#besides the fact i share practically everything in common w them both

[1980ssunflower]

There is something so indescribably special about my loves...

[slut-4-rafe]

Hi! I had a fix idea. So a switch!reader and she is in a relationship with the marauders(without Peter) and the boys find out. And like Remus is trying to convince Sirius to try it since he is a switch too(James is a sub and Remus is a dom) and like maybe the reader is feeling bad about messing up the dynamics and tells Remus to forget about it but her feeling bad eventually causes Sirius to give in and then ✨smut✨ You can obviously ignore this. Just thought I would share my thought❤️❤️

"Absolutely not!"

Sub! James x Dom! Remus x Switch! Sirius x Switch! Fem! Reader.

Summary: You want to try and be a dom for once, though Sirius isn't willing to look at you as anything but a sub. Remus and James on the other hand, want you to take charge.

Warning: Smut!, degration kink, praise kink, fingering (male receiving), daddy kink, mommy kink, oral (male receiving), slapping, probably more but this is just filthy.

Note: I hope this was okay. I don't feel like this was exactly what you were asking for, but I needed to add some drama lol.

Word count: 2,295

You had been feeling off about sex recently. It wasn't the fact that Remus was a dom. Or that James was a sub. Or that Sirius was both. What it was, was that you were a sub, or so they thought.

Yes, you loved being their 'good girl' and making them feel good, but sometimes you wished you could take the role of being in charge. Being the one to praise them for being good. Though you thought none of your boyfriends noticed your odd behaviors during your time in the bedroom, you were very wrong.

You were sat on one of the scarlet couches in the Gryffindor common room, watching as the orange flames danced in the pit. Your peaceful headspace was soon to be interrupted.

"Everyone out!" a voice yelled, startling you.

As people started to stand to leave the common room, a certain red head, also known as Lily Evans, took a stand. "No Potter. This is your common room. You can't just order people around!"

"Actually, Evans, I can. I'm head boy." the bespectacled boy said. Before Lily could argue anymore, you watched as Remus gave her a small pleading smile. Her gaze flickered to you and soon she softened.

"Alright then." she said before walking out of the portrait hole.

You knew what this was about. You knew why they wanted to talk privately, especially somewhere that wasn't the boys' bedroom.

You'd been avoiding them.

Sex was a common thing in your relationship, not that you were complaining at all. But to avoid the sex and the uncomfortable sub position you were constantly put in, you avoided them all together.

You kept your gaze on the flames before you, barely noticing each of the boys had taken seats on the couch beside you. Though you felt their stares lingering on your curled up frame, you ignored them the best you could.

"Pup." Remus said softly. "Can you tell me what's wrong?"

"Us." Sirius corrected.

You heard Remus let out a sight before correcting himself. "Can you tell us, what's going on?"

You didn't speak.

Your heart was beating rapidly and you got the sudden urge to vomit. And when the blush took over your cheeks, you hid your head in your hands.

You were embarrassed.

Embarrassed to explain that you wanted to not only be a sub, but also be a dom. And it wasn't James or Remus you had to worry about, it was Sirius. The raven haired boy liked how things were in the bed, he didn't want a change, and of course you knew that.

"Hey. We asked you a question." Sirius said.

"You not....breaking up with us, are you?" you heard James whisper. Hearing is sad voice broke your heart, and in an instant you revealed your blushed cheeks to the boys and raced to say your next words.

"No!"

James' frown turned into a lopsided grin at your answer. And suddenly you heard a set of chuckles. Turning your gaze to your other two boyfriends, you found both of them smirking.

"What?"

"Your embarrassed." Sirius said.

"Am not!"

"We like seeing you all flustered puppy." Remus smiled.

"Wanna take this to the room?" Sirius' smirk widened, and instantly your shoulders fell.

"No she doesn't." Remus said. "Pup? What happened? Are you feeling okay? Is something bothering you?"

You just gave your head a simple shake from side to side.

"I think I have a guess." you heard the raven haired boy say, and without even looking at him, you knew he had a shit eating grin plastered on his face. "I think our puppy broke a rule."

At those words your head snapped up. "No I didn't!"

"See. From the way your acting I'd say you did." he went on.

"No!"

"Are you back talking?" he smirked as your shoulders dropped yet again. "See. You just broke a rule. Back talking to your daddies."

And here you were, yet again, being put back in the sub position. You ignored the arousal pooling in your panties, as you rolled your eyes with a shake of your head and turned your stony gaze back to the fire. Yes. You were horny. You had been avoiding sex for about two weeks and still, the sub side of you wanted to follow their rules so you stuck to them. One of them just happened to be 'no getting yourself off,' so you didn't.

"I think you need to be punished pup." Sirius said in a sing song voice.

Remus noticed you seemed off. He sent Sirius a stern look, making the boy sink down into the couch. The sandy haired boy stood up and made his way to where he was kneeling in front of you.

"Poppet?" you turned you eyes to meet his brown ones. "What's the matter?"

Your mind swarm with thought and ways to put together your explanation. "I just..." you trailed off, trying to find the perfect words.

"You just what pup?"

"I-" you took a deep breathe and squeezed your eyes shut and allowed the words to come out in a quick, jumbled mess. "I just don't like being a sub all the time! I want to take charge once in a while. I'm a switch! Just like Siri and I-"

"Woah, woah, woah!" Remus cut you off. "Say it again. Slower this time."

You huffed and opened your eyes to meet his yet again. "I don't want to be a sub all the time. Sometimes I want to take charge like you and Siri do. I like being a sub sometimes, but not always. I love being your good girl, but sometimes I just want you to be my good boys."

A silence took over the four of you. The blush that was once on your face turned a deeper shade of red.

"Alright-"

"Absolutely not!" Sirius cut Remus' words off. "No way!"

"Daddy-" Sirius cut off James this time.

"No! I don't care what you two say, I'm saying no!"

Your shoulders slumped. You were put into this uncomfortable position. You wished you could take everything back. You wished you'd never said anything in the first place. You were drowning in your own thought. Your brain muffling the sound of the arguing boys next to you.

"We can't just do what we want Sirius!"

"There can't be three doms and one sub! I mean, James is already sensitive enough. Imagine of we have three people going at him!"

"Hey!" James whined.

"Oh shush. You know it's true."

"Stop. Both of you." Remus said sternly. "Sirius, if there can't be three doms, then you be a sub."

"No fucking way!"

"Why not?!"

"Because I'm a dom!"

"Actually," James said. "Your both Siri. Why can't she be both? That way there would be..."

"Technically, three subs and three doms." Remus concluded.

"No. She's a sub. I don't care what she wants. She will obey you and I. We are her daddies. What does she want? To be called mommy?" he laughs. "That sound fucking stupid."

"Sirius! Stop being a brat-"

"It's fine." you interrupted them. "I shouldn't have tried to change it. Just...pretend I didn't say anything."

You got up and made your way up to the boys' dorm, to which you shared, having not been to your dorm since fifth year. You plopped yourself on the fifth bed, also known as the extra bed, in the room. You grumbled into your pillow, completely oblivious to the arguing going on down below.

"Look what you did Sirius!" James exclaimed. The boys head snapped to James a scowl etched on his lips.

"I didn't do anything."

"Yes. You. Did." Remus seethed. The lycanthrope stepped towards the black haired boy, making him gulp nervously. Remus planted a slap to the boys' cheek. "What did I say about being a brat? Huh?"

"It makes me a bad boy." he said quietly.

"Yes it does. Why can't you just be a good boy like James?"

"I am a good boy!" Sirius whined, he sub side finally showing.

"No. Your not. You hurt puppies feelings."

Realization dawned on the boy and he immediately ran up to the dorm, followed by James and Remus.

"I'm sorry!" Sirius cried once he barged into the room. "I was a bad boy. Hurt mommy's feelings."

You froze and turned to the boys, finding James' hazel eyes blown wide, Sirius practically crying, and Remus standing against the door, a smirk wide on his face.

"What? I-I thought..."

"I'm so sorry mommy. Wanna be a good boy. Wanna make mommy happy."

"I..."

"I think little Sirius needs to be punished. What do you think James?" Remus asked.

"Yes daddy. I think mommy needs to punish Siri." he answered.

"W-what? I-..."

"What do I do to you or James when your bad?" Remus asked as he takes long strides to sit next to you on the bed. "Sirius, come here." The boy sheepishly makes his way over to the two of you until he's standing directly in front of you. "Talk to him. Tell him he's bad. Tell him why he's bad." Remus whispered in your ear. "Take charge doll."

This is what you were waiting for. To take charge.

"You were being mean Si." you said. "Hurt my-"

"Who are you?" Remus asked. "Have to address who you are."

"Hurt mommy's feelings."

"I know! I'm so sorry mommy!" he cried.

You contemplated what to do next. "Punish him." Remus whispered.

You stood up so you were face to face with the boy in front of you. You teasingly unbuttoned his shirt and pulled the item off his shoulders before unbuckling his belt and pulling down his trousers and boxers. You looked over the boy, watching as his hard on sat up straight, leaking precum. "Lay down."

"Yes mommy." he crawled up into the bed. Laying so he was on his stomach, his hands were intertwined on his back and he got a perfect view of the bed right in front of him. You seated yourself so you were sitting at his side. Before touching him though, you addressed the other two boys.

"Hey Jamesie?"

The boy perked up at the call of his name a lopsided smile taking over his features. "Yes mommy?"

"Want to help daddy out? Want to suck his cock while I punish Siri?"

James nodded his head rapidly before hurriedly making his way over to the bed that just so happened to be right in front of Sirius. "Yes mommy. Want to be a good boy."

"Good job bubba."

Remus was quick to discard himself, and James, of their clothes. "Good boy." he cooed as James started working on his cock.

"Alright. What should I do, huh?" you asked the boy.

"Punish me mommy. Wanna be your good boy." he whimpered. You thought for a moment. Thinking of all the punishments you received. You smirked when you got an idea.

"Ass up." you instructed, watching how he instantly rested himself on his hands and knees. You took one hand down to his cock. Hearing him moan just at the touch made your legs squeeze together. "Don't take your eyes off them. And you better not cum. Got it?"

"Yes mommy."

"Good." you smirked.

Your hand slowly went up and down on his cock, feeling all the veins and how it twitched when she squeezed. She took her pointer finger and placed it in her mouth, wetting it. Once it was slick, she took it down so she was tracing his hole, earning moans from him. You pussy clenched around nothing and the arousal sitting in your underwear grew uncomfortable as you listened to James' gags and Sirius and Remus' moans.

You slowly aloud your finger to push in, going slow, because while this was punishment, you didn't want to injure or hurt him in any way. You listened to him moan loudly and his back arch.

"Are you okay?" you whispered.

"Yes! Mommy!" he moaned.

You sped up your finger slightly and fisted his cock. As you kept your movements the same, you turned to James and Remus. James had his nose buried in Remus' happy trail.

"Fuuuuck. Such a good boy." you heard Remus moan before pulling the boys head off so he could breathe. After a moment, Remus forced James mouth back onto his cock and bobbed his head up and down. You, in the mean time, took in the sight of the boy laying in front of you. Eyes glued to your other two boyfriends. Cock twitching as he did his best not to cum. And your finger pumping in and out of his hole. "M'gonna cum James. And you better swallow." you heard Remus instruct, earning a moan from James. And in seconds, Remus was cumming down the boys throat and the room was full of loud moans.

"Mommy! I can't! M'gonna cum." Sirius screamed.

"You better not. You wanna be my good boy right?"

"Yes!"

"Then don't cum. Just ten more seconds."

And when you felt his cock twitch violently in your hand, you drew your hand back and slowly took your finger out. He collapsed down onto the mattress.

"Am I good now mommy?" he asked.

You crawled off the bed and went so you were kneeling in front of his face. "So good baby. Watched them the whole time, and didn't even cum!"

"Now we have to make mommy cum!" James said excitedly.

"Right Jamesie." Remus smiled.

"Want to fuck mommy Jamesie boy?" you asked, getting up and going over to the boy on the bed.

"Yes mommy! Wanna make mommy cum. Wanna be her good boy." he went on.

"Okay James. Remus, help out Sirius over there. He's a good boy." you said.

Taglist: @blowing-mikey @lilicazure @trouble-in-space @herbatkazmiloscia @zzzfour @speakyourselfloveyourself @vierablack @officepass1320 @riddikulusweasleys @mysticlights-blog @mtle @emmaev @whitecastles @teenwolfbitches2 @lliasky @lookscutebutwillfight @pretty-pop-princess-hs @imsiriuslyval

[midgardianweasley]

The Wedding Series

It took me a while, but, i’ve finallyyy got part 2 of the series up<33 

Ring her up

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: with an ever growing feeling of love for her girlfriend, Y/N wants to take the next step, but, like every plan, she needs to carry out step number one.

Word Count: 2k

Message/ask if you want to join the taglist! 

Part one | Part two 

It had been four years since the day you and Natasha had started dating, four wonderful years. The team hadn’t let either of you forget about the night you both got together, how they all saw it coming and how they couldn’t believe you both hadn’t seen it sooner. Looking back, you weren’t so sure yourself, but you liked the story of how you became girlfriends, even if it was something straight out of a rom-com.

Over the course of four years, it only made you more and more certain that she was the one you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. Unlike the story that brought you both together, this wasn’t a big moment of realisation. It was in the little things. It was in the way she protected and cared for you. In the way she had always been the one to wipe your tears and in the way she’d laugh with you in the rain when you were happy.

The two of you had discussed many things over the years, now having moved out into your own apartment together, you were beginning to take big steps in your relationship so some conversations had arisen in the process. Marriage being one of them.

__________________________

You were both sitting in your living room, snuggled up together on the sofa, a blanket draped over the two of you as you watched ‘Friends’, though you weren’t really watching it.

“Take a picture, it lasts longer.” She whispered, not looking at you but with a knowing smirk on her face.

“Why would I when I have the real thing right in front of me?”

“Touché”

You briefly returned your attention back to the screen in front of you, watching a scene unfold where the main characters are running in and out of a wedding chapel in Vegas. Seeing them had sparked a thought in your head as you looked up adoringly at your girlfriend, never breaking your eyes away, even when she grabbed the remote and paused your programme to give you her full attention.

“Okay, what’s up?”

“Who says something has to be up? Maybe I just want to appreciate how pretty you are.” You gave her puppy eyes, but she knew better than to fall for that.

“I can practically feel the cogs turning in that head of yours. C’mon, you can tell me Detka.”

You quickly glanced between the television screen and her eyes, taking note of the curiosity lingering in her eyes, alongside some concern which made you admit defeat.

“I was just thinking, y’know, about us.”

“Right, is something wrong?” She took your hands in hers, the pad of her thumb gently stroking the back of them, silently encouraging you to continue.

“No! No, not at all. It was just watching this, it got me thinking, what are your thoughts on getting married?” She opened her mouth to speak, but you quickly cut her off before she could get a word out. “I don’t necessarily mean to me! Just generally! Well, it would be nice if it was me, but I don’t want to put any-”

“Babe, slow down, breathe.” She chuckled while you caught your breath, only continuing once you’d calmed yourself down from your ramble.

“First of all, I like the thought of getting married, I could see myself doing it. But, in terms of who I would marry, it would be you.”

“Really? You’re serious?”

“I’m serious. You’re it for me. There isn’t anyone else.”

You didn’t know why tears appeared in your eyes, it was a perfect answer, an answer most people dreamed of getting. Nonetheless, they built up, completely blurring your vision, even as they fell. Natasha was quick to wipe them away as they did, and despite you not being able to see much, it was near impossible to miss the love she held in her eyes as she looked at you.

“I love you.” You mumbled, placing your hand over the one that she held on your cheek.

“I love you more.” She placed her forehead against yours, eyes closed as she enjoyed the intimacy, you doing so too.

“Never.”

“Always.” She whispered before meeting your lips with a gentle, loving kiss.

That conversation was your most recent, it will have been months ago now. As time went on, the feeling inside of you only grew, and you became more certain with every moment shared between you both, that you want to marry this woman. You want to marry Natasha Romanoff.

_______________________

You didn’t know where to begin, so you did what first came to mind.

You called your best friend. Thankfully, Nat was currently out with Steve, picking up after him again. Though you’d usually be moody at the fact that she had to leave, this time you couldn’t help but try to encourage her to go, spiking her curiosity at your actions, but still leaving nonetheless, giving you the perfect opportunity to call and ask for help.

“Wanda, Wanda, help.” You immediately rambled as soon as she picked up the phone.

“Y/N? Everything okay?”

“Yes. Well, kinda, no, yes?”

“Right, thank you for clearing that up.” She let out a hearty laugh over the phone

“I want to propose.”

“To Natasha?”

“Who else?”

“I just wanted to clarify!” She exclaimed, a hint of defense in her tone.

Silence fell upon the phone call,

“Oh my- You want to marry Natasha.”

“Isn’t that what I just said?”

“We need to start making plans! What dress would you like? Ooh where should the venue be? I heard-”

“Wan’, is that not a bit too soon? I don’t even have an idea for a proposal or a ring or anything.”

One sound. One sound was all it took for you to know that you had no idea what you had just gotten yourself into as Wanda gasped, quickly hanging up before you could even ask what was wrong.

Taking a look at your phone, you saw an unread text from Wanda, sent only seconds ago.

Wan<3   ‘Get your shoes on, I’ll be over in 10. We’re going out.’                                               Delivered.

At least now you know where to start.

Okay, you’re still not sure, but at least someone does. ______________________________

It wasn’t long before Wanda had arrived at your house, dragged you outside and was now pulling you along beside her as she ran around like a hyper Golden Retriever, leading you in and out of different shops, all of which had one thing in common. They sold engagement rings.

You could’ve facepalmed the minute you realised the pattern, how did an engagement ring not occur to you in the first place? You decided not to dwell on it, you’d just kick yourself later on when you’re alone to save any embarrassment.

You hadn’t realised you’d zoned out until you felt a tug on your wrist, looking up to see the culprit, a huge grin on her face as she pointed to the shop in front of the two of you. It was so..shiny. There were silver necklaces, rings, bracelets, and watches. They all looked so pretty, how were you going to decide?

“Come on! We need to go in and have a look! I have a good feeling about this one!” She squealed, even though you could’ve sworn she said that the last two times. Either way, you flashed her a quick smile, nodding and walking in. If you had to search all day for the perfect ring, so be it. It’s what Natasha deserves.

There were rows upon rows of different rings, there must’ve been hundreds, if not thousands in the brightly lit room, allowing each and every one to have a sparkle. You smiled gently at each one, imagining how they would look on your girlfriend’s hand. How it would feel for her title to go from ‘girlfriend’ to ‘Fiancé’, relying on the hope that she says yes.

A couple of minutes went by before something caught your attention. Turning your head to the left, you see one particular ring standing out to you like a beautiful, shiny sore thumb. Walking closer to inspect it, you manage to take in some more of its finer details.

It was a simple silver band, just like the majority of the others, however, while they had simple diamonds, this one had a ruby instead, the red complementing the silver perfectly. One look at it, and you were strong in your opinion that Natasha would love it.

You soon felt a presence behind you, recognising it immediately as the one who had brought you out here in the first place.

“Are you looking at the red one?” You whipped your head round.

“How did you know?”

“Because you look like you’ve decided to fall in love with that ring instead.” She raised her eyebrows, taking great enjoyment in watching you look around and get excited with almost every ring you see as you think about how it would feel if Natasha was to say ‘yes’. In all honesty, a part of you was a little scared, nervous. Marriage is a big step, and while she had said she would want to, you don’t want to get the timing wrong. You want it all to be perfect, and you would do your damn best to make it so. She was your forever, and you refused to let that slip through your fingers.

Before you could even blink, Wanda had asked the saleswoman if they could have it brought out of it’s viewing unit so that you could take a closer look, which she responded with a kind smile before unlocking the case and holding the ring out to you, exposing all of it’s edges and how it glistens differently in every light, a faint red glow appearing every so often.

This was the one.

“Could I buy this one, please?” You asked the lady who appeared to be nothing but friendly.

“Of course, let me just ring that up for you and I'll get it boxed up.” You had to hold back a small giggle at her choice of words. Immature, you know, but you didn’t overly care, feeling too over the moon at taking the first step towards marriage with the love of your life.

Wanda gave you a pearly white smile, clapping her hands in joy at how the trip has turned out, watching you now hold the small box in your hand. You didn’t blame her, this has been a success. You can’t wait.

___________________________

“Babe! I’m home!” You called, shutting the front door behind you and kicking your shoes off, the ring safely held in its box, which was settled in your back pocket.

“Hi love” Natasha walked over, placing a sweet kiss on your lips before pulling away and brushing some loose strands of hair behind your ear, a gesture you had always adored. “How was your day? I heard you went out with Wanda?”

Of course she did! Luckily, she’s not the only spy around who could think quick on her feet.

“Yeah, we went for some lunch and just had a girls day. I think she needed to get out of the compound for a bit, too much ‘boy’ energy.” You shrugged, a smile playing on your lips as you watched hers curl upwards in agreement.

“I don’t blame her, poor girl. We’ve totally abandoned her with the males.”

“Would you like to go back and stay there?”

“Absolutely not, I’m quite happy where I am, thank you.” She raised her eyebrows in a playful manner before gesturing to the TV. “Do you wanna watch some ‘Friends’?”

“Yes! I’ll just change into some comfier clothes, jeans are not the one today.” You happily agreed, quickly giving her a peck on the cheek before scurrying off to the bedroom, hoping she didn’t notice the odd shape of your pocket.

You made it into the bedroom, getting some pj’s out of your wardrobe and looking for a place to hide the ring. You were going to just put it into your bedside table, but you knew Natasha often snuck in there to steal some of your favourite moisturiser. Not as subtle as she thinks.

You settled on hiding it on the top shelf of your wardrobe, behind some storage boxes and rucksacks neither of you used, hoping it would be well hidden there.

Now all you had to do now, was wait.

Taglist: @natashas-favourite-knives @wandaromanova​ @wvnda-maximoff​

[blackhakumen]

Mini Fanfic #815: Last Straw (Super Smash Bros Ultimate X Persona 5)

2:12 p.m. at the Isle Defino's Restaurant.........

Pink Female Pianta: (Smiles Brightly at Mario, Peach, Ren, and Makoto After She Place Their Meals Down on the Table) I hope you all enjoy our meals for today!~ (Turns to Mario with a Dark Expression on her Eyes) Especially you, you no good criminal of a plumber....(Went Back to Smiling Brightly Again Before Walking Away) Goodbyeeee!~

Mario: (Chuckles Awkwardly) I see that.... we're....(Puts on a Deadpinned Look on his Face) Still on that phase, aren't we?

Peach: (Groans Which Pinching her Nose a Little)

Mario: (Turns to Peach While Placing his Hand on Top of Her Other One) Are you okay, Peach?

Peach: (Turns to Mario With a Reassuring Smile on her Face) I'll be fine, honey. ('Sigh') I'm just trying not let those Piantas get the better of me. I'd never realized it would be so challenging.....

Makoto: I'd say. I could never imagine getting over it that easily if I were in that position.....

Ren: ('Sigh') Tell me about it. (Turns to Mario) I'm surprised none of this is bothering you in the slightest.

Mario: (Smiles Sheepishly at Ren While Rubbing the Back of his Head Back and Forth) I wouldn't say it doesn't bother me completely. I just try and look at the brighter side of all of this, you know? I even tried not to think too hard on the messier part of the past.

Makoto: (Raised an Eyebrow) How "messier" are we talking about exactly?

Mario: Welllllllll.....For starters, back when Shadow Mario kidnapped the princess and took her to Pinna Park, there were a few eye witnesses that saw the whole incident going. It was practically a golden opportunity to prove the fact that there were two of me and all of this was misunderstanding to begin with. Yet.....They still think I was a criminal.

Makoto: (Couldn't Believe What She's Hearing) My God.... That's terrible.....

Peach: It was.....(Turns to Mario) I'm so sorry I wasn't much help to you during that time around, Mario. I was going scream out for help, but Shadow Mario, who was Bowser Jr at the time.

Makoto: (Nodded While Understanding What Ren is Telling Her) Okay.....

Ren: Yeah......

Peach: ...Taped my mouth shut at last second.

Makoto: But some of the citizens still saw you getting kidnapped during that time, right?

Peach: Yes, but....('Sigh') They were panicking for the most part.

Makoto: And there were no policemen involved?

Mario: (Shook his Head) Not a single one I'm afraid. Didn't make any better when tried telling them everything that happened during that time and even when Junior first tired to kidnap the princess, they kept telling me that I was slacking off and that I should get back to work on cleaning the Island.

Makoto: (Starts Facepalming Herself in Disbelief) I don't believe this......

Ren: I know, right? Their police system are million times worst than the one in our universe......

Mario: That..... wasn't worse of it......

Makoto/Peach: It wasn't?

Mario: Nope. (Turns to Peach) Do you remember those Star Sprites they wanted me to gather to restore the brightness of their island?

Peach: Yeah. You had to go through other worlds to obtain them, right?

Mario: .....For the most part.....There were a few citizens here that had them already. They only gave them to me after I do their chores for them.

Peach: ('Gasps')

Makoto: (Turns to Ren) Ren, is all of this is true?

Ren: Yep. And it's not even the worst of it.

Makoto: Oh sweet, merciful Johanna....What now?

Ren: (Points at a White House Standing on the End of the Dock) You see that house over there?

Makoto: (Turns to the House Ren is Showing Her) Yeah? What about it?

Ren: There these two raccoons who lives over there and they have a crap ton of Star Sprites inside. But the only way to get any of them is to trade them-

Mario: Blue Coins. ('Groans a Little') I remember how exhausting it was to get them all........(Chuckles Lightly) Good thing I got it all over it and made it back in one piece.

Peach: ............................

Mario: Uh.....Peach? D-Darling?

Peach: (Starts Taking a Deep Breath Before Speaking) Let me see if I get this right....You mean to tell that there are raccoons who are living in that house, trading Star Sprites for Blue Coins as a currency....The SAME Star Sprites that were SUPPOSED TO BE USED to restore the brightness of the entire Island.....AND YOU'RE TELLING ME THAT NO ONE, NOT EVEN THE AUTHORITIES, EVEN BOTHER TO QUESTION THEM AT ALL!?

Mario: .........Pretty much. Yeah.

Peach: .......... That's it. (Immediately Gets Up From her Table) I'mma sue 'em.

Mario: ('Sigh') Peach....

Peach: (Turns to Mario With a Form Frown on her Face) No, Mario! Ever since the day we arrived here, I have tried SO hard not let all of this get me. But after everything they've put you through, even AFTER you risk your life to save them, I cannot sit here and let this slide anymore! Enough is enough!!

Mario: But how are we going to find ourselves a lawyer here? We've never got one the last time we went to court.

Ren: (Already Has a Smirk on Face) No worry, you guys. Makoto and I know someone who can help plead your case no problem.

Makoto: Wait. We do? (Eyes Widened For a Brief Second Before Sighing at the Fact That She Figured Who Ren is Talking About) Ren, we're not asking my sister to come over here to court.

Ren: Ah c'mon, 'hon. She's the only person we know who has any experience being in a courtroom.

Makoto: But what if she already working this remaining week!? We can't just back to Shiyuba and ask her to come with us! She'll decline the offer quicker than you can say-

???: Why, hello my dear little sister.

Makoto yelps while quickly jumping into Ren's arms before turning around to see that it's none other than her older sister, Sae Niijima.

Makoto: Sis? W-What are you doing here!?

Sae: My boss gave me a few days off yesterday. So I decided to come here to spend the rest it with you. And before you ask, I used one of your Dimensional Rings to get here.

Makoto: Oh sis...(Hugs Sae Lovingly) You have no idea how happy this made me~

Sae: (Giggles Softly) Likewise. I'm really happy to see you again, Makoto. (Kiss the Top of Makoto's Head Before Turning to Ren) You too, Ren. I hope you're treating my little sister well as usual.

Ren: (Happily Nodded) Yep.

Peach: Ms. Niijima, I know you've just arrived here and everything, but could you please help us with our case in court?

Sae: (Simply Nodded) Of course I can, your highness. I may be prosecutor for most, but I have learned a thing or two about being lawyer in the paat. So you and Mario-san are in good hands.

Peach: (Gasps Happily Before Grabbing Both of Sae's Hands) Thank you, thank you, thank you so much!~ Is there anything we can do to return a favor!?

Sae: Only if you don't mind having me be a part of your family vacation....(Turns to Ren and Makoto with a Smirk on her Face) And that I get to share a room with Ren and Makoto in the process.

Ren/Makoto: (Eyes Widened in Complete Shock) WHAT!?

Mario: (Chuckles Lightly) You're here already, aren't you? Of course you can be a part of our family vacation! (Turns to Ren and Makoto) You two don't mind having Sae in your room for the time being, do you?

Ren/Makoto: ('Sighs in Utter Defeat') No.......

Makoto: (Turns to Ren) I knew this was a mistake.......

Sae: (Place her Arms Around Ren and Makoto's Shoulder) Oh don't be like that, you two. We should focus on something more important at hand: Winning this case!

One Court Session Later......

'Jail Cell Closing'

Sae: (Standing Behind the Cell Bars With Genuine Surprise Look on her Face) I was not expecting the courtroom to be that stubborn.......

Mario: (Sitting Next to Peach on One Side of the Cell) I can't believe they locked us up in a matter of minutes!!....And call me crazy, but I think this might be my second time coming back to this prison cell again.

Sae: (Turns to Mario) How can you tell this one is yours?

Mario: (Points at the Craved, Written Words at the Top of the Wall) It has my name up there.

Sae: (Looks Up and See the Name Mario on That Said Wall) Ah. What a...... Strange discovery....

Ren: (Sitting Next to Makoto on the Other Side of the Cell) Being in jail isn't too bad. (Crosses his Arms) Got locked up twice in row and I was still fine enough as it is.......(Suddenly Starts Shaking his Arms in a Bit of Fear)

Makoto: (Starts Worrying For her Boyfriend Before Hugging Him Lovingly and Reassuringly)

Peach: (Looking Down at the Floor With Regret on her Face) I'm sorry I put you all into this.... If I didn't thought of suing them in the first place, then none of this would've happened.

Mario: (Places his Hand on Peach's Shoulder) Your heart was in the right place through all of this, dear. It's okay. And besides.....(Starts Blushing While Smiling a Little) I thought it was really sweet of you to go out of your way to do this for me to begin. Even though you...really didn't have to.....

Peach: (Immediately Turns to Mario) But I wanted to do it for you, Mario! You've done so much for me since the day we first place. Whether it's saving me from getting kidnapped, giving me all the support and care I needed, helping me go through my common and personal problems, or everything else in between. All I ever wanted to do is to be there for you too. Because you mean so much more to me than just being my hero o-or my Knight in Shining Armor....(Tears Starts Falling Down From Her Eyes) You're the man I wanna love and be with for the rest of my life.....

Mario: (Heart Begins to Melt by Peach's Words) Oh Peach.......(Gives Peach a Loving Hug) You know just as well as I do that you've done so much for me than anyone thinks you do. Besides my own brother, I wouldn't even be half the man I am today if weren't for all the love, care, and support you've given me throughout the years. Heck, you being here with me at all as already made my day and many others before and after that, all the more special to me and I can't even begin to tell you how much you mean to me too. (Smiles Brightly) But all I know is that no matter what happens, I'll always love you from the bottom of my heart, Princess Peach.

Peach: (Heart Begins to Melt as Well) Mario.......('Sniff') (Immediately Hugs Mario Back Lovingly) I love you too!~ Never ever ever ever ever ever EVER forget that, okay!?~

Mario: (Chuckles Lightly) Of course, dear~

'Jail Cell Opens'

Blue Police Pianta: Alright, troublemakers. You're free to go now.

Daisy: (Pops Out From the Back of the Policeman on One Side) Heeeey, Cuz!~

Luigi: (Pops Out From the Other Side of the Policeman While Happily Waving at Mario) Hey, Bro!

Peach: (Eyes Widened at What is Happening Right Now Along With the Others) Daisy!? Luigi!?

Mario: You two bailed us out!?

Daisy: (Smiles Brightly While Resting her Arm Onto Luigi's Shoulder) Yep! We used the money from the safe whenever one of us get arrested.

Luigi: (Smiles Brightly as Well) We even brought the safe from the home with us the entire just in case. Are you okay?

Peach: (Smiles Reliefly and Brightly) Oh you two have no idea how-

Orange Police Pianta: Yeah, yeah. Tell 'em all about it when you get outside. Now, come on! Out of the cell! All of you!

Few Minutes Later Outside..........

Police Pianta: Now, I hope you five learned a valuable lesson about causing trouble to this town.

Daisy: But.... all they did was trying to sue you-

Orange Police Pianta: QUIET!

Blue Police Pianta: Now, as what I was saying, we'll be watching you, pals. We'll know right away if you start causing more trouble.

Luigi: Uhhh...

Mario: (Whispers to Luigi) They won't do anything, bro. Trust me on this one.

Luigi: (Shrugs) Okie Dokie. (Starts Walking Away Along With The Others)

Makoto: ('Sigh') Well.....That was a lot more eventful than I could ever imagine.

Sae: Agreed. I never thought I would start my vacation here in a prison cell....(Turns to Luigi and Daisy) Has anyone else in the Smash Family actually got arrested before all of this?

Luigi: (Smiles a Bit Sheepishly) Well, Dedede was arrested two years ago for raiding across the Area 51 by Naruto running.

Sae: ........ You're Kidding.....

Daisy: (Giggles Softly While Hugging Onto Luigi's Arm) Nope!~ It was all around the news when it happened. He even got his chewed out by Peach afterwards. It was priceless!~

Luigi: And effective.

Sae: ('Sigh') You know, I'm starting to think our arrest is more meaningless than before.........

Peach: (Sighs While Resting her Head Onto Mario's Shoulder) Well, I'm just glad all of this is over now.

Ren: Tell me about it. Don't know about you guys, but I can really go for a nice, relaxing back massage right now-

?????: RENNNNNN!!!!

And with that, Palutena and Bayonetta, along with all the members of the Phantom Thieves rushes over and hug tackle Ren into the ground one by one. All was right in the world yet again.

@keyenuta

@caleb13frede

@princekirijo

@ma-lemons

@albion-93

@italian-love-cake

@cyber-wildcat

@26shann

@shumakoweek

[carewyncromwell]

[HPHM] Carewyn Cromwell and Orion Amari Cinderella AU Moodboard

x~x~x~x

Once upon a time, there were two kingdoms at war -- the land of Royaume with rolling valleys and mountain ranges, and the land of Florence by the southeastern sea. Their conflict had started fifty years ago, rooted in a territory dispute that blew up in an assassination and full-scale war. Since then, the royal family of Royaume, including the young Prince Henri, was kept under very tight house-arrest. It also resulted in many families gaining status and power in the two nation’s governments through investing in war.

One of those such families in the nation of Royaume were the Cromwells, led by the cold and ruthless Lord Charles Cromwell. The Cromwells put in a lot of their own money investing in the War, and those investments only came back to them tenfold, making them incredibly wealthy and very well-regarded among Royaume’s royal court. The King of Royaume needed all of the financial assistance he could get -- especially since he’d spent a lot of money to hire a mercenary from an outside country to assassinate the Crown Prince of Florence in an attempt to end the War, only for the War to go on unabated when the King of Florence coughed up a replacement heir. And as luxurious as the Royaumanian palace and many of its country estates looked, a lot of the lower classes weren’t getting their fair share, around paying for the soldiers at war. There were rumors that Florence was better-off, since they simply used black magic to make money and food appear out of fat air, but that was widely considered to be unfounded rumors. Royaumanians were very distrustful of magic and those who practiced it, and Florence’s harboring of witches and wizards didn’t do much to endear the common man to their enemy country.

This was why, one day at the local market in Royaume’s capital, there was a lot of fuss made when one of the street vendors -- an old miser named Argus Filch --  suspected a strange man of buying ingredients for a potion.

“I’m not stupid, boy,” said Mr. Filch, looking over the stranger with suspicion. “You think those things you’ve been picking up like a crow look like anything other than some kind of black magic recipe?”

The stranger in question -- a young, tanned, black-eyed man with a beard and slightly-too-long dark hair -- responded with remarkable calm.

“I assure you, sir, black magic is certainly not my intention,” he said quietly.

“Oh yeah?” challenged Mr. Filch. “What’s all this for, then?”

“A friend,” the young man answered.

“A friend, eh? Some nasty old witch in the forest, I’m sure -- thinking of mixing up some poison potion -- ”

“Is there a problem here?”

Both men looked up, very startled.

A young lady astride a white horse had just come to a stop beside them. She was dressed in a light yellow gown with green sleeves and her ginger hair was done up in netting decked with pearls. It was a peculiar sight, to see so well-dressed a woman riding her own horse through the market rather than riding in a carriage, even if she did ride side-saddle.

The ginger-haired lady glanced at the dark-haired stranger out the side of her almond-shaped blue eye. Although her face was as stoic as a marble statue’s, there was something about her gaze that caught his attention. It was discerning, and yet...not cold. Not condescending.

The lady then turned to Mr. Filch.

“Good sir,” she said, “why do you harangue my escort?”

The dark-haired stranger blinked, but otherwise kept the surprise from his face. Mr. Filch himself blinked several times in rapid succession.

“Y-your escort?” he sputtered. “Then...you’re who he was shopping for?”

“That I am,” said the lady very coolly. “Is there a problem with my purchases?”

“W-well, yes, in fact!” Mr. Filch stammered, his suspicion returning even though he was clearly intimidated. “What could a fine lady such as yourself want with this sort of...pagan nonsense?”

The lady raised her eyebrows dryly. “‘Pagan nonsense?’”

“Yes!” said Mr. Filch, his voice becoming a bit louder in his defensiveness. “Rosemary, henbane -- ”

“I require rosemary for the kitchen staff, to season our meals,” said the lady at once. “And henbane makes for pleasant incense -- we use it to stifle the smell of cigar smoke, after large parties.”

Filch looked a bit abashed.

“...And what about the absinthe? That stuff’s pretty strong...and the catswort...”

“My uncle brews drinks with absinthe, as a palette cleanser after large meals....and surely you yourself know of how much house cats enjoy catswort? I believe I see cat fur on your coat.”

“Well, yes, but...but what about the Mandrakes?” challenged Filch. “That is pretty occult, if I’ve ever -- ”

“The Mandragora plant has some of the prettiest flowers I’ve ever seen,” the lady said, and her blue eyes grew a little narrower. “Now have I satisfactorily nullified your concerns? I’m afraid I have an urgent appointment at the palace, and I know my grandfather Lord Cromwell would be very displeased if I was late for it because someone suspected his family of aligning themselves with witchcraft.”

Mr. Filch suddenly went very, very white. “L-Lord Cromwell!? Y-you’re related to -- ?!”

He abruptly prostrated himself before her. “My lady!”

The display actually seemed to make the young Lady Cromwell look incredibly uncomfortable -- as if she hadn’t intended for the threat to make the vendor react with quite so much anxiety.

“Rise, please,” she said, and her voice seemed oddly remorseful. “That’s not necessary. Just be on your way and leave this man be, please.”

“Yes, my lady!” said Mr. Filch very quickly, looking no less anxious. “O-of course, my lady...”

With that, he slunk away, back down the street toward his stall.

Lady Cromwell looked down at the dark-haired stranger again. His sparkling black eyes had not left her face for almost the entire exchange and were very difficult to read.

“Have you bought everything you need?” she asked under her breath.

The stranger inclined his head in a single nod. “Yes.”

Lady Cromwell nodded in return, a very small smile touching the corners of her red lips. “Good. Walk beside my horse for a block or so. I’ll escort you out of the market, so you can head home.”

She flicked the reins and started her horse off at a leisurely trot. The dark-haired man hesitated briefly, before adjusting the basket under his arm so that the handle hung on his shoulder and following her.

“That was some very clever thinking on your part,” he said quietly.

Lady Cromwell raised her eyebrows.

“You seem surprised,” she said dryly. “Have you never encountered a clever woman before?”

“On the contrary,” the man replied, “I’m fortunate to count several as my friends. But I must confess, I did not expect such kindness from someone in your position.”

“And pray, what ‘position’ is that?”

The man inclined his head respectfully. “A lady of the Cromwell estate, of course. After all, as you yourself said...your grandfather most assuredly would be offended if someone associated him and his family with witchcraft.”

Lady Cromwell shot a quick glance at him out the side of her eye. Then she faced forward again.

“...I suppose I...have never been that much like the rest of my family,” she said softly. “Excluding my brother.”

“The young Lord Tristan Cromwell?” asked the man.

“No -- Jacob Cromwell,” she replied. “He’s at the war front.”

The man’s dark eyes flickered with a strange, sad glint.

“I see...”

The lady brought her horse to a stop and faced the man more fully.

“Well then, this is where I leave you. I’m sorry if it requires more of a walk for you to return home, but I must be off to the castle -- I’m already running behind.”

“It’s no problem at all,” said the dark-haired stranger. “It truly is not so far of a walk for me.”

Lady Cromwell nodded politely. “Very well. Farewell, then, Mr...?”

“With respect, my lady,” said the man with a slight wry smile, “perhaps it’s best that we not share our identities.”

The red-haired lady cocked her eyebrows sardonically. “Seems rather rude of you, considering you already know mine.”

“Ah, but I don’t, truly,” said the stranger, and his black eyes sparked with something almost mischievous. “I know your family name, yes, but that’s not who you are, is it? And truthfully even who you are now isn’t really that important. I’d say who you wish to be is far more telling than who you are at the present moment.”

Lady Cromwell raised an eyebrow, intrigued a bit despite herself. “Really? And who do you wish to be, sir?”

His black eyes twinkled a bit more, making them resemble two miniature night skies with hundreds of tiny pinprick stars.

“...A free man.”

Lady Cromwell’s eyes actually softened a bit, almost sympathetically.

“...Well, I hope you achieve that dream, Mr. Freeman,” she said in an unusually kind voice.

She flicked the reins of her horse.

“Farewell!” she called behind her.

Despite himself, the dark-haired stranger felt his face breaking into a broad smile as he watched her gallop away.

“Farewell,” he murmured, “Lady Cromwell.”

Not long after she was out of sight, a familiar black carriage appeared around a corner, and the door cracked open so that one could enter it. With an airy sigh, the dark-haired man climbed into the carriage and shut the door behind him, before the carriage rode off.

Not long after, the woman who’d been called “Lady Cromwell” arrived at the Royaumanian palace. She received a lot of attention from the castle staff for her mother’s old dress and formal hair and make-up -- and when she approached the thrones of the King and Queen, she startled everyone with her greeting.

“Your Majesties,” she said lowly, her blue eyes downcast to the floor to obscure the faint nerves she felt, “my name is Carewyn. Lord Cromwell sent me, so that I may serve his Highness, the Prince.”

The King looked very startled. “Lord Cromwell? Then...”

His face suddenly burst into an incredulous smile.

“...Why then, you’re the new maidservant! Lord Cromwell’s serving girl! My, but you have cleaned up -- I never would have guessed!”

“Clearly Lord Cromwell treats his servants well, if even they look the part of a courtier,” said the Queen, and she couldn’t help but giggle behind her hand.

Carewyn successfully resisted the urge to scoff. Charles most certainly had not told her to come dressed in her mother’s old dress or doll herself up quite this much -- he wanted Carewyn to be eyes and ears for their family, not to draw attention away from her cousins vying for the Prince’s hand. But Carewyn had her own reasons for wanting to make a good first impression.

“Come nearer to me, child,” said the Queen.

Carewyn obeyed politely. She still had some trouble meeting the King and Queen’s eyes, but she kept her composure as best she could.

“Turn for me.”

Faintly confused, Carewyn nonetheless did so. The Queen looked very pleased.

“Oh, she’s just like a little china doll!” she said through a simpering smile. “Prince Henri is going to have such fun with her, wouldn’t you say, dear?”

“Yes, yes, indeed,” said the King with a chortle. “I don’t know if you’re aware, Carewyn, but my son has quite a knack for -- ”

“Father!”

Carewyn couldn’t stop herself from turning around in surprise as the man who had to be Prince Henri strode up the hall.

He certainly was dressed the part, that was for certain. He wore a doublet made of gold-trimmed purple velvet complete with a brocaded cape and a matching hat and breeches with white stockings and gold-buckled black shoes.

“Henri, how good of you to join us,” said the Queen brightly. “Carewyn -- this is Henri Lancelot-Yves Andre -- Crown Prince of Royaume.”

Carewyn curtsied politely. “It’s an honor, your Highness.”

The dark-skinned prince Henri gave a bright white grin. “Ah, then you’re the new maidservant! I think I can see why you were sent over -- your fashion is on point, despite your dress being of an older style...”

He offered a hand politely to her.

“Come -- we must get you fitted appropriately!”

With faint hesitance, Carewyn rested her hand on top of the prince’s and followed him out.

“Fitted, Your Highness?” she asked. “I thought I merely would receive a uniform, once I arrived.”

“Oh, you will,” said the Prince brightly, “but no member of the castle staff is going to wear a uniform that doesn’t fit her properly -- I’ll need to tailor it. And please...call me Andre.”

Meanwhile, the dark-haired stranger called “Freeman” was getting an earful from the man in the carriage.

“Orion, you can’t keep running off every time you’re able to sidestep your attendants,” said the blond-haired man in the carriage. His arms were crossed, and although his expression was grave, it wasn’t particularly strict or reproachful. “There’s a lot of military strategy to discuss.”

“I learn a lot more about our enemy here on the streets than I ever could in a tower, McNully,” said Orion serenely. Once he’d finished organizing his basket of herbs, he lay it down on the seat across from him. “Don’t let me forget to deliver that to Miss Haywood, for the wounded.”

“You could stand to learn about your enemy in both places,” said McNully, “and you could also stand to think a bit more critically before disguising yourself and wandering across the border. Do you know what the Royaumanians would do, if they caught you?”

Orion considered this. “Hmm...perhaps that would make a good strategy. Cleopatra herself apparently smuggled herself inside a rug, so as to parley with Julius Caesar -- ”

“Yes, but Cleopatra’s older half-brother hadn’t been killed on Caesar’s orders beforehand,” McNully cut him off a bit more forcefully.

He sighed heavily.

“Orion...I understand you never asked for any of this. I mean, of all the people I could’ve seen becoming heir to the throne of Florence, I’d have said you only had a 3% chance of being picked.”

“Much obliged,” said Orion with a rather placid smile.

His face then grew a bit more serious.

“Even so,” he said quietly, “it’s my responsibility. And so is ending this war, preferably in such a way that balance is restored.”

“Kind of hard to do, when Royaume seem more interested in killing off royal family members than negotiating,” said McNully. “At this rate, I’d say the odds are slim they’ll accept peace over all-out surrender -- 10%, tops.

Orion shook his head. “Its leaders, maybe, but not its people. There is goodness among them. Patience, tenacity, loyalty, and fire. A desire for peace and stability, in place of war and loss.”

“And an irrational hatred of us, bred out of a fear of everyone and anyone even slightly associated with magic,” McNully pointed out.

“Not all of them feel that way.”

“A good 98% do.”

Orion glanced out the window at the large wall that marked the border of Royaume and Florence. Positioned in the distance were a battalion of Royaumanian soldiers shooting their guns and yelling -- no doubt they were being distracted just long enough for their carriage to slip through unnoticed.

“However slim the number,” said Orion quietly, “there are those here who don’t fear the unknown and mysterious -- whose kindness gives them courage...”

The face of the ginger-haired lady he’d met in the market rippled over the Florentine Prince’s mind again, and his lips curled up in a small smile.

“That’s something we can count as a blessing and use to our advantage.” 

[gabriel-agreste-has-no-rights]

Rating: G

Summary: Luka's replaced his broken guitar with a kazoo. Marinette realizes just how important that guitar was to their burgeoning relationship....Maybe she should've made sure no one was around before she ranted about that to Tikki.(Set during/after the end of Miracle Queen)

Word Count: 2569 | Chapter 1/2

Notes: No Luka bashing is intended with this fic, but it is lovesquare endgame Disclaimer: I love kazoos and if someone tried to woo me with a kazoo I would probably swoon. Rip to Marinette but I’m different Disclaimer 2: I didn't come up with the idea for kazooka, @bugaboo-n-bananoir did in this post ). sorry for all the shoutouts lately bud lol you're just an inspiration Special thanks to @botherkupo for betareading!

XXX

“Are you okay?”  Luka asked when Marinette returned from getting ice cream.

It took some effort to pry her gaze away from where Adrien and Kagami were sharing at the other end of the ledge, but she promised herself she wouldn’t be jealous.  

...Or at least, she wouldn’t show it this time.  Both of them were her friends, and they deserved to be happy with each other.  

Did that mean she was okay?  No, not really.  But she didn’t really want to get into that, especially since Luka had already seen her so vulnerable last time.

“So, uh… where’s your guitar?”  she asked instead.

“Oh.”  Luka blinked, as if surprised his instrument wasn’t there either.  “Remember the last time I saw you?  When you were… crying in the street?”

She’d really been hoping he forgot about that.  It definitely wasn’t her most awkward moment, but Adrien at least tended to ignore the worst of hers.  He hadn’t even breathed a word about the whole constipation incident.

But comparing Luka and Adrien wasn’t fair to either of them.  

She shook her head.  “Um, what about it?”

“I dropped my bike when I went to hug you.  My guitar fell out of the basket and… yeah.”  He moved his hands as if to strum a chord, only to slump when they just stroked the air.

“Oh, Luka, I’m so sorry.”  She winced.  She knew his guitar was basically an extension of himself; she hadn’t intended for him to sacrifice it for her.  Was she really that important to him?

“It’s alright.  I’ve almost saved up for a new one.”  He shrugged.

She couldn’t tell if he was actually alright or if he was just faking.  “Well, I’m still sorry.”

“It really is alright.  You’re the music that’s been playing for me since we met, anyway.”

She blushed and looked away.  Luka had always been more forward, but she really didn’t know how she felt about his love confessions, especially considering…

No, she wasn’t going to glance back towards Adrien.  (Not that she could do that subtly, with all their classmates packed between them.)

But the point was, she couldn’t return Luka’s confession while her heart still hung somewhere in the balance.  She could try to move on—she should try to move on—but no matter what Luka said, she didn’t want him to feel stuck as a second choice.

“Well, um… thanks, I guess.” 

She took a bite of her raspberry ice cream to fill the awkward silence.  Normally his guitar did that.  Ivan’s hand drum sort of helped, but it was too far away (and too sporadic) for her to pretend she was focused on his music.

“I guess you can’t play that song for me now,” she added when he didn’t speak up.  It was too bad, because she thought she might actually want to hear it, if only to give them something to connect over.

Had she really listened to his music that often?  It was painfully obvious now that his guitar was absent.

“Were you ready to hear it?”  Hhe asked.  “I still can, if you’d like.”

Her head tilted, her eyebrows scrunching together.  “But you don’t have your guitar.  Unless you’re going to borrow Ivan’s drum.”

He chuckled a little at that.  “I’ve got something else.”

His hand reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out…

“Is that a kazoo?”  

Was this a joke?  Was he playing a joke on her?  He’d never shown that much of a sense of humor before.  If Juleka hadn’t been in the middle of the group sharing ice cream with Rose, Marinette would’ve flagged her down for help.

“Yep.  Juleka got it for me as a replacement present, you know, until I can pay for my new guitar.”

“Oh.”  She forced a grin.  “That’s… sweet of her.”

So no help from Juleka then.  Maybe this wasn’t such a big deal.  Maybe Luka would be an amazing kazoo player, and sweep her off her feet with his buzzing melody and help her forget all about Adrien and— 

Yeah, even her normally-vivid daydream couldn’t paint that picture.

“It really is.  She’s the best.”  He smiled.  She hadn’t heard him talk about Juleka often, honestly.  It was a little weird to remember that he was her friend’s older brother, but Juleka hadn’t seemed to mind Luka showing an interest in her.  

Well, unless the kazoo was more of a warning than a present.  But that was branching into conspiracy theory territory.

“Are you going to play it, then?”  she asked before she could lose her nerve.  Maybe hearing the melody, even if just on the kazoo, would give her the answers her heart was looking for.

“Right.”  He nodded and raised the blue piece of plastic to his lips.

She didn’t wince at the first high-pitched buzz.  She might have just… cringed a little.  Kazoos weren’t really meant to be played at close distance—at least that’s what she assumed, because could anyone really want to unironically listen to that?

The melody was… hard to pick out with all the screeching.  She tried to smile through it—he’d written this for her, and it wasn’t really meant to be played on the kazoo—but then Marc and Nathaniel looked up in shock-slash-horror, and Mylene just about fumbled her ice cream into the river, and Juleka let out an uncharacteristically loud cackle.

Luka’s playing petered out with a sad doot doot.  He still looked up at her expectantly.

And because he was staring at her, of course the rest of their group did too.  Including Adrien, the green mint of his ice cream still staining his lower lip.

“Um… that was…” Marinette’s face burned as she sprung to her feet.  “W-well!  Look at that I have to go—buy a birthday present for my grandpa’s mouse!”  Wait, had she used that one before?  It didn’t matter, her legs were already wooshing her away, leaving only the cherry from the top of her ice cream behind.

She hurriedly shoved the rest of her ice cream into her mouth to cool her burning face.  That was… probably an overreaction.  Luka had just tried to play her a song.  It wasn’t her that everyone else was laughing at.

A horrible feeling settled in the pit of her stomach, and she was pretty sure it wasn’t just the odd mix of raspberry and cotton candy ice cream.  She should’ve stayed to cheer him up, right?  

“Tikki, what’s wrong with me?”  She groaned, dropping her forehead against the side of the alley.  “Why did I run away like that?  I probably made Luka hate me!”

The kwami flew out from her purse.  “I don’t think he can hate you, Marinette.  He still liked you even when he knew you were in love with Adrien.”

“For some reason.”  She sighed.

“Do you want him to like you?”  Tikki prodded gently.

“I don’t… I don’t know.”  She bonked her head against the wall again. Ow.  “He likes me, and he’s nice, and we… have absolutely nothing in common.”

There.  She admitted it.  They both liked Jagged Stone, but lots of people liked Jagged Stone.

(Adrien liked Jagged Stone.  He’d asked for her autograph, and she’d just about melted.)

What she felt with Luka was nothing like that.  It was nervous usually, until he started playing his guitar.  The chords, if simple, were still soothing.

“Did I just think he made me comfortable because he played the guitar?  Am I really that shallow?”

“Of course you aren’t.”  Tikki rubbed her cheek to hers.  “A boy liked you, and it sounds like you liked him at least a little bit.  Even if it was mostly because he played guitar.”

Marinette groaned.

“But now he plays the kazoo and I don’t want to hear his song!  And I really can’t think of anything else we have to talk about.  And I won’t go on dates with him and move on from Adrien and I’ll end up old and alone with a tarantula instead of a hamster and—”

“Marinette, you know that’s not going to happen.”  Tikki patted her face again.  “There are plenty of other boys besides Adrien and Luka.  And you don’t have to move on with a boy.  You have plenty of time to just be you.  Maybe that’s for the best, with you being the guardian now.”

“Don’t remind me.”  She squeezed her eyes shut.  She wished she had someone to rely on as the guardian.  Luka had been there that one time when she couldn’t take it anymore, but she couldn’t actually tell him anything.  If only she could talk to…

“Chat Noir,” she whispered, eyes going wide.

“What?”  

She paced back and forth across the width of the alley.  “I want to talk to Chat.  I can do that now, can’t I?  I’m the guardian.  No, but Master Fu did what he did for a reason.  I can’t go sharing important secrets.  But if Fu did tell us more maybe we could’ve protected him better.”

“Um, Marinette—” 

“Either way he’s gone and I don’t know what to do, Tikki!  He didn’t finish teaching me everything and here I am worried because of a boy playing the kazoo!”

She spun, breaths coming too quickly, hoping to hear Tikki’s words of wisdom to help her calm down.

Instead, she came face to face with Adrien.  Adrien, whose eyes were practically bugging out of his head.  A cute smear of ice cream still clung to his parted lips.  That was easier to focus on than the fact that he’d almost certainly heard every word she said to Tikki.

His mouth opened and closed again.  “Uh.”

“Oh no.”

“You’re…!”

“No, no, of course I’m not!”  She waved her arms frantically.  Tikki’d had the sense to dive back into her purse, but the damage was already done.

“You’re Ladybug,” he breathed.  “It’s you.  Of course it’s you.”

Tears pricked her eyes.  One day into being the guardian, and she’d already let someone figure out her secret identity!  And it was Adrien, and while she thought he could keep a secret, she couldn’t ignore the incident with the beret, and if he told anyone and that awful future happened— 

“Marinette, hey, hey, it’s alright.”  He stepped towards her, too close, not close enough.  “I’m not going to tell anyone.  I swear.  I—I didn’t mean to.  I just wanted to make sure you were okay, and then I heard and I can’t unhear and—please don’t be mad.”

He looked down at her with such a distraught expression, she couldn’t imagine him ever breaking that oath.

“I’m not mad at you, Adrien.”  She bit her lip and looked down, afraid she might actually start crying if she had to see his pain any longer.  Which was ridiculous, because it was her identity that was compromised.  “You were just trying to help, and—and it’s my fault for not being careful enough.”

Her voice choked.  His arm reached towards her, hesitated, fell back to his side.  Of course he wouldn’t pull her into the hug that she craved.  He was dating Kagami now; it was surprising enough that he’d left her just to come make sure she was alright.  He really was a wonderful friend.

Maybe that was all she needed right now.

“It’s not your fault, my—Marinette.”  He swallowed.  “It could’ve happened to either of us.”

“Yes, but it’s not a big deal if someone finds out you once used the snake miraculous.  Nearly all of the other heroes were compromised yesterday, anyway.”

Her fault again.  She was back to square one, just her and Chat Noir against the world… and possibly Adrien too.  He hadn’t been revealed yesterday.  Maybe it would be worth it to give him a miraculous again?

He laughed awkwardly.  “Yeah. Of course.”

“So… yeah.”  She nodded.  “I’m just going to.  Go home now.”

Where she could cry in peace and Tikki could lecture her and she could find someone else to pass off the miracle box to because clearly she wasn’t ready, only there was no one else who could possibly do it except maybe Chat Noir, and he didn’t deserve that kind of pressure either, and— 

“Marinette, wait.”  

This time Adrien did grab her hand.  She did her best to control her flush.

“I know you didn’t want me to know, but… I’m still your friend, okay?  You can tell me anything.  Especially now, if you need someone to lean on…”

She did.  Oh, she did, and any other day she would leap headfirst into that offer.

But all she could think of now was Adrien smiling softly as he wiped ice cream from Kagami’s cheek.  It wasn’t like he couldn’t still be her friend when he was dating someone else, but she wasn’t sure her heart could take trusting him with all of her secrets except the one she’d actually wanted to tell.

She loved him.  Even now, knowing he had just become a threat to her identity, she loved him.

And it was too late to say it.

“Thank you, but I’d actually rather talk to Chat Noir right now.  I hope you’ll understand.”

He blinked and opened his mouth before shaking his head.  “Right.  Of course.  I’m glad you trust him.”

“I do.”  She looked towards the sliver of sky above the alley as hope blossomed in her.  She did trust Chat.  He would be able to help her through this, just like he’d supported her during Miracle Queen’s short reign.  “I wish he’d been the first to know my identity, but if anyone else had to… I’m glad it’s you, you know.  I lo—I trust you too.”

Really?  Now she almost said it?  He didn’t seem to notice, though.  His expression softened into a smile.

“Thank you, Marinette.  That means a lot to me.”

She smiled back, palm braced against the alley wall to make up for the weakness in her knees.

“Oh, um—is Luka alright?”  She barely remembered to ask.  It was probably the least of her worries, but it was still worth checking.  “I didn’t mean to hurt his feelings.  The whole kazoo thing was just—I was so embarrassed and I ran away without thinking.  He was just trying to be nice, and I didn’t have the heart to tell him that I didn’t like it.”

“You never seemed to have a problem telling that to Chat Noir,” he said.  Was that a hint of… jealousy she detected in his voice?  No way; she had to be imagining that.

“That’s because I know Chat Noir.  He knows I don’t return his feelings…”  she trailed off, blinking at the ground.

Chat had been the first person she wanted to talk to when she was upset.  The one who always supported her, who knew all her weaknesses and flaws and still looked at her like she’d hung the moon in the sky.  Who wouldn’t hesitate to risk everything for her, who trusted her even when she was wrong but was always, always there to make things right.  

He was the one who called her his Lady.  He was the one whose hug felt like home.  

“Marinette?”  Adrien asked.

“Oh,” she breathed.

“Oh?”

She looked up and met his eyes, and before she knew it, she was confessing to the wrong crush.

“I think I’m in love with Chat Noir.”

[turnaboutimagines]

Could I get something for Miles with a crush who also fear elevators? Literally anything honestly ( projecting? What's that hahahaha ) your writing is so good I'm w e a k ;-;

You sure can, pal!  I got a lot more carried away with this one than I thought I would, hope you enjoy it because it was a blast to write.  ^^  Thank you for the kind words and for reading so many of my things, seeing you in my notifications always makes me smile.Feat. Reader who’s scared of elevators!

Going up to Edgeworth’s office up on the twelfth floor is always a challenge…  It’s too many sets of stairs to justify getting some ‘exercise’ so you always have to bite the bullet and get on the elevator.  As far as elevators go, it feels safer than most, but you still don’t trust it.

Your eyes cycle between staring at the lit up button and the shiny steel of the doors themselves as you wait for the elevator to come back down.  The pit in your stomach is more distracting than usual and you’re fairly sure it’s because of Miles, himself, standing right beside you with the plastic bag containing lunches that you’d brought in hand (when you’d bumped into him returning at the same time, he’d insisted that he carry it).  You can hear it crinkle as he shifts it every once in a while, but otherwise the silence between you is tense.

It’s always harder to have to try and pretend like elevators don’t bother you, to pass as ‘normal’.

You aren’t able to linger on such thoughts as the chime of the elevator sounds and the doors slide open.  The two of you step on and Miles presses the ‘12′ button before falling back to stand beside you.  A deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth, you watch the doors slide shut before the elevator lurches upwards.  The air almost immediately becomes suffocating in its quiet.

2… 3… 4…

Counting the soft dings that come with each floor gives you something to distract yourself with.  A countdown to returning to the safety of solid, unmoving ground to pass the time.

5… 6… 7…

The elevator stutters on its way up, a small and common type of hiccup in its movements.  To you, however?  It’s all it takes to send your mind into a catastrophizing free fall.  Without even thinking about it, you instinctively turn to Miles and grab his nearest hand, the empty one, in desperate need of something tangible comforting.

8…

He practically jumps out of his skin at the contact, blush exploding across his face before creeping back toward his ears.  Looking toward you, he opens his mouth as if to say something, but promptly closes it, there’s an almost panicked look in his eyes despite seeming bewildered.  It reminds you of how a child looks when you’ve caught them doing something embarrassing.  However, his expression quickly shifts by the simple act of his brows drawing down and knitting together, confusion seamlessly transitioning into concern.

9…

A different kind of panic lurches into your throat as you realize the full extent of what you just did.  You’d given yourself away and managed to grab your crush’s hand.  Turning back away from him, you loosen your grip on his hand in preparation to release it.

Instead, he looks forward again, too, but gives your hand a gentle squeeze before you can pull away.  A silent way of telling you that you don’t have to.  It… almost feels as if he’s pleading you not to?

So you don’t and curl your fingers back around his hand.

10… 11…

The rest of the way, you can’t stop thinking about the fact that you’re holding hands with Miles.  The fact that you’re on an elevator becomes only a minor detail.

12…

You let go of his hand right before the door slides open and step out, walking side by side as you make a beeline for his office.  Just glad to be off that stifling hot death trap and into the cool air of the hallway.

He unlocks his office and holds the door open for you before following you inside, all with ease despite only having one hand available.  How can he be perfect at everything?

“I’m, um, sorry about all of that?”  You let out a nervous laugh as you sit down on the sofa in his office, placing your hands on your knees as you stare into your lap.  “I’m just… scared of elevators?  A little bit?”

Your face feels like it’s on fire at the admission, it’s such a childish fear to have to the average person.  And Miles is so much more than an average person, too, despite his actions in the elevator you can’t help but feel like he must view you as silly or childish now.

“For what it’s worth… I’m… no fan of them, either.”

You look up to him, only to see that he’s looking away with a subtle grimace on his face.  There’s either a story there or a similar sense of shame to the one you share, perhaps a bit of both.

That certainly does explain the look he gave you—he must’ve thought you noticed him startle from the same error.

“But let’s speak of this no more,” he says, expression returning to its usual stoic glower as he pulls out the two containers of food you’d brought (although is there still some light pink on his cheeks?).  “I believe we have plenty of other more pressing matters to discuss in this meeting.”

You give him a nod and a smile when he stands up and brings your food over to you; unable to help finding his serious handling of your friendly lunch together more than a little endearing.  When he hands you the container, his fingers accidentally brush against yours, reminding you of the fact that you’d just held that hand only minutes ago… and how nice it felt.  The thought causes heat to prickle along your cheeks once again.

He can’t bring himself to look at you (oh, his cheeks are definitely flushed now) and as soon as you have a firm grasp, he pulls his hand away and promptly retreats back to the safety of his desk.

Maybe… he had the same line of thought?  

You give yourself a subtle shake of the head as you open the box and move to take a first bit of your meal.  Surely not.  He’s probably just flustered by what happened, too, you know he’s not the most physically affectionate person.

Before you can get too lost in thought again, he prompts the conversation by asking about your day and any lingering embarrassment promptly evaporates between the excellent company and food.

[gguktarts]

decathect | jjk (2)

1. to withdraw one’s feelings of attachment from (a person, idea, or object), as in anticipation of a future loss

summary: if one thing was clear to you when you first met Jeon Jungkook, it was that he would never love you. at least, not the way you wanted him to.

pairing: jjk x reader genre: unrequited love au || angst || little fluff if u Squint || drabble series word count: 2.2k parts:  « previous | 2 / ? | next » cw: kinda unhealthy depictions of a crush, & jk is a fuckboy w lots of tatts and long hair. note: well,, i don’t like this one bUT here yall go!!! breaky breaky eggs and heart bakey ey :’)

Being late to class was the first of the signs, you should have known. It didn’t impact your grade in any way, but the reason behind it certainly stirred about some changes.

While Jungkook still remains a part of some of your days, lately it’s a less common occurrence. You figure maybe it’s his doing, that your face must have given you away that day, that he must have figured something out and that whatever he knows doesn’t sit well with him, but deep down you know it’s your fault.

It’s not that he’s avoiding you, but that you’re avoiding him–as well as the images that still haunt your memory. So, whenever you see him in the halls you turn and walk away just a tiny bit faster, and when you guys speak, you only voice out what’s necessary. It’s gotten to the point where you worry over him thinking you’re mad at him, when in fact you are not. You’re not upset that he kissed someone, how could you be? Jungkook is more of a stranger than he is a friend to you, and he owes you nothing. And it doesn’t matter that the constant reminder makes your heart drop all the way to your feet, nor that despite everything your stomach still battles the fluttering butterflies his smile cultivates and nurses. It’s actually that last part that annoys you out of all, the one that triggered your flight response.

Even now, sharing your favorite takeout at Tae’s, it’s clear you’re more closed off with him than usual – even when the subject is as ridiculous as VHS porn. Actual, physical VHS porn, all property of Taehyung. He apparently went on a shopping spree early in the morning, which explains the two thick tapes inches from his plate. They’re keeping the lot of you some extra company.

“I just can’t believe you bought more, honestly. And with real money,” you mutter in disbelief, amusement painting your tone. The fact that Tae not only owns (and buys) them but also keeps them in pristine condition is not something you understand. He doesn’t even have a VHS player. "You know the internet exists, right, babe? And with better quality.”

A look at the colorful cases makes you visibly cringe. There’s far too many freed titties and schoolgirl skirts for your liking. “They’re probably as bad as the old ones aren’t they��”

Tae’s eyes widen with a hint of betrayal; his chopsticks pointing at you in accusation. “They’re HISTORIC, ok? Like beanie babies... And they only cost 3 dollars each—”

"How would you know if hyung’s tapes are bad or not?” Jungkook’s voice interrupts, doing nothing but throwing you under the bus with the teasing question.

You blink, for a hot second forgetting you haven’t told Taehyung about that specific day a few months back. He was gone all day doing who knows what, while Namjoon and yourself, under the tight reign of curiosity and the profound liberty of a free evening, went over the most ridiculous titles he owns. It’s the sudden look of suspicion he gives you what brings back the fact to surface. Right. You’re the one with the VHS player. He knows that. 

From your peripheral Jungkook’s inquisitive gaze pierces your skin, distracting you from the way Namjoon’s posture straightens with the reminder. He hasn’t said a single word to stop you, though, so you take that as a sign.

“Joon and I watched them,” you confess quickly, slurping on some stir-fry noodles with a small, apologetic smile playing on your lips. “And I’m sorry for not telling you earlier, but Tae, they’re terrible. Except maybe… Eaten by the Big Bad Wolf, I guess.”

The name makes Jungkook break out in giggles, a sound so cute you have to press your lips together just to not grin along with him. Whining, Taehyung swats the younger’s arm before whipping his head to look between Joon and you, more pouty than angry.

“First of,” he begins, “Eaten by 2BW IS good. You guys are just uncultured about the rest. But more importantly, you two? Both?” 

None of you deny it. Joon simply grins apologetically and shrugs, far too busy gulping down his meat to do more than that— he knows Tae won’t do anything to him, he’s too valuable a roommate. Instead, you hear Jungkook voice out a tiny surprised “huh” before any words leave him. 

“I didn’t take you for the type to watch porn, Y/N.”

You still mid bite, eyebrow raised as you’re forced to glance his way. “Because I’m a girl?”

“No, it’s just… you don’t strike me as a sexual one, I guess?”

“Oh.”

He doesn’t say it to hurt you, you know that. It’s not like his phrasing should hurt you either, but somehow, it still does. It’s easy for you to skip past all you should be thankful for—that he doesn’t sexualize you, that he doesn’t consider you an option for the fuck-and-go experiences he tends to have, and that maybe, just maybe, therefore you’re not seen as disposable. All of those, while in ways reassuring, are drowned out by a single underlying fact: in a world where Jungkook knows not love but lust, where his touch is reserved for only the bright who catch his eye, you’re but a white dwarf to his starry gaze, all but faded and extinguished. Nearly a dead star, you’re empty of whatever he searches for, of whatever he wants, and so what little he gives you are never meant to get.

The thought rings around your eardrums enough seconds for your smile to drop and your teeth to clench, but you’re quick to put on a mask of vague confusion and annoyance. Even your tone comes out dry.

“Jee, thanks? I’m flattered I can contain my hormones in check.”

“It’s because you’re never here when she’s ovulating–she gets hornly as hell,” Tae counters just when the youngest opens his mouth, eyes on him before they settle on you. His gaze goes soft, as if asking if you’re okay in between the jabs, speaking the words he isn’t. But you’re too busy almost choking, heat spreading from your ears and along your cheeks, to notice it. The thought that he spoke to shut Jungkook up not crossing your mind. “I don’t really understand why you never do anything about it, love. Could literally be getting love-fucked right about now.”

“Taehyung, what the fuck?” you squeak, embarrassment threatening to consume you, but thankful nonetheless it’s a type of distraction. You don’t see Jungkook blink in confusion, nor his repeated whisper of Tae’s new word. You focus on the way Namjoon pinches Tae’s arm. It earns him a glare and a yelp.

“Leave her alone, man,” Joon chides, making you smile again without entirely understanding the look they briefly share. 

“What? She knows I love her,” Tae says, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. He’s always quick to butter you up with it. “You do know that, don’t you?”

“Yes. But if we could just shift the topic to something besides my non-existent love life I’d love that even more." 

"What?” Joon opens his mouth after a blink, suddenly intrigued because as far as he’s concerned, you were practically dating last you spoke to him about that. Only, you weren’t–aren’t, and even if he is on your side in this conversation, he’s too big of an information hoarder (read: gossip) to let it go from the get go. “But I thought the date with Jaebum went okay?”

You give him a look. “Date? We were studying for our midterms, like I told you.”

“Oh, I thought– but he looks so interested in you…”

Taehyung nods along, “Yea, whenever he sees me he asks about you.”

“Wait, are we talking about Jackson-hyung’s friend?” Jungkook asks, tone mildly curious. You drown the words out, but his voice still makes your throat close up for a few seconds longer.

“Yup,” Namjoon confirms, “You know him?" 

"Never actually talked to him, but Yugyeom hangs with him from time to time. Seems nice enough,” Jungkook shrugs, turning to you with a soft, encouraging smile. “I don’t know if he likes you but if you’re interested I could ask–”

“I’m not,” you snap, jaw clenching. Your fingers stiffly hold onto the chopsticks, a flimsy attempt at ignoring the way your bones hold your heart before it slips and falls. And it does fall, because you can already feel the sickening feeling pooling and spreading from your stomach and along your limbs. You notice it so quickly that you remind yourself, like a mantra, that this is ridiculous, that you shouldn’t even be feeling this way. Yes, he doesn’t like you. You knew that already, Y/N. Going from point A to point B, it’s logical he doesn’t care if you date anyone, that he encourages it as long as you’re into it. But you don’t want his kindness.

Hurt flashes over Jungkook’s gaze as you stare him down, but it’s gone so quickly you’re unsure if it was there in the first place. Still, the thought you might have caused it doesn’t sit well with you. It quickly forms a lump in your throat, making you swallow before softening your features.

“I’m– I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound like an ass,” your voice comes out a whisper, and you turn back to your plate. Jungkook’s own “it’s okay,” is too soft your ears. You know you have to behave normally, quickly. So you press your lips together and offer them a dramatic sigh to at least begin to sound believable. 

“I’d just rather none of you did anything. I already know he likes me, he’s asked me out before,” you confess, voice somehow unwavering. It gives the push you need to put on a mask of indifference as you look head on, not at Jungkook but at Joon. He looks surprised, but remains quiet. “And no, I didn’t accept. He is nice, but I–I don’t like anyone like that at the moment.”

It takes effort to finish the lie, to hide the sting in front of them–in front of him– but you have more than one tell. And Taehyung knows each and every one very well. The soft rebuke, the intensified interest in your noodles as the lie flowed through your lips. Tae knows you, sometimes better than you know yourself, and he knows he has to do what he does best: he shifts the tone. 

“That’s okay. You’re too good for him anyways. But none of that matters because I just remembered something I find absurdly unforgivable,” Taehyung says, face going completely serious. His eyes are fixed on you with such intensity you wonder if he’s about to tell you the secrets of the universe, or his mom’s secret strawberry cheesecake recipe, which seems less likely. Instead he lets out the shrillest whine, “you did not tell me you love me back. Now explain to me, how am I supposed to continue on? What will inspire me now, huh?”

And just like that, the tense air begins to clear out.

“Eh, you’ll live,” you joke, physically unable to push back the tiny smile lighting up your face at his antics.

“Not like you’ve painted anything in ages, anyway,” Namjoon adds, teasing. 

“Well, if I had any of my own paint,” Tae mutters, giving Jungkook a pointed look, “maybe I’d find some inspiration.”

Jungkook scoffed, “I have two tubes total, not your entirely collection, hyung.”

“Yes, but you have my favorite ones! Amethyst Shards and Indigo Fields are so hard to find, too…”

“I’m almost done with them anyways, just pass by tomorrow and pick them up,” Jungkook snickers, eyes crinkling at the other’s pout.

“Fine, but show me what you’re working on.”

Taking the moment to drift away, you grab the already empty plates and take them to the kitchen. It’s Namjoon’s turn to wash the dishes so you leave them be, and return to both of your boys huddled around Jungkook’s extended hand, phone on display. 

You don’t know what you expected to see, but it’s definitely not the portrait of the girl he was kissing the other day. She’s laying on her side, naked on a bed of violets, and you can’t deny she’s beautiful. Your heart sinks further than before as you take in the level of detail he poured into his work, into her. The way her hair falls over her arms and tangles with the leafs underneath, the way a form of innocence is reflected on her eyes. They’re elements you see only because he sees them. Did she change his mind about relationships? Does he like her, just the way you like him? You don’t know– you don’t know anything at all. 

You feel like puking your insides out. And you’re aware you’re at the end of the rope for the day, that the thin line is about to break, and that you can’t hold back the water pooling behind your eyes for much longer. So like usual, you try to flee.

At the very least you compliment his work, genuinely amazed by his ability, but that’s the last you can do before the masks starts to crack. You don’t register his grateful smile, nor anything after that, really. You just give Tae an offhand excuse you don’t really process, and without waiting for any sort of response you scurry out of the room, vision blurry.

By the time you’re inside safer walls, tears have already stained your cheeks.

[makomori]

THREE | INTRODUCTIONS (Brand New Story)

USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI x OC

Nishimura Yua has to take her nephew to his first rep practice with the Tohoku Tigers at Shiratorizawa Academy. Ushijima Wakatoshi is filling in for the assistant coach on said team.

She’s recovering from a nasty breakup and he’s reeling from a stunning finals loss against the Jackals.

Yua’s drawn to his composure and honesty.

Wakatoshi finds her warmth and tenacity intriguing.

It’s the start of a Brand New Story; can they heal from past hurts and endure new challenges in order to help each other trust and love again?

CHAPTERS

ONE | NEW TERRITORY

TWO | FAMILIARITY

Length: 3.2k words

Yua convinces her nephew that a pepper session with a top V.League player isn't the scariest thing in the world. And Wakatoshi tries to understand the woman who's determination can't be ignored.

Worlds change when eyes meet | David Jones

Yua’s head whipped toward the man in question. No wonder he seemed familiar. He was taller and looked like he gained more muscle compared to the last time she saw him, but that was definitely Ushijima Wakatoshi on the other side of the gym.

But when she considered it, Ushijima-san being a part of the coaching staff made sense. He was one of Shiratorizawa’s most famous graduates and was likely to still have strong ties to the academy. She wouldn’t be surprised if Saitou-sensei coached him in high school.

Well, this turned out better than Yua expected. Without a second thought, she pulled on Rui’s hand, intent on marching over to introduce them— but stopped when his grip tightened, almost painfully, around her fingers. Surprised, she looked back at him. His eyes darted between her and Ushijima-san a few times before he worried his bottom lip with his teeth. When he tugged on her coat sleeve with his other hand, she finally understood.

Oh.

She stood in front of him and took both his hands in hers. “Hey,” she called out. Her voice was soft. When Rui’s gaze settled back on her, she thumbed his chin gently and smiled.

Yua was used to interacting and meeting with different people every day because of her job. They were usually CEOs and other higher-ups in various companies; she was seldom intimidated by titles or merits. But a moment ago, she was in planning mode and completely forgot to consider Rui’s feelings. He was about to meet someone he admired, after all.

“Wanna meet him?”

“W-what?” Her nephew sputtered. “Meet U-ushijima-sensei? I don’t know…” She could feel his flight response rising fast, so she squeezed his hands, hoping to act as an anchor while she talked him through her plan.

Yua nodded. Rui was logical like her, so she was going to lay out all the pros and cons for him. “Think about it. He’s here early, which means he’s the either the coach or the assistant coach.” Rui opened his mouth to protest but fell silent when he realized the truth of her words. “You’ll have to talk to him sooner or later. Why not sooner?”

Rui looked over at Ushijima-sensei again. He desperately wanted to meet him, but he didn’t know what to say. It sounded a lot easier in his head. He didn’t want to come off as a clingy and annoying fan. “I-I don’t know,” he repeated. “I don’t wanna bother him.”

Yua squeezed his hands again. She understood where he was coming from. He was probably thinking that Ushijima-san would reject him somehow. Sure, it was always a possibility, but Yua wouldn’t let that happen. “Sweetheart, I understand how you feel. It is scary meeting someone you look up to, but I’m sure you won’t be bothering him. He’ll be expecting you to ask a lot of questions. He’s here to teach you, remember?”

Rui rocked back and forth on his feet. He knew everything Yua-chan said was true, but he was still nervous. What if Ushijima-sensei said he wasn’t good at volleyball? And that he should stop playing? The man on the other side of the gym played on one of the top teams in the V.League and was skilled at every aspect of the game; why would he take the time to work with someone like him?

Rui didn’t think he could handle that kind of rejection.

“Hey.” Yua’s steady voice snapped him out of his terrible thoughts again. “Ushijima-san’s at the top of the V.League now, but he was just like you at one point—a thirteen-year-old who loves volleyball.”

Rui perked slightly at her words. “Y-you think so?”

Yua nodded strongly. “He loved volleyball enough to make it his full-time job. And I know because Tak-kun was just like you, too. Now he’s playing for Waseda.” She looked back and pointed at the man Rui was so anxious to meet and avoid all at once. “But one day soon, he’s gonna be just like Ushijima-san; playing in the V.League and loving every second of it.”

Her nephew’s eyes widened as he realized that he shared something in common with his idol. Just like me, his face expressed.

Yua tried to hide her grin when she saw determination return to Rui’s eyes. Meeting his idol was probably the last thing he thought he was going to do today, but there was no way she was going to let him pass up the opportunity to train with a player like Ushijima. She was proud of him. Despite being a bit nervous, he still trusted her to guide him through an unfamiliar situation. She looked at him one more time, and he returned her gaze with less apprehension.

“Yua-chan, I-I still don’t know what to say to him.”

“How about I take care of the introductions?” She offered. He nodded furiously in response. “Then I’ll give you the cue to come in and say you’re a big fan, and that you’ve admired his skills since you were little. How’s that?” Rui nodded again, this time committing her advice to memory. She gave his arms a light shake and chuckled when he looked down at her. “I’ll be right beside you the whole time.”

Rui smiled; his notorious twin dimples making their appearance. “Let’s go.”

~

Wakatoshi felt at ease as soon as he stepped onto the Shiratorizawa campus, but he was truly at home when he walked into the gym. He told himself to set the net up first but couldn’t resist when he saw the Mikasa balls piled in the hammock. After all, he did tell sensei that he was going to warm up before practice started.

He started with a drill where he passed to himself fifty times and repeated the process two more times. Then, he alternated short and high passes to himself two hundred times. After that, he did passes against the wall about three hundred times. He usually did about six hundred reps, but he decided to go easy on himself since he hadn’t played in a month.

Once that was done, he decided to start a wall spikes drill; his favourite. By the time he was on his twentieth rep, he was breathing hard, but he didn’t feel heavy like he did on his jog the other morning. It was peaceful. Everything was familiar. The weightlessness of the ball just before his heavy swing sent it flying to the wall. The double THUD of the ball bouncing before it floated back to him. And the satisfaction of timing his next swing exactly right.

Wakatoshi knew there were a lot of things he couldn’t control. But training like this was a way for him to let go and not worry too much about the details. In hindsight, he really shouldn’t have stayed away for this long, but there was no point in—

Suddenly, a hand shot out in front of him from the right. It was accompanied by, “Sumimasen!”

Wakatoshi caught the ball easily as it bounced back to him. Strange. He wasn’t expecting anyone to show up for another hour. When he turned, all his mind could register was:

B R I G H T

After a moment, he blinked at woman standing before him. Like most of the women he knew, she didn’t come close to challenging his height of six-foot-three, despite being taller than average. However, something was different about her. The top of her head barely reached his collarbones, but the energy he felt coming from her was powerful and almost irresistible.

Their eyes locked.

Her honey-brown gaze was warm and strong, as if they were constantly focused on accomplishing a goal. It reminded him of the intense, singular stare Hinata gave him when they met. Normally, Wakatoshi was the one who caused people to feel uneasy with his candor. Who was she? Unaware of the turmoil stirring within him, she smiled. It affirmed his first impression of her. She was indeed bright. Even white teeth and twin dimples only added to her appeal.

“I’m so sorry to interrupt, but are you one of the coaches?”

Her voice was smooth, low, and Wakatoshi decided that he enjoyed its cadence. He allowed his eyes to wander over her briefly. Early spring in Sendai was still brisk, hence her choice to don a long, soft gray overcoat. When his gaze drifted back up, he finally noticed the expansive collection of freckles on her square-shaped face. Half of her wavy black hair was pinned expertly in a bun at the top of her head, with the rest falling past her shoulders, softening her defined jaw. Arching brows framed her warm eyes. And full, expressive lips were curved into a kind smile.

Remembering that it was rude to stare, Wakatoshi cleared his throat and finally answered. “I am. The assistant coach is sick, so I’ll be helping Saitou-sensei with practice today.” There was that disarming smile again. He couldn’t help but lift the corners of his own mouth in response.

“My name is Yua. It’s nice to meet you.” She bowed to him in greeting. “And this is my nephew, Rui. He’s one of your students.” Pride was clear in Yua-san’s voice. She loved the boy deeply. She reached for the tall teen to her left, who shuffled over before looking up at him. Hesitation was evident on his face.

Despite the young man’s nervousness, Wakatoshi could tell that he was serious about volleyball. The fact he was here an hour before practice spoke volumes about his work ethic. Sensei also had a knack for scouting talented players; the dark red Chidoriyama tracksuit he wore was another promising sign of his skill.

Yua. He doubted he’d forget her name any time soon. He bowed in response. “I’m Wakatoshi.”

Her eyes twinkled with delight. “The Ushijima Wakatoshi? The Adlers’ Left Cannon?”

Wakatoshi felt his ears grow hot and he resisted fought the urge to rub the back of his neck; his habit when he was embarrassed. Despite all his success in the last several years, he still wasn’t used to being recognized. He often wondered how Romero-san managed to deal with the constant attention. He was always relaxed and attentive during interviews or whenever fans swarmed him.

“That’s right.”

“I knew you seemed familiar,” she said, while returning his perusal. He found himself wondering what assumptions she had just made about him. “Rui-kun recognized you right away.” The young man tensed at the sound of his name, but she remained steady at his side.

Wakatoshi surmised that he was nervous about meeting him; a reaction he was used to. But he wanted to change that. He wasn’t charismatic like Romero-san, but surely there was something he could do that would make Rui-kun feel at ease. Unsure about what to say, he continued to address Yua.

“Were you a student at Shiratorizawa?”

No. It would be difficult to forget someone with her presence.

Yua shook her head. “No, but my younger brother was. He dragged me to a couple of your games while he was in middle school.” She smiled again, remembering how excited Tak-kun got every time Ushijima-san went up for a spike. “He’s always complaining because he never got to play on the same team as you.”

“Does he still play?” Wakatoshi was always curious about the talent that came from the academy.

“Tak-kun’s a middle blocker at Waseda. He’s aiming for the V.League in a few years because he wants battle scary wing spikers like you.” Her smile held a challenge this time and his curiosity was piqued. He was never one to back down from a strong opponent.

“But Rui-kun here is a fan of yours.” Yua’s voice softened, and the young man finally mustered the courage to look at him. A gentle nudge from his aunt was all the encouragement he needed.

He stepped forward and bowed. “H-hello Ushijima-sensei, I’m Rui. I-I’ve thought you were a great player ever since I was little.”

It would take time for Wakatoshi to get used to hearing that. “Thank you, Rui-kun. It’s nice to meet you.” He was constantly learning and adapting his current skills, so Wakatoshi still considered himself a student. “What position do you play?”

Rui-kun looked back at Yua, and she smiled gently and gave him a reassuring nod. “W-wing spiker. Hayate-sensei said I’m an outside because I’m right-handed.”

Wakatoshi nodded in approval. He couldn’t wait to see his skills in real time. “Then you’re like Romero-san.”

The teen’s eyes lit up, and the tension in his body was replaced instantly by excitement. “Nicollas Romero? Really?? He’s so cool.” His words came out in a rushed breath, and Wakatoshi chuckled.

“I agree. I’ll be sure to tell him he’s got another big fan.” He was relieved that Rui-kun’s energy changed at something he said. He hadn’t interacted too much with younger fans other than signing autographs and occasionally posing for pictures, but he seemed to be doing all right for the moment.

Rui barely stopped himself from jumping up and down. “You will?? Can you tell Houshiumi-san that he’s amazing, too?? I’ve never seen anyone jump so high! Except for Ninja Shoyo!”

Yua’s smile became bigger as Rui-kun’s excitement grew. That was one of the things she loved about him. He was so passionate about his interests that you couldn’t help being swept up in his positive energy. He didn’t realize it now, but that passion would serve him well as player and eventual captain. He was the type of person teammates would naturally rally behind and support without question.

“I was cheering for you and the Adlers the whole time!”

Wakatoshi smiled. “I think I heard your cheering all the way in Tokyo.” Sometimes, he forgot that people from all over Japan and the world watched his games.

Rui-kun suddenly looked down and clasped his hands together. He looked like he was at odds about what he about to say next. So, his voice was quiet when he spoke. “Uhm, I’m sorry you didn’t win the championship this year. The game was still amazing to watch.”

Wakatoshi was moved by his kind words. As young as he was, Rui-kun understood what it was like to lose even though you put everything you have into it. “Thank you,” he murmured. “The loss was hard for all of us.”

“Were you upset?” Rui-kun’s light brown eyes were full of sympathy. He was genuinely upset that the Adlers has lost such an important game. “I’m always get upset when lose.”

Wakatoshi considered his next words very carefully. Somehow, he knew his answer would have a huge effect on this young man’s life as a player and as an individual. He was beginning to understand how Romero-san dealt with press and fans so well. Like the players he looked up to and aspired to be when he was younger, Wakatoshi’s current position in the V.League enabled him to inspire the next generation of players, which included Rui-kun.

“I was upset for a few weeks,” he started. That was an understatement. “But losing isn’t a bad thing. It hurts, yes, but you can always learn something from it.”

Rui-kun’s eyes had grown owlishly wide; he was hanging onto his every word. “Like what?”

Wakatoshi squatted down in front of the boy, who’s mouth gaped open at the action. “Everyone loses at some point,” he murmured. “Even me. But losing makes you want to work even harder so you can do your best to win next time. The good thing about volleyball is that you’re never alone. You can always lean on your team and coaches for support.” His eyes shifted up to Yua briefly, who was watching him just as intently as her nephew. “Family, too.” He heard her breath hitched quietly at his admission.

“I-I’ve never thought of it that way,” Rui swallowed. “Now that I think about it, me and my team are really close.”

Wakatoshi nodded and grinned. “Good. That bond will make it easier for you to work through challenges together.”

Rui-kun’s wide smile returned. It looked like dimples were a family trait. “We get into fights sometimes, but it’s still fun!”

Wakatoshi stood up. “That’s normal for every team. Fighting is a good way to communicate sometimes.” Teams fought, just like any family would. At the end of the day, a common goal had to be reached and the road wasn’t always going to be smooth.

But working towards that goal was half the fun.

“Uhm, Ushjima-sensei? I was gonna warm up with Yua-chan but I-I was hoping y-you could…” The shyness had returned to Rui-kun’s voice, but Wakatoshi knew exactly what he wanted to ask.

“Would you like to pepper with me? We still have time before the net has to be set up.” The expression on Rui-kun’s face was priceless. He didn’t think his smile could get any bigger. Not bad for his first time as a coach.

Yua-san waved her hand. “I can set everything up while you two practice.”

Wakatoshi frowned and shoot his head. “Yua-san, I couldn’t have you do that—”

But she shook her head. Black hair flowed back and forth over her shoulders and Wakatoshi was reduced to staring again. “It’s all right! I interrupted your drill and you’re taking the time to practice with Rui-kun, so setting up the net is the least I can do to thank you.”

Rui-kun interrupted before he could protest. “Will you really pepper with me??”

“Yes,” Wakatoshi chuckled.

“I’ll be right back!” He sprinted to the other side of the gym, presumably to shred his Chidoriyama tracksuit. Saitou-sensei would have his hands full with him.

“Thank you for training with him.” Wakatoshi turned to the woman who orchestrated this impromptu pepper session. “He was so nervous about meeting you.”

“I tend to get that reaction, although it’s not my intent to make anyone nervous.” He rubbed that back of his neck this time. “I’ve been told that I can be intimidating.”

Yua-san tilted her head and narrowed her eyes, giving him another brief study. Wakatoshi felt like he was being dissected. “Only at first glance. I’ve worked with much scarier clients.” He was relieved when she smiled again. “You’re sweet compared to them.”

His brows shot up. “Sweet?” No one had ever described him that way, especially not after meeting him for the first time.

Yua-san laughed at his reaction. It was a full and sweet sound. “Absolutely,” she said confidently. “You made Rui-kun feel comfortable and gave him good advice about dealing with failure. That’s sweet in my book.”

It was Wakatoshi’s turn to gape. For once in his life, he didn’t know how to respond.

“I’m ready, Ushijima-sensei!” The teen was in the middle of the gym and waving him down furiously.

“You’d better get going,” Yua-san teased. “Rui-kun has boundless energy once he gets excited about something.”

Wakatoshi somehow managed to gather his thoughts before responding. She wasn’t shying away from his bluntness like most people did. In fact, she met him head-on right from the start. He found that refreshing, but slightly unnerving. “Please stay until sensei arrives, Yua-san. I’m sure he’d like to meet you.”

The spark from earlier settled into her honey-brown eyes.

“As you wish, Ushijima-sensei.”

[asparrowandaswann]

C2: RETURN TO SHIPWRECK COVE. PART 3#

The room was small and bare, with a bed which she could tell from a glance creaked terribly. A chest of drawers, empty. A chair with a woven seat stood against the wall. A small table sat in the corner, an old pot of ink, but no papers, no quill. An inch-thick layer of dust covered everything, as Teague had warned. No one had entered this room for quite some time. She could find nothing personal. Nothing which could tell her about Jack, from when he was simply Jackie. Jackie Teague. The boy before the legend. A pang of disappointment gripped her stomach. She had hoped to know him better. Something of his childhood which he would never have told her himself.

Nevertheless, the room smelled of him. As though he had just left the room. Something spiced, a vague hint of sandalwood, and... sweat. Quite overpoweringly of sweat, in fact, considering he hadn't set foot in the room for Lord knows how long. And there was something else... something...

Elizabeth moved towards the bed, the bedding seeming to be the source of the smell, as, where else could his scent be coming from? She pulled back the covers gingerly, and gasped, leaping back. Blood. Dark, old, blackened blood. With a brave sweep, she pulled away the thin blankets entirely. The bed was soaked through. Or had been, some time ago.

Just then, there was a knock at the door.

"Yes?" Her voice broke. She couldn't take her eyes off the blood, wondering whose it was, and hoping to God that it wasn't Jack's.

The door inched open with a creak, and when she turned, she saw a little man, grey and slightly bowed, backing into the room, carrying a stack of linens in his arms as he pushed the door open with his shoulder.

"'ere y'are, yer Kingly-ness." His voice was smooth and grandfatherly, and as he turned, kind blue eyes caught her worried gaze, following it to the bed. The man shook his head sadly. "Aye, t'was a bad time, that."

"What happened here?"

The man placed the bedding down on the wicker chair, taking a moment first to wipe away the best of the dust with a rather soiled handkerchief.

"I've been 'ere since Jackie were a wee lad." He explained, stripping the bloodstained bedding away as he did so. "I was born int' piratin', but truth be told, never been much good a' sea. Much prefer land, so I found myself 'ere, amongst me own, withou' 'avin' t' do much wot pirates be doin'. The lad weren' like tha', though. It surprised no one when 'e ran off t' the sea the momen' 'e turned four'een, withou' so much as a 'bye, pops' to ol' Teague. 'E'd come back now and then, though... always sportin' an injury which needed seein' t'."

Elizabeth's eyes widened. So it was Jack's blood.

"Aye, Miss." The man said, seeing her worry. "There were one particular night... nigh ten years ago or so, now. The boy came stumblin' back, 'avin' sailed 'ere in a little scrap of a boat, with a man named Gibbs. 'Is only crew a' the time, though if you'd seen this boat of 'is, 'e were in no need of a crew. It were small enough to be manned alone. No, 'e'd lost 'is ship, the Pearl, quite recently, in fact, and was still cut up about it. Loves that ship like a mistress, 'e does. So, Gibbs practically carried 'im up 'ere, up the hill, screamin' the whole way for a doc'or. Obviously, place like this, we 'ave one, an' we give 'm enough business to keep 'im 'ere. Doc'or Grove, is 'is name. 'E saw to the lad. 'E'd been shot, twice." The man patted his chest, just over his heart. "T'was a near miss. A few inches further south an'... Well, Teague were furious with 'im. The lad 'ad 'ad a pistol, after all, but 'e'd refused to use it. 'That bullet weren' mean' fer 'im, Dad', 'e kept sayin'. Never seen old Teague so mad, I ain'." Taking the straw mattress, which was also stained straight through, he carried it out into the hallway, returning moments later with a replacement. "This were pillaged just a week ago from a fine Spanish galleon. Should be more fittin' for a King." It was too large for the small bed frame, hanging limply onto the floor, but Elizabeth was grateful all the same.

"I've seen Jack's scars." Elizabeth confessed, thinking back to their time on the island, having been mutinied by Barbossa. She thought of the dark cloud which had crossed Jack's gaze as he had drawn back his sleeves. "How on Earth did he survive?"

The man glanced towards the skies. "Miracle, I reckon. That lad's seen 'is fair share. Someone's smilin' down at 'im, scoundrel though 'e is. 'E must 'ave charmed an angel in a prior life, I reckon. Nah, 'e pulled through by the skin of 'is teeth. I s'pose no one thought to change the beddin'. 'e only ever comes by with some injury or other, when this is the closest friendly bit of land with a doc'or. Whatever 'e lies on would only get soiled again anyway." He busied himself, tucking fine sheets - no doubt taken also from a fine galleon - as best he could under the oversized mattress, and fluffing a fresh goose pillow.

"And that was the last time? That Jack was here?"

"Aye." He brushed his hands together as he stood back to admire his work. "Though..." His face froze, and he half-turned, smiling at Elizabeth with a glint in his cornflower-blue eyes. "Now I come to think of it, there were one other time since. Quite recen'ly, in fact. Couple years back. 'E'd just gotten 'is Pearl back, I believe, an' it were once again ol' Gibbs who brought Jack 'ere, the lad staggerin' an' shoutin' that 'e didn' need no doc'or, 'e just needed 'is Pearl, but Gibbs knew best, as always."

Elizabeth's eyes widened. That must have happened since they had met, after she had watched him from the battlements of Port Royal, sailing into the distance. "What happened?"

"Fever. 'E'd caught summit nasty from some tribe, an' it were burnin' through him. Delirious, 'e were. Rantin' an' ravin' one minute, weepin' into the pillow, the next." He was eying Elizabeth curiously now, watching her. She shifted uncomfortably. "After all 'e'd survived before, no one doubted for a moment that 'e wouldn't pull through. A legend like 'e's carved out for 'imself, 'e could 'ardly go down to a fever, now, could 'e? But it were a nasty sickness, all the same. I remember one evenin', the night before the fever broke, I came in carryin' a tray of broth, to try an' get summit into 'im, an' there were no one else there at the time but the doc'or. The lad were sleepin', so it seemed, but 'e were mutterin' t' 'imself, nonsense, as always, an' neither the doc'or nor I paid it much mind, until..." He stepped closer to Elizabeth now, his voice dropping to a mere whisper. "'E started speakin' a name."

A coil tightened in Elizabeth's gut. "A name?"

"Aye. Name of a woman. Chantin' it, quiet, like, under 'is breath. Now, it caught my attention because I know the lad not to be the settlin' sort. 'E's 'ad 'is flirtations, sure, but no one 'as ever truly caught 'is eye, to my knowledge. The doc'or noticed too, an' asked me if I recognised the name. I said I didn'. 'E stopped as soon as 'e started, an' 'e woke the next mornin', past the worst of it."

Elizabeth licked her lips, her mouth suddenly dry. She wasn't sure if she wanted to know. Obviously Jack had had his fair share of women, but to think that one would leave her mark enough for him to speak her name during his delusions. But of course, her curiosity was too great.

"What was the name?"

The man smirked. "Lizabeth."

Her face burned, and for a moment she lost herself, her mouth gaping with shock. He had spoken her name. They had parted ways, and yet he had chanted her name, calling for her, perhaps dreaming of her under the heavy sleep of fever. What could that mean, besides...?

Pulling her lips into a pout of indignation, she stepped back sharply. "Common enough name. No doubt the whorehouses of Tortuga are teaming with Elizabeths and Lizzys and Elizas and... I'd thank you not to look at me that way." She snapped at his knowing gaze. "And to keep any gossiping thoughts to yourself."

The man mimicked drawing a line across his lips in an oath of silence. "Believe me, Miss, with all that goes on 'ere, that would be one of the more mundane tidbits, anyway."

Still not convinced, she asked warily. "What is your name?"

"Perkins, Miss." He didn't bow, as the gentlemen of Port Royal would have. This was the Kingdom of Pirates, after all. "Pleasure's all mine."

She nodded her head curtly. "Thank you for replacing the bed. I think... I shall sleep now."

The bid him goodnight, locking the door behind him.

Sitting heavily onto the bed, the mattress dipping dangerously off the side of the bed-frame, she thought about all she had learnt that night. She imagined Jack, in this very room, as a young boy desperate to follow the call of the sea, until the urge had been too strong to resist any longer. She imagined him on this bed, writhing in agony while a doctor pulled the bullets from his chest. So much blood had been lost. How on earth had he survived? She imagined him bathed in sweat, sleeping in the bloodstains of his last visit, chanting for her, calling for her. She imagined herself, water bowl in hand, dabbing with a cloth at his brow, soothing him. Clinging to his hand as the doctor performed his crude surgery on his wounds. Stroking his hair as the wounds were cleaned with precious rum, and cauterised with red hot metal. She imagined them both, in this bed, whispering to each other...

Oh, you hussy. Her husband not but a few hours gone, and already she was picturing herself with another man. And not just any man. That man.

God, ten years was a long time, indeed. Her body had been awakened to sensual realities of womanhood, and she knew that she couldn't wait ten years. But as for him... no, she'd have to steer clear of him. Jack was as much a danger to her heart as to her body. He would worm his way into her heart, and stay there. And she must protect Will's heart, above all else. Protect it within her own.

But as for physical pleasure... she resolved again to find a way of communicating with Calypso. After all, all men took lovers, why not a Pirate King?

Removing her heavily armoured coat and belt, she slipped beneath the covers in her black dress, placing her effects on the ground, within easy reach. Glancing again to check the lock of the door, her hand skimmed over her thighs, her fingers travelling to that secret part of her. A part of her still sore from her hasty honeymoon. Flashes of images raced through her mind as she touched herself. A pair of dark, kind eyes. Strong, calloused hands on her bare waist. Her fingers tracing over a scar on a man's chest. Soft, greedy lips tasting her own. A wry smirk. A glint of gold.

Tipping herself into ecstasy, she let the night take her, and let her exhaustion claim her.

[snowbellewells]

Face to Face in the Broad Daylight: Chapter Six

{Chapter six is here in this sequel to my werewolf, alternate season two and beyond fic. This second story in the same universe partially exists just because I wanted to revisit these couples and enjoy a bit more of their fluffy happily ever afters. However, we have definitely gotten them into some new surprises and challenges, and of course Rumplestiltskin seems bent on slipping out of their control and back to his usual scheming and plotting. I left off at an intense place, and so I didn’t want to keep you waiting too much longer for this penultimate (I think?) full chapter...}

Previous chapters: Prologue  // Chapter One  //  Chapter Two  // Chapter Three     // Chapter Four  //  Chapter Five

~~A million thanks yous once again to @branlovestowrite for the gorgeous story banner she created!

~~ And to the @cssns for the opportunity to turn this story idea into a reality!

~ chapter six: all comes down to this

The lake surface before her, over her two frightening opponents’ shoulders, continued to swirl and churn uneasily, quite obviously part of whatever rite was about to be performed. The sinister flashes of sickly greenish-yellow light drew her attention with lurid flair despite the more pressing threats standing right before her.

“W- What are you going to do?” Belle countered with as much gumption as she could manage, regardless of the reasonable fear that also gripped her. She lifted her chin, now that they were face-to-face, and she discovered - grateful for small mercies - she was free to move again and could at least stare down the man she had wasted so much hope and energy on, letting him know with all the venom a gaze could muster that she was finally aware; he was nothing more than the selfish coward he had always been. That didn’t make him any less dangerous, of course, and Belle had a stray moment of absurd pride in herself that her voice had only wavered once in speaking to him. 

Morgana for her part, seemed to have lost interest the moment she’d gathered Belle wasn’t a magical threat or some unknown foe, had released her paralyzing unnatural grip, and taken a step back when Rumple moved forward to deal with his former maid, but Belle couldn’t comfortably take her eyes off the dark-robed and frighteningly cold-eyed woman for more than a few seconds. She could see the cylinder containing Merlin’s hat, just as it had been depicted in the source she’d found, idly held in the enchantress’ hand - and the power radiating from either the talisman or the sorceress herself, or quite possibly both, was so palpable it raised the small hairs on her arms, even without possessing any magical abilities herself.

Yawning and inspecting her nails for a moment, as if the fact that her conspirator was trying to decide the fate of an innocent right beside her was so common as to bore her, the woman finally flicked startling, almost violet eyes toward Rumple, raising a dark brow in question at his hesitation. “Well, are you handling this disruption or should I?” Her hand not clutching the hat slid from within the fold of her robe once more, unfurling toward Belle in a way that signalled only malicious intent, but Rumple gave a sharp shake of his head, arm jerking out to forestall her action. “You will leave her to me,” he spoke harshly, with as much command as she had ever heard.

Morgana huffed and turned back toward the lake, stalking away with the rigid poise Belle couldn’t help but liken with a shiver to the now-deceased former mayor and Evil Queen, only saying as she did, “Well, be quick about it. We cannot lose the hour.”

Belle’s heart almost regained a normal rhythm for a moment, and she readied herself to speak, knowing she might only get one chance to convince him or get him to see reason. He was only slightly less daunting than the powerful stranger, in that she did know some of his weaknesses, the regrets and hurts that hid beneath the beastly mask, and if he had lost all desire to fight off the evil within, then she could still appeal to a different area of his self interest. He had wanted to find his son for as long as she had known him, and he had a grandson right there who would surely accept him still if he only tried; however, murderous vengeance and a spree of unstoppable destruction would endanger both of those things she knew he still wanted.

Before she could put any of those things into audible words, however, Rumple drew even nearer, his eyes glittering with an unholy light. Though his skin was far from the glittering scales she remembered in their fairy tale world, and his suit was fitted to the normal human pawnbroker he meant to portray here, Belle was struck vividly by his likeness to the mad imp she’d once shared a castle with - the Dark One’s prisoner before she had ever been the Evil Queen’s. She was struck suddenly by the real danger she had put, not only herself, but she and Graham’s child, in and the sickening knowledge that if madness and lust for ultimate power had already overtaken his reasoning, then there would be no reaching him as she had hoped.

Indeed they were so close now, he was practically in her face. The look on his stony visage, sharp and uncaring as she had ever seen it, was completely at odds with the gesture of his hand coming up to stroke her smooth, fair cheek once more almost wistfully. She flinched at the touch, and he pulled away instantly at her reaction, the strange detachment vanishing and being replaced with disgust and outrage.

Both stunned Belle, as they seemed emotions more due herself than him, but the words he spat made her blood run cold - and cemented the error in judgement she had made in coming here. It had already been much, much too late for reasoning.

“You dare to recoil from me?” he hissed, the mere elder gentleman facade sliding from his features at last and revealing the hideous green monster that did indeed resemble a crocodile with razor-sharp teeth to devour, much as Killian had always said. “When you…” his chest almost heaved with rage and indignation, “you let that cur touch you and you’re carrying his mongrel pup?”

Belle stumbled back aghast at the venom for her unborn child, as stung as if he had physically struck her. Her mind reeled at the hatred he could have for a mere fetus of no threat to him and completely innocent of any ill or wrong, and she stretched her hand in an impotent protective gesture across her midsection as she gasped and stared at the unrecognizable man before her, no longer anyone she had ever known.

“You think I don’t see what you’re about my ‘Beauty’?” he gave the fairy tale appellation an almost mocking sing-song cadence as he made up the distance she had backed away, bringing them close once again. “You came here thinking you could appeal to the poor spinner who once tried to please you, who hoped to be “good” enough to make you happy, only to spare that lot of foolish heroes, the one you’ve replaced me with, and that abomination you carry within you. Let’s be rid of that delusion now… No deal.” He spoke icily, reaching toward her as she shook her head ‘no’, pleading soundlessly as tears of shock and terror streamed down her face, “Rumple, please,” she whispered brokenly, “don’t come any closer.”

Gripping her arm so that she couldn’t back away again, his clutch like an iron shackle at her wrist, Rumple’s other hand rested on the growing swell of her stomach, just above hers that still tried to shield the gentle curve from his touch. “Perhaps,” he murmured silkily, the calm resolve of deadly intent even more appalling than the unhinged rage and hurt had been. “Perhaps I should provide a demonstration of just how little any of those things you treasure, that you would hope to preserve, matter to me in the face of receiving my due at last.”

Belle was still shaking her hand in denial, trying to pull away frantic with desperation to free herself. It was all to no avail though, as his palm contracted on her stomach briefly, pressing firmly for a horribly long moment, and then he turned and strode purposefully back to his compatriot, who had been watching the whole exchange with fiendish glee once it had turned in the Dark One’s favor - almost as if she were sated by despair and anguish.

The scene before her blurred then, the effect of whatever Rumple had done creating a slight delay before it hit her and brought Belle to her knees. Her vision swam, the ground below and sky above spinning dizzily and exchanging places. A horrible pulling, tightening ache expanded from behind her naval out through the rest of her body, until she was falling to her side and curling in upon herself, every inch of her pulsing with pain.

And then she was screaming in utter agony, knew she was but still unable to stop, as if even her own reactions were now out of her control. All she knew was that her surroundings continued to dim and focused mainly on Morgana and Rumple’s legs as they stood by the rising whirlpool the lake had become, clearly continuing with their ritual, her inconvenient interruption of no further consequence.

Just as everything was about to fade away from her, she heard the unmistakable long howl of a wolf on the night wind answering her tormented cry. For that one second, she wasn’t even sorry that Graham must have woken to find her gone and followed her. Her heart panged in recognition, hoping she could see him before everything went dark.  Her mind lamented brokenly on how foolish she had been to ever come here, and yet she waited on a held breath, still pained and terrified, but pricked more by conscience at the hurt her love would suffer if her rash actions had brought harm to their little one as well.

She knew Rumple and Morgana must have heard the warning cry as well, but her mind was too foggy and confused to focus on what they were doing from where she lay. All she saw, with grateful eyes, was a large, russet-colored wolf bursting from the brush above, near where she had been hiding not that long ago, and then plunging, teeth bared, to her side. Through her bleary, half-conscious perception, she found herself vaguely glad he was a wolf at that moment. It seemed so daunting, powerful - almost invincible to harm, even if not fully the case. True, both of these magic wielders he faced were powerful enough to be a threat to man or beast, but there was something solid, strong and intimidating, about the large lupine creature of old that Belle genuinely hoped would strike fear into the Dark One, down deep where he was still a coward at heart.

Once he reached the bottom of the slope, her wolf was at her side in seconds, a mere couple loping strides for the large animal’s ground-covering speed. Though his every quivering muscle was tensed and ready, his fur practically standing on end and a low growl rumbling constantly from the wide chest, the concern radiating off the man twined into the werewolf’s being was plain. Tawny golden eyes never left the witch and wizard before them, also braced for action - both sides seeming to gauge what the other might do - but his shaggy, reddish-brown ruffed head dipped briefly to nose at her forehead and brow, a cold, wet nose reviving her if just a bit. A concerned whine, so soft in the canine throat that Belle felt sure only she could hear it, let her know just how frightened for her he had been - and was still.

Trying valiantly, with pained and weakly uncoordinated muscles, she attempted to lift her hand and stroke his fur in reassurance, but her hand fell limp against the ground before making solid contact, and the tender way her wolf licked at the back of it resting on the dirt pained her almost as much as whatever Rumple had done to her. It was too late to stop the process they had set in motion, despite her efforts. She had tricked and hidden her intentions from him, and led Graham into danger anyway, even as she had tried to protect him from harm.

They both watched warily as Morgana turned back toward the churning body of water, lifting her hands and causing the eerily lit typhoon to rise above its banks in a menacing swirl, clearly reacting to her magical direction. “Isn’t that sweet?” Gold mocked, affording them one last cruel glance before holding up the cylinder as Morgana directed. Manic avarice lit his gaze as it turned indeed into the recognizable shape of a tall, pointed sorceror’s hat. “You will die here together, with your repulsive whelp. It was a heroic effort - foolhardy and pointless, but heroic nonetheless, dearies, I’ll give you that.”

Even as he turned back to his evil task, Graham appeared truly ready to spring and rip out the imp’s throat. The fact that one or the other of their enemies’ magic would no doubt strike him down before he could reach them, no longer seemed enough to hold the usually kind and gentle man back - not when his love and his unborn child’s lives were at stake. Belle looked up at him with tears in her eyes. If only she hadn’t thought she could handle this alone… If only she hadn’t been so stupid… If only...

Morgana’s resonant and chilling voice rose up over Rumple’s triumphant cackle of victory, her own soft sobs, Graham’s warning growl, and the whooshing of the rising waves towering over their heads now, chanting some incantation of what sounded like ancient rhyme. And then, before her spell could reach completion, everything seemed to happen at once.  Behind them, scrambling down the same embankment with more cursing and less grace, came Emma and Killian - the pirate surprisingly in human rather than wolf form. All the same, they were there, flanking she and Graham and eying their adversaries for just one chink or weakness. 

Belle wanted to stand to face them head on rather than lying in the dirt, but another blinding shock of pain ripped through her, curling her up even further and causing her to bite almost through her lip to merely whimper rather than scream in agony. Oddly, it struck her that even if they were too late to stop this ritual, if all of Rumple’s powers were unleashed again, they would still stand up to him together, and even if he took out the four - well, the five, of them her mind amended with a shudder - there were others on their side yet, and good would find a way. She had probably never sounded more like Snow or Henry, but somehow in this terrifying meeting with what might be their end, she somehow felt faith returning.

“Oh, how quaint,” Morgana simpered, “it’s the Savior herself and her own pirate knight.” She tilted her head slightly, as if considering them all like they were some sort of entertainment. With a dismissive gesture, she then levitated the cylindrical talisman, making it open and morph into the hat twirling in air. “You must know that you are too late to stop us, that soon you will be in the presence of an all-powerful Dark One, in the face of whom all attempts at resistance or control will be futile, and yet here you stand - as if it will do some good.”

As she spoke, the water crested even higher, towering over all their heads and the enchanted contents of the hat burst forth in multicolored light festooned across the sky above them like a new map of constellations.

Yet, in that unnatural glow, even as Rumple also laid the dagger on the ground beneath the levitating hat, making their preparations complete, a horrifying vision suddenly appeared before their eyes, not of Rumplestiltskin once more the cruelly green and glittering crocodile with sharp jaws wide to devour them, there is instead a terrible beauty. Morgana was the ultimate Dark One emblazoned with sudden clarity, silhouetted in unearthly flame as she reached out an unstoppable arm to crush them all. It was seconds from coming to pass, and suddenly Belle could see it unspooling with horrifying clarity. The sorceress, whatever her connection to Rumple, had never intended to aid him in cleaving himself from restraint. Instead, she meant to take his power for herself and full dominion over the realms as well. Just as her compatriot had needed the hat she could bring, she had needed his dagger to make her devious designs complete. This enchantress had somehow managed to convince the best manipulator Belle had ever known to believe she owed, or felt, some loyalty to him. Enough so that Rumplestiltskin had already laid down his jealously guarded weapon and protection in one at Morgana’s feet.

Without time to think, to plan, seemingly even to breathe, Belle knew what to do. It came to her with galvanizing certainty, a realization that rocked her to the core, even as the beams of power, like golden threads were streaming from dagger to hat to Rumple and back again over to Morgana as she chanted; a subtle, knowing gleam in her eyes now that the librarian was looking clearly.  The beams looped and re-circled back in and out between the four points of contact, both villains finally distracted by their greedy focus on the brilliant light magic and the tendrils of the dark as well, coming off of Gold and from the dagger itself, then rising in ghostly wisps to intertwine in a mantle that seemed to lie about Morgana’s shoulders.

Time moved as if strangely delayed as Belle lurched forward unsteadily, still unable to rise fully to her feet and run for her goal, still almost blinded by the pain centered in her abdomen, she soldiered on, almost rolling and then pulling herself the last few inches forward, sheerly on the desperate strength of her arms and shoulders.

Her fingertips barely grazed the now quivering hat, even as the magic seemed to sense the last strands of power from Rumple himself and the dagger, now centering over Morgana, and also to fully enliven the ancient token. Graham saw where she was going and pounced forward, practically leaping over her prone form to keep the witch away from her. Emma swung toward Gold with her own hands up, magic flickering to life between them to ward him off as well if need be. 

That proved unnecessary though, as Rumple cried out, an unearthly expression of rage, pain and bitterness when he discovered all too viscerally what Morgana had done and the extent of her betrayal. As the last vestiges of his power wreathed his former partner in crime, making her whole being glow insidiously, the hat sunk back to the ground, practically dancing upon the hard earth, shaking and moving so wildly from the amount of power thrumming between it and the Darkness’ new vessel - and it sought out more to drain from its surroundings.

“No!” the twisted imp wailed; no longer either smug pawnbroker nor controlling Dark One, but the poor, bent spinner so helpless and afraid of the world around him before magic had ever come into his life. “What have you done, you foul hag?! You’ll not even live to regret this.” Yet, even as he bellowed, his own self-maimed foot curled in again, his body bending weakly as he sought out the cane he needed not just as a dramatic embellishment any longer.

Gritting her teeth and exerting her last bit of strength, Belle managed to reach the tips of her fingers far enough to brush against the active hat. She was grasping at last chances, hoping against hope that she had timed her move correctly, that the villainess was too taken by the feeling of victory and the swell of power to notice a mere distraction as the last bits of both the Darkness and its magic settled upon her. Feeling the deceptively soft and inviting material of the hat’s wall, Belle bit her lip, said a hopeful prayer, and shoved the hat over to rest on its side, making sure to grasp the tip as she had seen detailed in her research, so that the opening, now seething as though it were a living and breathing thing, was pointed right at Morgana.

The sorceress’ unnaturally violet eyes landed on her then, widening in anger and zeroing in with a wicked shriek. “What are you doing, you measelly little girl? Haven’t you learned your lesson yet?” She made as if to stride forward and swipe the object from Belle’s grasp, but it was already too late. Belle had gotten the hat centered on their foe in time, and now Morgana was in its vortex, its sucking power already pulling at her robes and whipping her raven-dark hair about her head wildly, drawing her inexorably into itself.

“Nooooo…” the witch screeched, but she was already elongating in form, being swallowed up into the void of the Sorceror’s hat. Her final thwarted wail faded away slowly, even as Belle let her arms fall to the ground, nearly drained once more. But she couldn’t quite rest, no matter how much her body begged for it; they had to take this chance to be rid of the Darkness while they could - once and for all. 

The foreseeable immediate threat gone, she sensed almost as much as saw Graham shifting back into the man she loved, already calling her name as he ran to her side. Emma was closer, kneeling beside her and asking where she was hurt, what she could do, even as Killian still flanked them both, eyes sweeping the area as if waiting for more foes to descent. She could hear Rumple in the background, groaning and snivelling, but Belle struggled to focus just one minute more.

There! Right by Killian’s boot, near the once more nondescript looking pointed cloth hat lying calmly on the ground, was the dagger.  “Killian,” she gaped breathlessly. “The dagger, give it to me. Quick!”

Thankfully the pirate didn’t question her, merely bent, grabbed the item he had quested so long to hold in his hand, the means for his long postponed revenge at last in his grasp, and handed it over to her without even flinching.  It reiterated the difference between himself and his nemesis, Belle realized later when she thought back over the whole thing, how he could hand over the one thing he had once most desired due to the judgement that something else was better and worth the sacrifice. It was the same reason he had shown up as a human, even if his wolf was physically stronger. He wanted to support Emma, in whatever way would help her most, and so had done what allowed him to be most fully by her side. It was a sort of strength and power Rumplestiltskin had never mastered for all the magic he had held in his fingertips… the ability to share oneself fully with another and drawn strength from the bond.

Gripping the dagger’s hilt tightly, feeling the cool edges against her palm, the satisfying weight of it, now that it would finally be doing what it had been forged for, one way or another. She raised it as much as she could, and plunged the tip into the hat. Sharp steel sliced through material, piercing deep, and she waited, breath held tightly, the blade going all the way through both sides of the hat and into the ground beneath, until slowly, with a thick black cloud spewing forth before rising and evaporating into the sky, the hat disintegrated into nothingness itself. The hat was gone, and supposedly, hopefully, so was the Darkness at long last. Though it almost seemed to much to trust might finally be true after ages of battle to conquer it.

Tossing the weapon aside, Belle heaved a sigh of relief, glad she finally felt as if those around her, those she loved, were safe. As she did so however, the pain and the weakness crept back over her, making her vision swim sickly again.  Another violent throb of pain ratcheted through her, and she cried out in spite of herself, unprepared for the severity of it. She shivered, hardly registering that she felt as though she had gotten her legs in the water, even if that sensation made absolutely no sense.

“Belle!” she heard Graham’s hoarse tone call out to her in alarm, and then he was there, cradling her head and shoulder in his lap and begging Emma’s help; the only one of them who still had any sort of magic that might be able to fix whatever Rumple had done and was still wrecking havoc within her. It all seemed to be growing more distant and of less concern to her, as she let herself since back into her love’s comforting embrace. They were safe now, she thought, appeased from her own worry and self-recrimination with that knowledge. 

And then all was quiet.

Tagging a few who may enjoy: @kmomof4 @jennjenn615 @therooksshiningknight @gingerchangeling @laschatzi @spartanguard @resident-of-storybrooke @winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @darkcolinodonorgasm @ilovemesomekillianjones @revanmeetra87 @teamhook @whimsicallyenchantedrose @searchingwardrobes 

[on-the-catradora]

To All the Boys I've Loved Before Klance AU

K so last night I deadass stayed up so I could catch this movie drop at midnight (gotta support an Asian female lead in a rom com REPRESENT) and holy god it was so good? Like rom coms really aren't my thing, like all of the recent ones have been so cringy but this one was AMAZING. Fake dating? Good shit. Anyway I throughout the movie I was like SHIT this would be a hella good Klance AU so here's a quick outline for it.

Spoilers for To All the Boys I've Loved Before!

So Keith is a loner who likes to live more in books than in reality. He likes the idea of romance, but actually being in a relationship? Yeah no, he couldn't handle that. Not that anyone would ever be interested in him like that anyway. And there's the fact that he's gay, so there's a huge chance that most of his crushes don't swing that way.

And Keith does have crushes. He just never acts on them. Instead, he writes his crushes letters and then he moves on. He figures it's better than stewing on them forever. Still, he can't bring himself to get rid of them...

Keith lives with his single mom, (Krolia), his older brother Shiro, and younger sister Katie, who prefers Pidge (I know it's a little strange but I didn't know who else to play the lil sis)

Keith can't drive. He's gay. Gays can't drive. Science. (As a gay, I can confirm this science) (plot relevant)

Shiro has a boyfriend named Adam, who's great! Unfortunately, Keith thinks he's a little too great and accidentally develops a crush on him too. He gets a letter and Keith accepts the fact that Adam and Shiro were made for each other. Until Shiro decides to break up with Adam before Shiro goes of for college.

Everyone's shocked, including Keith. Keith manages to stay friends with Adam (Keith is a junior, Adam is a senior, Shiro is going to college) but it's kind of weird since Keith has some lingering feelings.

OH and the guys that Keith wrote the letters to were Rolo from camp, James Griffin from mock trial, Ryan Kinkade from homecoming, Lance McClain who was his first kiss during a game of spin the bottle, and Adam.

So it's the first day of school and Keith wears his fingerless gloves (they belonged to his dad, so he wears them when he needs to have some confidence)

He has a run in with Nyma, who he used to be friends with but she kind of ditched him when she found cooler friends. She's dating Lance, hottie of the school. She makes fun Keith's fingerless gloves before Lance drags her away to class.

Keith's best friend is Allura, who is super cool and leads her life in her own way. She gives Keith some very needed confidence.

Keith nearly runs over Lance while backing out if the parking lot. Keith dies a little. Pidge, who Keith is taking home, is not amused with his driving skills but is pretty interested in the boy. She's the only one who knows about Keith's letters, and decides that Keith needs a boyfriend so she decides to send the letters and hopes for the best (lmao in the movie the girl is like 11-12 so it's a little more believable)

The next day Lance comes up to Keith during PE and is like "yo I know we kissed once in the 7th grade but I don't think this is gonna work...Nyma and I just broke up-" and Keith is like W H A T and he sees the letter in his hand. And Keith freaks out and tries to explain that he wrote that years ago, but he gets interrupted by the sight of Adam making his way across the field, a letter in his hand. This freaks Keith out even MORE and he knows he needs to convince Adam that he doesn't like him and before he knows it he's kissing Lance. Adam is...confused enough to save the conversation for another day. Keith is relieved that that worked, until he realized SHIT HE KISSED LANCE so cue running away. Lance is v confused.

Keith runs to the bathroom, but before long he here's a knock on the stall, and a letter is slid underneath the door. It's Kinkade. Double shot. Luckily Kinkade is cool, he explains he's straight and Keith explains the whole situation. Kinkade promises not to tell anyone and Keith actually gains a friend from the experience (btw Kinkade danced with Keith at HoCo because he thought he looked lonely, he's a sweety)

Keith goes back home but FUCK Adam knocks on the door, so naturally Keith jumps off the roof and runs to his fave diner. (Diner is run by Coran)

Keith is sure he's safe, until Lance takes a seat beside him. Turns out, Lance had actually been looking for him. See Lance is still v confused and he was looking for some answers. Keith tells him a half truth, that he kissed him so that his brother's ex boyfriend wouldn't know that he had a crush on him. Lance is pretty stunned about the explanation but he's understanding. In fact he actually has an idea.

Lance offers this: he and Keith can fake date. Adam will think Keith doesn't have feelings for him, and Nyma will get jealous and want Lance back.

Keith is like FUCK NO. That's a horrible idea and decides it's best if he just sees where this could go. However, as he sleeps on it, the more he seems to think that it might actually be a good idea...

Keith, ever so blunt, marches up to Lance during his lacrosse practice and is like "aight let's do this" and Lance is like "sweet" and he kisses Keith right in front of the entire team. Great start for the rumors. And Keith is like "wOw oKaY iT's hApPeniNg"

Him and Lance set up ground rules. No more kissing, Lance is confused by that. Keith had to go to parties with Lance, and Keith is not happy about that. Keith makes an X-Files reference, which Lance doesn't get. Keith adds "watch X-Files to the contract" while Lance adds a movie of his own (idk what reference oof) and then Lance brings up The Ski Trip. Students go to a ski lodge every year, and it's notorious for hookups. If Lance brings Keith, they're FOR SURE dating. But that's a few months away? This whole thing will probably be over by then so there's no point anyway.

The school is SHOCKED to see them together. Including Adam. (He sees Lance as his lil bro so) And they've got everyone fooled, even their families.

Lance takes Keith to a party, and tells Keith to ditch the fingerless gloves (he doesn't want to hold hands with gloves all night) and so Keith gives them to Lance to hold. They take pics of each other for their lockscreen

Also Lance calls Keith Mullet, of course

At the party, Nyma is super jealous. She corners Lance in the bathroom and talks shit on Keith. Sure Lance wants to get back together with her, but he doesn't like the way she talks about Keith. She spots the gloves in Lance's pocket and makes sure to grab them when he's not looking.

Lance takes Keith home early, but the grab food at the diner. They have a pretty cute convo, until Keith reminds Lance that this is all fake. Lance gets upset and Keith begins to feel like he's actually falling for Lance. Lance gets over it and they grow closer and closer as the months go by

Along the way, they realize they have a lot in common, especially in family. Lance's mmo is pretty absent after she walked out on his dad, and Keith's dad died in a fire when he was pretty young. Both grieve together, but become closer because of it.

Before they know it, The Ski Trip is already here and on the trip, they reveal they like each other.

Everything seems great until Nyma talks to Keith, and mentions how cool it is that he didn't mind that her and Lance shared a room. And while she's doing that, she's wearing Keith's gloves. She notices him staring and she says that Lance gave them to her.

Now Keith is SAD and breaks things off with Lance, convinced that he's just another fuckboi

Oh my God this has gone so long but long story short THEY FALL IN LOVE IN THE END

Feel free to add things on? I left a lot of things out but yeah. This au is. Made for Klance. Also there's so much room to add in more characters like Hunk and Matt and the Earth squad

But yeah I love this movie ok

[vishers]

Understanding and Loving a Person With Bipolar Disorder (2018) by Stephen Arterburn, M.Ed. and Becky Lyke Brown, M.S. Review

★★★★★

Title, Subtitle, Preface, Introduction

Title: Understanding and Loving a Person With Bipolar Disorder

Subtitle: Biblical and Practical Wisdom to Build Empathy, Preserve Boundaries, and Show Compassion.

Loving a person with Bipolar Disorder presents unique challenges. It's uniquely challenging because its effects and patterns are non-obvious and 'invisible'. It's challenging because part of the disorder feels really good to the afflicted. It's challenging because there isn't a cure. It's challenging because being close to someone with the disorder can lead to broken boundaries and lack of self-care. And all of this is even more challenging because from the outside it doesn't look like the person is sick.

The hope of this book is to show you the path out of that mire into a place of hope even in the midst of the pain of the disorder. Practical methods for a variety of situations common to the disorder are outlined throughout the book. Beyond all else it's important to develop empathy towards your loved one, understanding that they're sick, not bad, preserve boundaries and exercise self-care so you can love as effectively as possible, and show compassion from a place of understanding so that your loved one feels loved and honored by you.

Table of Contents

The table of contents is unhelpful.

Index/Bibliography

There is no index or bibliography.

Publisher's Blurb

This book is about how to live with hope in the face of a degenerative illness.

Practical strategies are discussed for:

When to help and when to pull back

How to develop empathy and compassion for what your loved one is experiencing.

Expert advice on when and how to seek to treatment

Ideas for specific situations and relationships (like spouse, parent, child, friend, co-worker, etc.)

Help for how to do self-care and personal boundaries

This book is meant both as a technical resource and as a source of encouragement.

Notable Chapters and Statements

Your love for the person who suffers must always be balanced with a healthy love for your own needs.

p. 7

And as those in relationship with BD have discovered, there's ultimately no way to do everything "right" enough to compensate for the person with BD.

p. 8

The following is what is essential for life with BD:

****Boundaries**** allow you to continue to maintain the strength required to love in your relationship despite the challenges.

****Self-care**** is what builds your strength and vitality up so that you aren't bringing your own wounds as a problem to the situation.

****Letting Go**** is admitting that you aren't in control of the situation nor are you responsible for the persons care (assuming you're not the parent).

****Forgiveness**** is living in freedom from the hurt in your past, especially hurt that the person with BD has caused you because of your illness.

****Beginning The Journey**** is scary but it's the necessary first step. You have to seek treatment. You have to establish boundaries. You have to do research about BD. You have to begin to practice self-care.

pp. 10-17

Naming what was really going on was an opportunity to get help and move forward.

p. 17

Mental health issues interrupt our plans for a happy life.

p. 20

When you learn about the causes and origins of BD, you can embrace empathy for your loved one. Empathizing with their struggle instead of resisting their reality can be a great support connection for the relationship. It can also help you find what you need for support for yourself.

p. 35

A popular quote says, "Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle." The complete quote speaks to the strength of the battle. "This man beside us also has a hard fight with an unfavorable world, with strong temptations, with doubts and fears, with wounds of the past that have skinned over but that smart when they are touched. It is a fact, however surprising. And when this occurs to us, we are moved to deal kindly with him, to bid him be of good cheer, to let him understand that we are also fighting a battle; we are bound not to irritate him nor press hardly upon him nor help his lower self."

p. 48

Brené Brown, an author and researcher, says this regarding empathy: in order for us to connect with the other person, we have to connect with something inside ourselves that knows that same feeling. How difficult is this when we don't know what we feel or understand what they are feeling? Relationships, regardless of this diagnosis, can teach us more about ourselves, and empathy is one way we learn. When you are trying to share empathy and are unable to connect with a similar or same feeling as the other, it can be helpful to say, "I don't know how that feels; tell me more." And you don't need to fix the feeling —just be witness to it.

p. 49

Many times, people with BD think they don't need medicine, that the mood will pass and they will feel better. Others don't like the way the medicine makes them feel, so they refuse to take anything and suffer through life. It can be frustrating as you try to help them, and you may feel resentment, thinking, If only they would take their medicine, everything would be better. If your loved one is resistant to taking the medicine, rather than confronting them, encourage them to talk with their doctor about what they are experiencing and their resistance to taking the medicine. The person with BD is ultimately the one who will chose their course of treatment, which is good when the treatment is effective and frustrating and frightening when it is not.

p. 56

Non-compliance to any of the above interventions may also occur. Many suffer from the side effects, ineffectiveness, or simply "feeling flat" when taking medication to manage BD symptoms.

"I lost my creativity," said one client who decided to forgo ongoing medical treatment for her BD. She talked with her doctor about how she was unable to work as an artist because she relied on her "manic" phase, when many of her inspirations were the strongest. Her depressive cycles were short lived and managed with her counselor. She wasn't taking the medicine as prescribe, which created more side effects, such as physical illness, nausea, and the inability to drive. There were times when her depression was so deep she felt what has been called "the dark night of the soul." She lost her businesses, her home, and faced health issues through the years. However, she has re-created her life, is now employed, and has a sense of fulfillment in her family and life.

p. 60

In the midst of crisis, it is requisite that you have your own support system—family support, friends, a therapist of your own, and a small group—to help you navigate the confusion and hurt that can occur in your relationship. You must be able to ask for help. It isn't less "Christian" or less "loving" to ask for help or to set boundaries to protect yourself and ultimately the loved one who is battling this disorder.

p. 72

When we feel like we are being trampled over and disregarded, we don't feel loved. Creating boundaries for your own well-being and safety will create the best environment for love to flourish in the relationship. You don't love when you aren't fully present in a relationship because you've checked out to keep the peace. Failing to create healthy boundaries isn't loving. Love require presence, and sometimes that will mean you have boundaries that the other person wouldn't' choose. He or she may even rail against them. But just because the other person is protesting doesn't meant the boundaries aren't healthy. Maintaining them is hard, but it can be the most loving thing to do.

p. 74

What does it look like to love when the actions and behaviors of the person are unlovable? What does loving the person with BD look like? It may look like you are assisting with their treatment process. If they are resistant and combative, loving them may mean setting a boundary and letting them manage the care process on their own. Confusing as it may be, loving them might require letting them experience consequences instead of forcing your control in the situation.

p. 79

The biggest expression of love when dealing with BD is courage: not being afraid to ask the person what is wrong or if there is anything they need help with. It also requires courage to establish a boundary as an act of love. Saying no can feel very unloving but may be the most loving thing you can do, as many times people with BD can overwhelm the relationship.

p. 80

Do What You Can

Romans 12:18 reads, "Do all that you can to live in peace with everyone." It doesn't designate who "everyone" is. In The Message translation, it reads, "If you've got it in you, get along with everybody." This isn't a directive to be codependent; instead, it addresses the challenges we will all encounter with relationships of any kind. If you are struggling in your relationship with a person who has BD, living at peace with them may be having a good boundary. It may mean disconnecting, respecting their right to deal with the disorder in the way they so choose.

All relationships are teachers. Even when it seems that the relationship isn't "working" due to BD, you are able to learn about how others experience life. It can give you an opportunity to develop compassion, empathy, and perhaps stretch your patience so you can have more for others! We are all flawed, and some of us have a diagnosis that describes our experience of life. However we experience the world and those around us, we have the opportunity to learn from each encounter. We are exposed to our own weakness, strength, gifts, and talents as we interact with others. To try to avoid those whom we might think as too difficult, challenging, or even "imperfect" is to lose the opportunity to grow, learn, and become more aware of the needs around us.

Whether you are married to the person with BD, or whether they are a sibling, friend, or coworker, you will experience the pain of the illness, the relief of stability, and the depth of sorrow—maybe all in the same day. And you don't have the disorder! You will have to make decisions in your relationship to safeguard against unhealthy patterns and behaviors that can become "normal" in this unique relationship. If you are feeling like you are treading water more often than not in this relationship, it isn't working. That does not mean you just quit; as you know, it is not that easy. But you need to pay attention and take action ta address the issues.

Recognizing what you expected from the relationship, making peace with the fact they were not or cannot be the person you expect them to be, and forgiving them for the challenges you have experience as a result of the illness are the steps you need to follow. Begin to recognize some of the things in your relationship with them that you can be grateful for. If you have made the decision to move on, you can still recall some of the better days. If you remain in relationship with them, begin to develop a relationship based on who they are now, utilizing boundaries and self-care and accepting who they are and the gifts they have despite the challenges they face. Seek out support groups; create your support team, which might include a family member, counselor, trusted pastor, and close friend you can call any hour of the day or night. It is worth the effort it will take to make it work—whether you move on or stay in the relationship

pp. 113-115

You may be at a stopping point, feeling like there is nothing else that you can do and like you have completely run through your resources. If you feel that way, it is a pretty good indication that you need some self-care, respite, and time to recoup your energy. There will be a thousand reason you can provide for why you cannot do any self-care. If you are feeling this way and you don't know how to even start the process of self-care, begin with stepping out of the situation. It may be as simple as going for a walk around the block, or it could be more like you need to take the weekend and go check into a hotel for a good night's rest.

p. 116

Everyone is struggling with something. When you are in relationship with someone with BD, you may feel like the rest of the world is carefree and you are the only one facing this difficulty. This isn't a result of you not doing something right, not finding the right doctor or treatment center. This is part of the imperfect world we live in, and we all need help now and then. Make the choice to seek supportive relationships, to practice self-care daily, and to know when you cannot continue in the relationship any longer.

p. 119

What is Understanding and Loving a Person With Bipolar Disorder (2018) about, as a whole?

The book is about understanding what Bipolar Disorder is and how to love a person with Bipolar Disorder effectively while maintaining your own health.

What is being said in detail, and how?

The book establishes its credentials by accurately describe what living with and loving a person with BD is like in chapter 1. Chapter 2 is about BD specifically, what it's like to experience it, and what the various symptoms and types of it are. Chapter 3 is about how to build, maintain, and express empathy for your loved one. Chapter 4 is about finding treatment, especially about how to establish sensical expectations for how treatment will go and how much effort will be involved. Chapter 5 is about loving your loved one by loving yourself. Chapter 6 is a collection of specific situations and recommendations for each. Chapter 7 is how to figure out whether you're unable to keep going and strategies for emergency responses. Finally, chapter 8 is about how to find endurance for the long road ahead with many direct and personal words of encouragement to stay the course if you can.

[sketchysaniwa]

Halfway Saniwa (Ch.4)

Halfway Saniwa (Ch.4)

{Chapter 4: Speak Your Mind}

 <Japanese>

“English”

‘thoughts’

For the following 2 weeks Kaiita was brought into contact with the outside world; the new and digitally tangible one as well as beginning her introduction courses. Firstly, her studies of the Japanese language took the forefront along with her basic introduction to the Saniwa and the Grid of Transient Time Channels.  This was the system in which most of her power over her mission would be intimately integrated. It was late evening and Kaiita was sitting on the floor in a new room in a different wing of the E.S.C. HQ with a clear stylus brush hovering over a large plate on a low table.  She was practicing her hiragana and katanana, when Konnosuke came padding into the room. It was one of the rare times he ever left her side- but it was important due to the fact he was clarifying something that had arrived for her. “ Here it is!” he announced with no shortage of pride in his voice, which made Kaiita look up from her work. “Hm?” “Your ID and citizenship papers.” ‘Citizenship papers?’ this irked her eye brow with a bit of concern.  “But- I’m Canadian, right?” she agreed to joining their army- no one said anything about giving up her citizenship. Konnosuke shook his head and pushed the envelope he’d brought in closer to her.  “Of course you are, but since around a few years before the war began, everyone became a dual citizen of the planet or United Countries Sovereign.  It was a sign of the world’s unification under a common cause of restoration and collaboration. It is considered a sign of progress of this era, one of our finest achievements!“  Kaiita could only imagine what impact this had on immigration, but she had enough politics to worry about.  For now she took a look at her card which slid out smoothly into her open palm along with a small folder of documentation papers. Everything seemed to be in order; it signified her as Canadian in origin and alliance, and – sure enough- a dual citizen of the UCS. It showed her sex, height, weight, skin and natural hair color-… biological age? This was actually marked down as Early 20’s but then in brackets – unspecified. ‘Perhaps they couldn’t gauge exactly how long I was frozen for?’ There was that odd shudder again. Every time she encountered something that nailed it into her that she had lost everything, it left an unsettling weight in her stomach. It scared her. In some strange way perhaps Kaiita was still in denial. She was still refusing to admit what happened- even when staring at her own picture on the glassy surface of her ID card. “Ah! You’re rather good at this.” Konnosuke commented, having crossed behind the girl and now stood with his front paws sitting on top the table. He- it- they, where looking over her hand writing. “You think so? It can use some improvement, I think my hand shakes too much and makes some of the loops too small.” She replied placing the documents down beside the sheet of scribbled words. 

“ – Now you are officially in the roster of Saniwa , if you searched up your name, your basic stats will appear on a simple web browser search.” “W- what wait?! That’s public knowledge?!” she was joining the army- Not wanting to become an internet presence! “Hardly, “ Konnosuke said, holding out his paw in a gesture for her to calm down, “ It’s not what you think. Saniwa are privy to a lot more information than the common public. Your name will pop up in a basic search, but not your photograph, just a few simple details, that’s what’s available to the public, but as for specifics- if YOU- yourself looked up your name you would get a much more in-depth profile result. While other saniwa may have something in the middle- depending on what you wish to share. “ ‘I suppose that make sense’ she thought, “ If I wanted to search up allies or team mates I’d get a rough overview of a saniwa in question right?” “Exactly!” the fox confirmed.

“Now how about we do a few practice phrases- introduce yourself Kaiita-sama?” the fox situated himself across from her and Kaiita swerved around to face him with her text book on her lap. For the next 2 hours they went over basic phrases of introduction, some key situation things and words she could really use in emergencies before breaking for dinner. Japanese was a dense language, and she was having trouble remembering similar looking symbols. Kaiita only hoped with usage in real life the meanings would stick eventually. For now she could relax and eat her dinner- which was found down stairs in a cafeteria. 

What Kaiita eventually came to understand was the science and research wing- where she was originally kept, this was the main center. People came and went from all branches of the government in regards to the war on the world history. She saw people dressed in various military garb and regalia- and most of all- saniwa. It was easier to pick them out in fact- what she had initially felt with Keiko was a saniwas aura. A natural barrier or space in which their presence fills a space around them. Konnosuke explained that a saniwa  was a shorter word for sayaniwa which was originally what a purified site was called. Specifically it referred to a place where a deity was worshiped and its divine will was received- eventually this translated over to people who fulfilled a similar function, receiving the name of the location itself as a literal title. So like a shaman or a priest- but something a bit more intrinsically connected to ‘space’ itself. This space seemed to follow saniwa wherever they went. It was a core attribute of their powers. Kaiita wandered into the mess hall where a plethora of people milled about their business, grabbing a snack, taking a break or just passing through on their own business. What was so interesting, was the clash of old and new right before her eyes. People clearly dressed for battle, would don combinations of modern and ancient clothing! It was rather an interesting sight to see. It proved to her quickly that a saniwa could be literally- anyone! Men or women, adults and even children! CHILDREN! What sort of branch of an army hired children?!

 Kaiita gawked in the middle of eating her food at a girl standing no taller than maybe 4 feet ! She short brown hair brushed over one eye in the company of a man who… had pink hair? They also wore a very ornate and flashy golden kimono. In fact all those she could tell where saniwa were rare ever alone. They have an attendant of some sort at any given time usually. Kaiita couldn’t figure out who they were exactly, for now she had a lot to memorize simply in terms of how people got around now a day. From learning basic transit, language and customs, it was a lot to take in and get straight. At the very least people were not to unforgiving to someone who just didn’t get it right away- even more so- she wasn’t the only foreigner there. Not by a long shot.

As she bit into a piece of tuna she could see a blonde across the mess hall with the ugliest jacket she’d ever seen! He followed by a much more refined individual wearing a rather artistic attire and what she could tell was purple hair. Purple hair- so many colors. At least she guessed that about the future correctly- she imagined once upon a time a future where people could look however they wished- including normally impossible shades of hair. Another thing she did notice about every single saniwa’s attendant was each carried some kind of weapon on their person. Usually this weapon was some sort of Japanese blade. In fact- she could tell the difference between the types- because Konnosuke made her memorize them. The fox told her this was also very important to her line of work- which would become clear once the first initial hurdles of her training where done. 

‘One of the most important parts-‘they had said.

She must have mouthed that perhaps whilst eating for suddenly- “Hm? Did you say something Kaiita-sama?” the fox who had been eating some stuffed inari sushi- something she was surprised an synthetic organism was able to- was not looking at her. “Oh!” she put her chop sticks down a moment, sipping her tea to clear her throat. “I was actually wondering- about what you said regarding the study of swords.” She gestured to yet another saniwa who stood up across from another table, a small girl in a very flowery military attire following them with a ‘tantou’ on their hip made to follow. “Oh? You’re curious about them huh? Well worry not- your introduction to the toudan danshi is tomorrow.” They declared with an excited swish of their tail.  The fox pointed with a paw, “ –every saniwa as you can observe has a person following them yes? Those armored people are called toudan danshi. They are very important, to us, and to you. You’ll see, I am quite looking forward to this myself- I am curious who will be called to your side first!” “ -called? you mean, someone is going to volunteer? One of them?” she straightened up, watching them more closely- and for a moment she could have sworn she’d seen the SAME person pass by a second time. The one with the purple hair- but the saniwa they followed was different! Did they switch charges here too? “ Tommorow, Kaiita-sama, now that you have clearance to leave since your ID has arrived-… we shall be leaving this place. But not before you learn who and what toudan danshi are.” That made her stand up in shock- “ I’m leaving?!” So soon?! Or was it? Maybe she was just becoming used to this place… when did the time creep up? 

“Calm down- calm down- sit sit-  everything will be fine.” Konnosuke said once again doing their best to settle her down. And how could it not work- with those adorable paws waving at her? The girl resumed her seat and waited for her partner to explain. “ I understand you perhaps are nervous, but you need to go somewhere more… home-like. As much as I’m sure you have adjusted to this place, it is both part of your training, your job, but also as another positive contribution to your health. You need to go somewhere more domestic now. Your home, your citadel awaits. It waits for you to open the door to it and take shape. It’s going to be quite the sight- I know you’ll be happy there.”

Konnosuke sounded so sure- “I’m not so sure.” Kaiita blurted out. Realizing how rude it must have sounded- she apologized.  “ I mean- “ words died in her throat. How could she feel at home in such an alien place? As much as it was nice, wonderful even-..this wasn’t home. How could it ever be? It shamed her to think this way, but she was homesick. An irrational part of her felt guilty of some kind of betrayal, to simply replace her –home- with another. It was perfectly juvenile! As she mentally admonished herself the fox padded closer until they were nearly nose to nose- and Kaiita straightened up in surprise.

“….?” What did they want? Eventually the creatures face softened into an unmistakable smile.

“It is going to be okay Kaiita-sama. You will be fine. You can do this. You’re ready.” Convincing herself was one this- but hearing someone say that, with such conviction, was another. And it slammed hard in her chest- resulting in her shoulders feeling just a bit lighter.

[americannoteven]

When your hand slips on those keys

(Written for the one, true ship trash master, I figured it’s good to share this with anyone else who has the same taste in police trash as us so ey lmao and since I don’t have a proper account to be posting it on, y’all just have to deal with it here oh well)

Ship: Fallershipping (Officer Looker/Chief Anabel) --as if this isn’t obvious. Contains: Hardcore blushing and sweet hand holding. Yeah, we’re getting crazy tonight kiddos.

I haven’t written proper fanfiction in ages forgive me

__________________________________________________________________

Outside, the air held a steady coolness. Visible puffs of breath curling in the air before him, the officer was oddly enough rather warm and content. From behind him he could hear the music beat to life—nothing fast and energetic but smooth and melodic, easy listening as some call it, and Looker shrugged to himself that maybe the only reason he even bothered coming to these damn ballrooms anymore was solely for the live entertainment.

           Years ago, it would have been a far different story. A loved on in hand, together they'd twirl to the swinging beat of a snare and the flare of a trumpet, all the way to the soft and slow twinkling of piano keys. That was years ago. Over a decade even. Everything had been different back then. Looker, a mere young man at the time, had been a novice in his field. His eyes still burned with an innocent excitement back then that had since died out with years of trauma, heartbreak and failure on countless missions and cases. No more. He was not the same innocent young cadet he was years ago, even if the uniform snug to his frame was almost the same. Mentally, he traded far too much to get to where he was with in the International Police without much realization. A home, a life, a family, even. He was worn far too thin, and the mask the pain, he'd burrow himself deeper and deeper into his work. Physically, there wasn't much aside from a touch of aging and a kiss of exhaustion anymore. The same formal uniform that he had danced in years ago still fit (much to his amazement), but had since been decorated with a pair of golden-threaded chevrons on his right, mirroring the International Police Globe on his left. In all his years, Looker was still rather low in the grand scheme of ranks: the chevrons boring his status of a mere Senior Officer, a Field Agent, and a Detective all bundled into a single entity. He never minded his place. It was his duty. He wasn't restricted to a desk or stuck in meetings all the time. He was out in the open world where he wanted to be, even if it was dangerous. He got to throw himself out there and give his passion and will to protecting and fighting for others who couldn’t. That was the whole point, he wanted to make a difference, no matter how small or how big.

           Looker smiled at the thought, but perhaps it was just the alcohol sloshing slightly in his gut. Another breath curled in a white haze before him as he turned to head back inside, suddenly catching the eye of another figure passing though the door. He tensed in an automatic salute, "Chief!"

           The young woman shook her head as she walked, tossing a slender hand haphazardly though the air as he strode over beside him, "Looker, you know you don't need to be formal with me, right?" Her tone look a slight warmth to it; reassurance, even. It was common occurrence and by this point Anabel was quite used to it. Looker was a rather textbook kind of guy, and would grow rigid, ready to bow practically at anyone of authority, including herself. She worked to always try and let him be a bit more human during their meetings instead of a lifeless robot like the other officials had beaten into him, but old habits always died hard.

           Still, he was getting better. And as if on cue, he gave her a slightly flustered look and began, "Ah, I am sorry. It is of a habit, Chief!" Only now at realization, did his stone stature begin to crumble and his shoulders relaxed. He did this almost every time, and never once did Anabel get irritated. In fact, she found it rather endearing—not that she'd ever bring herself to admit it.

           Both of them now leaning against the edge of the balcony, on looking where the edge of bright city skyscrapers gave way to a dense and dark forest beyond, the young woman shivered, "Jeez, how long have you been out here, it's freezing!"

           Looker couldn't help but crack a slight smile in response, turning to meet her gaze, "I enjoy the cold weather, to be rather honest."

           "I mean, you're normally wearing your coat but still, it's—ah!" She shivered, unable to finish her thought, but it was still here. It was too cold for her. She longed for the tropical, warm weather that they were blessed to get in their time in the Alola region, much to Looker's disgust and dismay ("Ah, I am sorry but I am in need to turning up the power on the air-conditioner. It is far too warm for my liking."). Maybe if he didn't wear that heavily coat on an island.

           …Which made her realize after long had the words already left her lips, but… Looker wasn't wearing his signature coat. Instead, he donned the official International Police uniform just as she had. Suddenly she felt out of place. The rest of the women, officers of the law or not, graced the floor with stunning gowns and elegant beauty. They looked lovely, and so did the gentlemen, most of whom cloaked themselves in their formal uniforms just as Looker did. While she, personally, preferred the tattered, old coat over his shoulders, she couldn’t lie—he looked absolutely dashing.

           "…Chief?" Looker's concerned voice snapped her to attention. She blinked and gawked up at him with surprise. He stifled back a slightly laughter and suddenly she felt a strange awakening of Butterfree fluttering in her stomach. "I am sorry and you seemed rather deep in thought, but, uh, I figured I would ask…"

           There was a tint of flush playing on his cheeks, thankfully, to Looker, masked by the soft, dim light above them both. His voice faltered and trailed off, and while it wasn't unusual for his verbal hesitation, tonight it felt… different. He wasn't offering an alternate plan to a mission, he wasn't working on a criminal report with her—those were all work oriented tasks that required him to speak directly to authority. And while it more than plausible that the same hesitation overtook the veteran officer, it was more likely that Anabel was reading too far into it. She felt her face slowly grow warmer and warmer with each passing second and she silently blamed the half a glass of champagne she drank even though she was more than aware that wasn't the culprit behind this.

           Finally, Looker continued, "If… If it not too far out of line for myself to ask, heh… w-would you care to, erm… dance, Chief?"

           Anabel blinked and Looker felt himself extend a rough, usually study, but now shaky and skittish, hand in offering, a goofy grin playing on his lips. She could see him, even in the dim lighting. Oh…! The Butterfree now going rampant in her gut, her lips stretching to match his grin. Unbeknownst to her, Looker held the very same excitement in his stomach as well.

           "Hm… b-but…" She finally spoke up, both their smiles dropping with the soft words. Looker's mood shifted to eternal panic. But I'm higher rank than you. But people will say something. But it's unprofessional.

           Gods, why did I ever bother…

           Looker nearly dropped his hand but paused as he heard, "…But, I can't really dance…" A skittish confession on her part.

           He beamed once more, and stiffened his hand in a reformation of his offer, "…So?" His voice sounded smooth, sanded down to hide the cracks of fear and doubt before it even left his lips, "I am not too well myself, but… who cares? I can attempt to teach you… ah, if you would like!" The childish excitement resurfaced between them, as if nothing fell out of beat. A content, peaceful silence engulfed the two of them before Looker finally added more seriously, "Besides, if you are cold, Chief, it is wise to bring you back inside where it is warm. I would rather upset if you were to get sick because of me."            

           There he went, being his over-protective self again. Normally, she'd turn the attitude to match his, telling him to get inside and not catch a cold as well. But she merely sighed. It was a fun night, even if she did come alone. One night of doting over this foolish man's safety and just having a good time would be allowed. She laughed and accepted his hand, slender smooth gloved fingers intertwined with large, rough ones. Looker moved to head back inside but stopped when he felt the tug of Anabel having stayed rooted where she was. In response to his confused expression, she merely shrugged lightly, the lopsided smile still residing on her lips, "To be honest Looker, I'm not even really cold anymore."

[greaterthannine-blog]

Autumn Spring Sprigs

Autumn is around the corner, and all the labels (well almost all) are at last releasing their autumn collections. I know many people on the internets are overly fond of the cool, crisp season, but past years overflowing with (in my opinion) nasty, mega-hyped-up Pumpkin Spice everything under-the-sun, and retail stores being filled to the brim with tacky and bulky scarves, poorly constructed sweaters, black cotton leggings and faux shearling lined boots typically have me puking a little simply thinking of what the red, orange and yellow leaves will bring. 

However, this year is a tad different.

When faced with the latter half of the year, I would undeniably choose to skip autumn entirely. But, this season is unique amongst past ones, and that is because one of my favorite brands has pulled quite the rabbit out of the hat. And for a label to persuade me to be minutely interested, let alone twittering in anticipation, for the coming autumn weather… Well. Let’s just say that is no easy task.

Now, this banging brand I am speaking of is none other than & Other Stories. I adore this company; their branding is incredible and their designs are impeccable and affordable. Not only do they reinvent classic pieces with a modern yet nostalgic persona, but the manner in which they are presented is unparalleled. Fabrics used are both bold and subtle; the shapes they drape are radiant; and any piece or ensemble produced is undoubtably ravishing on anyone. 

Given how I go gooey-eyed for practically anything from & Other Stories, I should probably mention why their latest release has me so uncharacteristically drooling for autumn.

Generally, autumn color palettes are unappealing to me. There’s just something about warm and syrupy reds, oranges and browns that unsettles me. Although that reaction may be due to my association of autumn with school and an abundance of common autumn “styles” I always see prancing around on obnoxious prepubescents.  Anyway, & Other Stories’ autumn pieces have me happy as a clam because instead of an autumn collection, they have essentially released a S/S [inspired] line for the fall! Ingenious. 

I mean, why have autumn when you can simply bypass the whole thing and jump right into spring again?! It’s perfect! And I love it. Why hasn’t this happened before?!

Well, that’s not quite what happened, but it’s still amazing besides. What & Other Stories has done is undeniably noteworthy in my book; they’ve used prints and fabrics with cheerier and colorful dyes that still fit an autumn atmosphere. They also have an arguably spunky spritz, but are featured on styles for cooling temperatures as one would expect. And as with anything made by the Paris, LA & Stockholm atelier, you can dress these pieces up, down or simply leave them as is and you will still look as lovely as Maria in the dress that Anita crafted for the neighborhood dance.

Note: The pieces featured in their respective categories are not listed in any particular order of favoritism; I love them all equally!

Dress on the Daily

While I did rage on about the prints earlier, I find that my favorite dresses from the & Other Stories fall release were frilly, flowy solids. I do love a good subtle frill; frills that are frivolously frilly are far too frilly to be fun (Boom. Admire that alliteration. It doth do me proud).

Layered Frill Dress in Black (link)

Wrap Dress in Red (link)

Frilled Dress in Orange (link)

Satin Frill Dress in Black (link)

Jackets for Joy

Yes, I know I know, these jackets don't look like S/S wear whatsoever. However, this is acceptable because, if there is one F/W necessity that I do in fact adore, it is outerwear. So even if these aren't light and bright and airy, I still melt over the prints of the first three jackets and pine for the furred collar of the fourth. 

Wool & Mohair Blend Long Coat in Green Tweed (link)

Floral Velvet Jacket (link)

Wool-Blend Coat in Mole Dark (link)

Faux Leather Jacket (link)

Topsy Turvy

It is now known that I overall do not like the autumn season, but that is mostly due to the mainstream general populace. Yet, two of my other frigid-weather staples (that I actually enjoy) are sweaters and blouses, and these ones exhibit a S/S feel with their whimsical twists to autumn styles. Yes, blouses are traditionally worn in warmer weather, especially the poofy and weightless ones I love (but I am the S/S enthusiast after all), and plus if you simply pop on a spiffy snazzy overcoat like the ones I shared above, well... You have yourself a bangin' autumn outfit.

Peplum Blouse in Car Print / Yellow (link)

Chenille Sweater in Pink (link)

Ruffles and Ribbed Turtleneck in White (link)

Frill Blouse in Blue (is it just me or does it plainly look purple?) (link)

Pantalons Parfait

This was initially going to be "Bountiful Bottoms" to include skirts and shorts, but if it is to be cooler, as autumn would entail, we can't wear shorts or mini skirts or else we'll freeze our actual bottoms off. I also find that I typically don't wear skirts... I've never been exceptionally fond of them and have prefer to dress more tomboy-ish-ly. Therefore, behold an awesome array of trousers and denim!

Leo Trousers (link)

Cropped Flared Denim Jeans in Blue (link)

Pleated Trousers in Black (link)

Straight Denim Jeans in Blue (although the drop-down for color does make it a tad difficult to determine which "Blue" you want to choose; just a heads up) (link)

Acceptable Accessories

These accessories are actually amazing as opposed to "acceptable" (I just thought it neat how both words begin with the letters A-C-C-E, so it was just a cleverer move at alliteration which I love). I did include a scarf, but it is a silk scarf rather than one of those nasty, bulky, tacky scarves with gross prints you find all over people with inept taste. This scarf is more elegant and is used for a little neck tie, headband or hair tie and is therefore, well you know *shrug,* acceptable.

The shoes are a couple items that really exude the S/S vibes of this release, and while there is the potential to freeze your feet... Fashion is pain? No, it's autumn, not the arctic circle; it's crisp not frigid, so it may be a bit nippy around your feet, but you'll look exquisite so it doesn't matter.

Mini Car Silk Scarf (link)

Suede Lace Up Sandalettes in Burgundy (link)

Leather Ballet Flats in Powder Pink (link)

Saddle Stitch Leather Shoulder Bag in Navy (link)

 Another Note: All images featured on this post were sourced from their respective piece's page from the & Other Stories online shop. The collage style cover art as well as pink paint splotches and lettering was later created/added using Adobe Photoshop CC.