#but I guess it all comes down to whether he's trying to look glamorous or freak people out

[sadrockandwaltzes]

Bill!

[archiveikemen]

'Secret In Your Heart' Collection Event

William Rex

I do not own any of the Ikemen Series content being uploaded on this blog, everything belongs to CYBIRD. Please support them by playing their games and buying stories. Not 100% accurate, expect mistakes.

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A party was to be held at the palace and many important members of high society were invited, making it an opportunity to interact with prominent political figures.

While playing with my hair on the bed, Will told me that he was invited.

William: Such events only look glamorous on the surface. But under that facade, they’re a mix of love, hatred, and plots.

William: I’m worried about whether you’ll be able to survive.

Kate: You will also be in danger, right?

Kate: In that case, I don't have the option to refuse attendance.

William: … Fufu, you’re a brave knight.

Kate: I can’t allow anyone to steal my precious King away from me.

…

And that’s why I attended the party on high alert.

I paid close attention to the hidden motives behind the peaceful conversations around me, while maintaining a smile on my face.

Sharp-Eyed Gentleman: Earl Rex — you should take good care of your valuables.

William: … Thank you for the piece of advice. May you not lose anything as well.

Will exchanged words with a gentleman who approached him while passing by.

The gentleman walked away after shooting as a meaningful glance, Will then leaned towards me and whispered in my ear.

William: Do you understand what he meant?

Kate: … I’m guessing that he meant “if we let our guards down, both of us will have something precious to us stolen”.

William: You’ve gotten better at understanding irony. Your answer is mostly correct.

William: However… this matter concerns someone else.

Kate: Huh…?

William: What do you think is precious to me?

(Something precious to Will…)

Kate: … Freedom?

William: … Pfft, ahahaha

William: Indeed, you’re right, Kate.

William: Keep an eye on me so my freedom won't be taken away.

(My response was probably… incorrect.)

(What could be “valuable” to William…? He’s not the type of person who gets attached to material things.)

While I was deep in thought about it, there was some bustling coming from the table a little distance away from us.

(What?)

I reflexively hid Will behind my back.

Sharp-Eyed Gentleman: Ugh, Urgh…!?

The gentleman suddenly turned pale and left the venue.

Kate: … What’s going on?

William: Now…

William: Do you see what he "left behind"?

…

Kate: Sigh… I’m glad nothing happened in the end.

A sudden wave of tiredness washed over me when we returned to the castle, and I plopped myself down onto the bed.

William: Yeah. “Nothing happened”, indeed.

(... Hm?)

Kate: Are you trying to imply something?

William: … I forgot how sharp your instincts have become.

Kate: What is it? Did something actually happen?

William: Nothing. All I did was protect what’s precious to me.

Kate: Protect…? Are you saying that something was targeted?

William: Yeah. My adorable, lovely, shield.

Kate: … Me?

William: You should be prouder of yourself than this, Kate.

William: Whenever you hear the question “what’s precious to me (William)”, your immediate answer should be that it’s you.

Kate: What do mean by… I was being targeted? When? By who?

William: The man who told me to “take care of my valuables”.

William: For quite some time, he’s been going around expressing his displeasure about me being in Her Majesty’s favour.

Kate: Then why did he turn pale and leave in a hurry…?

William: When he passed by, I did a little something to the glass he was holding.

(Wha…)

William: Ah, it's nothing that will put his life in danger.

William: However, because he left in the middle of an important party, he lost his reputation.

Will made an unbelievable revelation.

(I thought that I was protecting him… but he was actually protecting me.)

Moreover, he went as far as to spike that man’s drink with some drug without even laying a finger on him.

William: Haven't I told you before that I will protect you from anyone and anything that targets “you”?

William: I played a little prank on the fool who objectified my lover and so carelessly declared that he wanted to steal her from me.

I was happy to know that he was protecting me from harm.

It could've been fatal if he were to make a mistake in the drug dosage, what he did was so extreme… but it was easy to brush off that guilt.

Kate: You did that without it being part of an official mission… won’t you be in trouble if it's found out that you were the culprit?

There was a flame of mischief burning in Will’s red eyes—

William: Yeah. That’s why the truth is a secret between us.

He held an index finger over his lips with a bewitching smile.

Kate: … You’re evil.

William: What, you didn't already know?

I couldn't contain my laughter at his total lack of remorse.

Kate: Fufu, I knew.

Kate: Thank you for protecting me, Will.

William: Shhh… I told you it’s a secret.

Kate: No one but you can hear me right now. … Should I say that even louder?

William: … And if I choose to take that as you’re indirectly asking for a kiss?

Instead of giving him a verbal response, I put my arms around his neck.

And everything that happened afterwards was a secret between the two of us.

[unityghost]

Applied Knowledge

Some more Post-Asmodeus Sabriel Feels content (part 31) for those who are still inclined to read, even if Supernatural is over. I’ll have to find a way to organize and tag this stuff on here; Archive of Our Own has it all organized chronologically. Thanks if you’ve stuck around up until this point! I don’t plan on stopping any time soon.

Logic told Gabriel that there was no reason to expect a linear recovery, and yet he found himself expecting it to work that way no matter the dictates of rational thinking.

The relationship between his near-humanity and his somewhat-angelness was a constant source of confusion to Gabriel - and everybody around him - but it seemed that Sam had recently come to the conclusion that a working knowledge of human biology might be helpful in the short term.

“When you breathe in,” he explained, “It activates the sympathetic nervous system. Gets your adrenaline going a little. So - ”

“I have no sympathy for my nervous system,” Gabriel interjected.

“ - the important part,” Sam went on, ignoring the comment he’d probably expected, “Is to focus on your exhalation, which initiates something different - other hormones - to calm you down. So it’s best to take that nice and slow. That's your parasympathetic nervous system.”

“Activate parachute, got it. Free-falling becomes smooth coasting through a cloudless summer sky.”

“If that’s what helps you remember it,” said Sam, “Then yes, Gabriel. Pull open the parachute.”

“Listen," Gabriel told him, "I’m pretty sure we’ve talked about deep breathing before, and I suck at it.”

“I thought it might help to get more specific about what happens when you do it, so that you know why it’s helpful. It helped me to learn about that. A lot happens to the human body when it gets like …” He gestured vaguely to what was in front of him: Gabriel, still trembling from the taste of a nightmare at the back of his throat as sweat coursed down his neck and both fists spontaneously clenched and unclenched against the tangled blankets. “This.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I don’t have a human body, then,” Gabriel replied. “Otherwise I might be a mess.”

Sam tried to smile. “Do you - ”

“No. No, I don’t really want to talk about it. I’m sorry for getting you out of bed. It’s just that I thought - ” Gabriel shook his head and looked down at the bedcovers clutched between his fingers. “I was so freakin’ tired when I fell asleep that I was dreaming about being tired, Sam. Kept trying to get up off the floor of that cell and find you, but Asmodeus wouldn’t let me, and I was too exhausted to pull myself to my feet.”

Sam nodded. Perhaps there was more physiology to be expounded upon with regard to the liminal space before waking waking, the crack in between that allowed for bewildered shouts for assistance, but Sam was tactful enough to withhold any further lectures.

“So I thought,” Gabriel continued, determined to complete his explanation, “That Asmodeus was in the room. I really did.”

He looked around. He couldn’t help it. He knew it was foolish, but it seemed even more foolish not to check.

Sam frowned at him.

“I was admiring the architecture,” Gabriel offered. “I’ve grown excruciatingly fond of this glamorized speakeasy you call a home.”

“Okay. I guess that's ... good. You want anything? Water, maybe?”

Gabriel turned his gaze downward again, debating whether to ask Sam to shift his weight so that Gabriel could properly pull the covers over himself. He decided against it: if he asked Sam to move, Sam might either take offense or understand the request to mean “leave and shut the door behind you.”

“Christmas crackers!” Gabriel hissed, pounding a fist against his own knee.

Sam looked horrified. “What are you doing? Gabriel, what's wrong?"

“I - ” Gabriel tried to remember what Sam had said about breathing - parachutes, right - and tried to exhale, then realized he couldn’t exhale without first exciting himself by inhaling, and came to the conclusion that the entire process was a self-defeating hoax. “I understand exactly what’s going on.”

“What? Going on with what?” When Gabriel didn’t answer, Sam pressed: “Has something been hurting, and you just figured it out, or - ”

“Geez, you really are in doctor mode tonight, aren’t you? I meant I know that I’m not in danger.”

Sam furrowed his brow. "Is that not good?"

“What isn’t good is that I’ve known that for months now!”

“I’m still not - ”

“What use is there in trying to convince myself that Asmodeus is gone when I still feel like he’s next to me or waiting for me or on top of me or - I’m starting to wonder if it’s worth the amount of effort I put into it every day!”

“I don’t think it’s that weird that you’d have a hard time finding common ground between what you know and what you feel,” said Sam.

“I didn’t say it was weird. I said it was pointless. Unless maybe I’m not trying hard enough; but man - I’ve been giving this everything I have in me.”

“It really hasn’t been that long, you know,” Sam reminded him. “You were in Hell for a lot longer than you’ve been with us.”

“So it’s going to take another truckload of centuries to bridge the gaping maw between what you’ve taught me and what he did to me?”

Sam spoke carefully. “I didn’t mean that. I was just trying to say that if you really want to focus on being rational, you’ve gotta factor in that imbalance. The time you spent in prison versus the time you’d had without Asmodeus manhandling you - that’s not a fair fight, so try not to be so rough on yourself about it.”

“Except,” Gabriel pointed out, feeling his chest tighten against Sam's audacious refusal to acknowledge Gabriel’s failure, “There was no gap when I had him breathing down my neck. I knew I was in danger and I felt that way, too. It wasn’t unreasonable to be cowering on the floor. Things are different now - I know there’s nothing to be afraid of, but my whole alarm system has short-circuited.”

“Yeah,” said Sam. “That’s usually how it works.”

Gabriel clenched his jaw and mangled the sheets in his fists again. “This isn’t funny.”

“What? Of course not. I know that.”

“Then stop talking to me like I’m a cute idiot, Sam. I don’t care how typical any of my behavior is; I want it to stop and you’re hearing something completely different. Just because you’ve got the knowledge and wisdom to smile and nod like I’m learning to walk for the first time - ‘Oh, look at this; it’s okay, we know he’ll stop falling even if he doesn’t know that yet’ - doesn’t make this any less exhausting for me.”

Sam looked bewildered. “I wasn’t laughing at you. I was trying to help. To remind you that - ”

“Shut up, okay? I know. I know. And that’s what makes it so difficult.”

“I just thought it might help you to know you’re not out of the ordinary for feeling the way you do - you know? I figure it’d only make me feel worse if I thought I was the only person to get stuck in the middle of what I knew was true and what I felt was real. I feel that way all the time. I’m not trying to preach to you. Or laugh at you. Why would I do that? I’m hardly in a position to brag about healthy recovery, am I?”

“Now you’re pleading!” Gabriel snapped. “I don’t want to feel like I hurt your feelings in addition to everything else!”

“Look,” Sam pleaded, because he was guilty of exactly that, “You and I are on a level playing field.”

“It sounds like you think you’re better than me.”

“Why would you even - I don’t think that at all, Gabriel.”

Gabriel pounded his knees again, thinking about the nightmare still sitting inside of him, exactly as real as the pain that resulted from hitting himself. “Well, you are, so maybe I shouldn't bitch about it.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Sam reached out and caught Gabriel’s fist before he could repeat the childish self-beating, the goal of which Gabriel felt might become clearer with each blow. “I wasn’t trying to prove anything. Maybe I said it the wrong way, but I really, really, truly, honestly meant that it’s normal to feel stuck like this. To know what’s the matter with you, to know what’s real, and to feel something totally opposite. I feel that way every day, Gabriel. And I definitely wasn’t trying to make light of it. If it came across that way then I’m sorry. I really am.”

“Oh, don’t be.” Gabriel tried to extricate his fist and Sam let him go. He thought about hitting himself again, but it seemed ungracious after Sam had made the choice to trust him with his own hands.

Sam’s voice softened. “Listen, Gabriel: you really need to sleep. I think that’s part of what’s got you so on edge.”

Gabriel almost said, Oh, is the baby getting cranky again? Let’s put him down for his nap but instead replied, “Or maybe it’s the quality of the sleep itself. I mean, if nightmares were the only issue, that’d make sense - I could figure that out. Maybe. But it’s the fact that my whole body is just flooded with the stuff.”

“That ... um ... feeling you get?” Sam asked.

Gabriel understood his hesitance, knew that Sam had never been able to comprehend what this “feeling” was - but perhaps that was simply due to Gabriel’s ineloquence. He had used adjectives like “dark” and “warped” to describe the tang that this feeling cast upon the world, had tried to articulate the deeply visceral flavor of ethereal horror that wrenched him out of the present and cradled him in the greasy jaws of memory.

Words, however, could not give shape to this feeling, even when Gabriel drew upon all his lifetimes of speech and his countless languages to try and force the feeling's essence into description. Yet it could not be coerced into the confines of vocabulary; it could only be felt, and only disgorged in the small horrible ways with which his near-mortal body was familiar: sweating; trembling; desperate, incessant vomiting when the terror would not abate.

In fact, Gabriel was convinced that this dark, otherworldly sensation probably was suggestive of neurosis unique to him. After all, Sam had never assured him of its normalcy. Maybe it was particular to angels, although he wasn’t sure he wanted to question Castiel about it. More likely, it was a symptom of the grotesque wrongness that had metastasized in Gabriel the moment Asmodeus first laid hands on him.

“Hey.” Sam touched his arm. “You all right?”

“Yes,” Gabriel answered hoarsely. “But that isn’t how I feel.”

“Nightmare still on your mind?”

“No. I … I don’t know.” Gabriel licked his lips. “Maybe I don’t really understand as much as I like to believe I do. Sam - ” He tried to meet Sam’s eyes but Sam was still clutching his arm. He didn’t mind if Sam touched him, or if Sam wanted to make eye contact, but in general Gabriel wasn’t willing to do both at the same time. “You don’t think I’m disgusting, right?”

“What? No. Of course not.”

“Okay, but I do. I think that I’m disgusting, and I also feel like I’m disgusting. Like - in the way that maggots crawling over a decomposing body is disgusting. It’s not the corpse’s fault for rotting and it’s not the bugs’ fault that they feed on it. It’s just disgusting for what it is.”

Sam recoiled, and Gabriel jerked his head up. I was right.

Sam’s features had taken on the flush of anger. “I don’t like that at all.”

“Neither do I! What, you think I was just spouting a poetic monologue? It’s what I see, Sam. It’s what I feel.”

“But that’s just … Jesus. You’re not like that. That’s a horrible thing to say about yourself.”

“Then I’m sorry I said it! Look, you’re proving my point!”

“That’s just such a - look - ” Sam closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“Pull the parachute, Sam,” said Gabriel, trying to ignore how fast his heart was pounding in response to the irritation in Sam’s face.

Sam opened his eyes. “Gabriel, I know you feel like you’re tainted or - or just bad, or whatever, but I hate to hear you talk about yourself like that.”

“Well, how am I supposed to believe it isn’t true? Based on what happened to me in Hell, I’m probably not that far off.”

“You are, though.”

“I’m not, though.”

Sam stood up.

Gabriel scrambled backward, slamming into the wall and toppling the pillow from the lip of the mattress to the floor. He had a split second’s regret - I could have used that for protection - and then several moments of quiet waiting, moments in which he was not sure what he did, moments in which he heard nothing and saw only darkness.

Then he heard his name, repeated gently over and over; he remembered where he was, and realized - with a spasm of humiliation - that what had felt like minutes probably had not been more than a few seconds. Both arms were thrown over his head as a makeshift shield - a fortress that had never proven effective against his attackers.

With arthritic slowness, Gabriel unfolded himself.

“It’s okay,” Sam whispered. “It’s okay. There we go. It’s okay. It’s all right, Gabriel; it’s all right.”

Gabriel nodded. He did not look at Sam.

Sam held out a hand, uncertain. “I’m sorry. I got a little - ”

“It’s fine.” But Gabriel was suddenly overtaken by such a violent urge to cry that he lay back down, bereft of the pillow, and turned away. “I just - ”

Sam waited.

“I forgot to activate my parachute,” Gabriel finished, and crushed his teeth together against a sob that jerked out of him like a seizure.

“Ah - ” Sam sounded shocked and unsure. “Oh man. I’m sorry.”

Gabriel knew that he was. It would only serve to make Sam feel worse if Gabriel were to vocally lament that he was terrified of giving voice to his deepest despair lest Sam lash out. Even if it was due to helplessness or to fury toward Asmodeus, Gabriel couldn’t handle that level of fire in Sam.

"Here, let's just - let me, um - " Sam tucked the blankets around Gabriel's shoulders, taking caution not to actually touch him. Gabriel had come to suspect that Sam felt most at ease in conveying affection, remorse, and protectiveness through some sort of physical contact. Gabriel often made this challenging for Sam. In fact, he reflected as he felt Sam draw away, why should he feel entitled to refuse Sam the small comfort of touching him when Gabriel was the one at fault for misinterpreting a benign gesture of frustration - especially given that the gesture was in response to Gabriel’s complaining about his poor self-image?

“Listen,” Sam said quietly. “Listen, Gabe - I won’t leave, but I’m gonna give you a couple minutes to calm down. I’m here, but I’m not going to hurt you, Gabriel.”

In the aftermath of the imagined assault, Gabriel was shaking. He listened to his own ragged breathing as he would have listened to a familiar much-hated song that played only because he was too unintelligent to find the appropriate dial to turn it off, while somebody else was forced to pretend it didn’t grate on their nerves and politely wait for the closing notes.

After a few moments, the surge of fear began to soften and the bedroom grew more solid to him. He debated the benefits and disadvantages of trying to halt his tears. Ultimately, he decided, it wasn’t a question of positives and negatives: there was simply not much use in pretending that Sam would have judged him after seeing it happen so often. The impulse to stoicism was there, as it always was - a costume with no remaining elasticity.

“I know,” Gabriel muttered into the damp sheet.

“Huh?”

He turned over, looking up at Sam. “I know that you’re not gonna do anything to try and mess with me. I really - I do. I know that.”

“That’s good.”

“If I could show you as much, I would. Instead you’ve got me whining about my self-indulgent hatred of - ” But Gabriel stopped, afraid to annoy Sam with additional descriptions of (as he’d considered saying) “this cosmic garbage that’s only ever been good for playtime in Hell.”

"That's all right," said Sam, although he looked pale and haunted. "Don't worry about it, Gabriel. Really. Just take it easy."

“You can touch me,” Gabriel offered. “If you - I’m sorry.”

Sam shook his head. “You don’t gotta make anything up to me, Gabriel.”

“I don’t want to get in trouble.” Gabriel gave a tight, nervous laugh. “If you want to, you can.”

“No. No, it's okay. Wait - if I say no, are you going to take that to mean I just think you’re gross?”

“I'm not sure."

“All right. Okay. Well, what do you want?” When Gabriel tensed - he loathed the question, abhorred the word - Sam corrected himself: “What do you need right now?”

“I’m not sure," Gabriel repeated. "I just know I’m sorry for freaking out.”

“Come on, you didn’t do anything wrong. Look, you know me pretty well, I think - and - well, hearing stuff like that can be rough because I want to change it. That’s all. It’s not your fault Asmodeus was such a piece of work.”

“I need to be more careful.” Gabriel smiled, fitfully, feeling delusional and uneven. He didn’t know whether he wanted to come across as serious. “One of these days you might actually get real pissed off. And whatever happens, I’ll have to take responsibility for not being able to control myself.”

Sam’s eye twitched. “Don’t say things like that.”

“Fine. I won’t. I’ll think them, but I won’t say them.” Gabriel was beginning to wonder if he was being difficult on purpose. “I don’t want to upset you; I don’t want to make you angry at anyone; I don’t want to make you sad when I’m afraid of you.”

“Stop.” Helplessly, Sam reached out and grabbed his hand. “You can say whatever you like, Gabriel. I just wish I could help.”

“Hey, you are helping. Like I mentioned, I at least know where I am. I know I’m not actually in danger.”

Sam gave a tired smile. “That isn’t what you just said.”

“Well - then I’m not sure what’s wrong with me. There are things I do know, and things I should know. Maybe I’ve actually lost my whole-ass mind. I believe you, I think. I believe you don’t want to hurt me. I just don’t - I guess I figure that might change.”

“But why?”

“Why wouldn’t it?”

“Because it’s me, Gabriel. It's Sam. It's not Asmodeus.”

"Yes! And yet here we are!"

Sam gripped his hand more firmly. “But that’s okay.”

“It really isn’t. I need to be able to connect the dots better. For my sake, maybe, but for yours too. I need to understand things better. I need to be able to apply what I learn. Looks like I’m screwing up both parts of that process.”

“You need more time. Maybe a lot more time.”

“I’ve had time!"

“Some. Like I said, you had a whole lot more time with him than you’ve had with any of us.”

“I just - ah - I - ” Gabriel wiped his eyes. “I’d just really like it to stop. I could do without the nightmares and without being scared of you or anyone else. And without feeling like a diseased animal stinking up the place. I hate it. I want it to end. I’m confused about what to believe and what to feel and how to act. I don’t want to hurt you and I don’t want you to hurt me but I - but I’m this thing, this nauseating, awful thing that he - that - and I can’t keep doing this because it’s too much for me. I can’t handle it. I can’t handle knowing it’ll probably take another eon before I’m not running away from you, and by then you won’t even be here. And I can’t handle thinking about that, either. I just want it to stop. All of it. I can’t do this." He shivered and tried to remember to breathe.

"I know," Sam murmured. "It's okay. I get it. But you're gonna be okay. I'm here."

"You - " Gabriel shuddered again, feeling sick and exhausted and still plagued by the grotesque haze of nightmares. "You can touch me."

Sam squeezed his hand.

“No,” Gabriel said, “I mean - ”

Sam eased him closer, into a gentle hug that felt undeserved but not frightening.

Gabriel took a deep breath, came close to making a remark about parachutes, and decided he had better not speak.

Since escaping, Gabriel had had instances in which he'd seriously doubted his own intellect. Surely he had simply not been clever enough to break free from Asmodeus; surely only a truly dimwitted being would have gotten so lost in the post-infernal labyrinth between knowledge and experience.

Despite this uncertainty, he didn't believe that he was stupid enough to miss what seemed obvious: the safety he felt in an embrace like this was instinctual. Perhaps it was a rudimentary form of applied knowledge. At least in this moment, there was no need to berate himself into common sense - not when the privilege of a warm embrace, however unmerited, felt quite different from anything else.

[vforvolatile]

“You knew what you were doing the second you set foot in this place wearing that,” his voice a low drawl of inspired lust.

“Oh yeah?” V hums in feigned contemplation as she sits on the bathroom sink, wearing a tight, silver dress that barely covers anything it should.

“Oh yeah.” Johnny steps closer, exhaling a cloud of smoke that V takes a deep breath out of.

She isn’t much of a smoker herself, but the aroma of it is delicious when mixed with the near inebriating scent of the other. V spreads her legs for him as he approaches, extinguishes the cigarette against the porcelain, and grabs onto her toned thighs, one in each hand.

“You know what you do to me, right?” he whispers in her ear before biting at the lobe of it.

“No,” she teases, “Tell me.”

“How ‘bout I show you instead?” His hands, one cold and one hot, crawls further up her skin, building excitement and wetness between her southern lips.

She sighs with elation and waits patiently for him to discover-

“Oh. Oh you dirty girl,” he murmurs low and heady, his thumb running down across the landing strip that guides him straight to her clit. “No panties, huh?”

She shivers as he draws circles on top of that bundle of nerves. “Johnny…” V sighs and turns her head in hopes of meeting his mouth.

But he keeps his kisses away from her mouth no matter how much she wants it. “How did you like the show?”

Typical him, wanting a compliment and praise, if only others knew how needy he actually is beneath that rock star glamor.

“You were fantastic,” V whines just slightly from the sensation between her thighs.

“Was I?” His thumb rubs faster.

“Y-yeah,” she can’t keep her voice down, people gathering in the backstage area can no doubt hear her just slightly if they pay attention to it. It sets her soul aflame. “You’re a fucking rock star, Johnny.”

“Fuck yeah I am.” He moves down her neck as she tilts her head backwards to allow him better access.

“A rock god.”

“Mhm,” he agrees and bites just slightly at her throat, making her let out a light, breathy moan.

It’s no secret that V has a bit of a voyeuristic trait. From fucking against the window of their apartment, to some dark and dingy backalley, to the green room’s couch, and now also the bathroom attached.

The next band has taken the stage, and their less impressive music beats against the walls. Voices of eager fans fill the air between the two, and it excites V beyond compare that at any moment anyone could just wander in, whether it be a member of Samurai, a stagehand, or a frantic fan who’s managed to sneak in.

She looks to the unlocked door, wishes it was just slightly ajar so people had a better idea of what was going on as Johnny bites her neck then apologetically licks the marks.

“God you’re soaked,” he says, bringing her back to his attention.

“You do that to me,” she chuckles and looks at him, trying to meet his shielded gaze.

Most people would probably prefer to be able to see their lover's eyes, but not being able to properly guess where he’s looking makes it all the more exciting. Is he staring her straight in the eyes? Is he appreciating how the strap of her dress has fallen down, exposing her breast? Or is he looking at himself in the mirror behind her?

He takes all the fun out of guessing as he leans down to gently close his teeth around a sensitive, perky nipple of her tit, and she lets out a row of “Ah’s” as he pulls on her skin.

Heat builds fast beneath her skin, flourishing by her crotch as he masterfully massages her clit. Might be the guitarist in him, but Johnny’s amazing with his hands; so attentive and meticulous.

She grabs a fist full of black hair. “Johnny…”

And he comes up for air, his breath hot against her lips as he responds, “Yeah baby?”

“Oh, don’t stop.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Again he refuses her a kiss, something rare and to be cherished, but she has learnt at least some patience when it comes to the softer things with him. He doesn’t cuddle, he doesn’t kiss (usually), and he seldomly goes gentle with anything, but the way he touches her right now seems to be an exception to that rule. If there is one thing he cares about, it’s pleasing his partner, and, “Oh, fuck,” if he doesn’t do her justice.

“I-I’m close!”

His silver hand cups and pinches one breast whilst his mouth moves on to the second one, a master at multitasking, which again might come from being a musician, might come from practice, V doesn’t care about any of that, only her quickly building orgasm that will soon wash over her like warm waves of euphoria.

“Fuck, Johnny, fuck!”

And she howls, like a bitch in heat, as it crashes through her system, making her eyes roll back as she knits her brow and grabs on to the edges of the sink to try and stabilize some. As always it is a most wonderful experience being with Johnny, whether rough or caring, she wants it all.

“Good?” he smirks all cocky and self-confident. 

V laughs toward the ceiling from where she threw her head back, and turns to look at him. “Yeah, good.”

“Good.” He steps away, leaving empty and cold air between them, but the way he sucks his thumb clean of her juices can only mean one thing. “Stand up.”

She does as instructed, landing on her heels that makes her almost as tall as him… almost.

“Now turn around.”

Again she doesn’t question it, if anything it only excites her further, her throbbing clit still eager for more delight. In the mirror she can see how he turns his head down, appreciating her firm ass that he slaps without pause, causing V to let out a shocked and pleased yelp.

“Am I that ugly that I must be punished?” she jokes, well aware of how desirable she is, especially to him. But doesn’t expect for him to disagree with her question.

“Quite the opposite,” he says, one hand softly caressing where he left a red handprint on her ass cheek. 

Johnny then leans in, reaching over her shoulder to knock twice on the cracked mirror to activate the reflective parts of it.

“I want to see all of you.”

V looks in the mirror and knows he’s meeting her gaze where she can’t help but bite her lower lip.

He takes to it well, putting a hand on her shoulder and pushing till she bends forward, hands grasping at the sink to keep her steady. With confidence beyond anyone’s years he steps in between her spread legs and slowly lets a warm hand slip over the soft mound of her ass, lower and lower till he reaches her hole and unapologetically thrusts in two fingers.

“Aah, mmh,” V moans and tightens her grasp around the edges of the porcelain sink.

Johnny twists and turns his fingers inside of her, eliciting plentiful moans and pleas for more, which he answers with teasingly light thrusts into her wet cunt. 

“You really went my entire performance without anything on underneath,” he says all matter-of-factly. “Someone might have noticed.”

“Ohh,” she whimpers, not so secretly hoping that someone did notice. He goes knuckle deep and her arms tremble with it all as she lets out a, “Fuck!”

“You didn’t think how that would make me feel?” There’s a shift in his tone, something meaner and more… “Did you hope I’d be jealous of any lucky fuck getting a glance at your pussy?”

She has to bring up a hand to press against the wall from tipping over as he sets a punishing pace with now three fingers, which only amps up the overflowing ecstasy that drowns all her other senses.

With his silver hand he pulls her hair, yanking at it till her head tips backwards so that he can growl in her ear,

“You’re mine, get it?”

She moans louder than ever before, thighs quivering, the burning white heat inside of her reaching its zenith.

“Say it!” he demands and pulls at her hair again till her neck starts hurting in the most wonderful of ways.

“I’m yours!” she shouts back between overzealous moans. “I’m yours, Johnny Silverhand.”

V knows how much he loves hearing his name dripping from her erotic lips. And just as she’s seconds away from cumming, he moves away to quickly pull himself out of his pants that have barely left his hips. He doesn’t give room for pause before he’s close to her again, sliding into her dripping wet pussy and sets a fast pace immediately, as if he’s already close himself to bursting.

She doesn’t contain her moans as he pounds her, both hands on her hips for better and faster leverage with a brutal momentum. Eyes screwed shut she focuses on how his lengthy cock slips in and out of her, massaging every muscle inside and hitting that one spot so perfectly she’s a mess of an orgasm seconds later.

But he doesn’t slow down, instead he ramps up the speed, chasing his own high and using her to reach it, grunts and groans slipping out every now and again; he’s not very vocal once he gets to the actual fucking, but teases aplenty before it.

V doesn’t mind though, she loves how crude he is, like a rock star should be, taking all that he can and giving all that he is back, too. They both live for an audience.

Among moans, whimpers and coos, she dares bring a hand down between her slick thighs, hoping to not tip over as he mercilessly rails her. She presses two fingers against her clit and tries to match his beat in hopes of a third orgasm, which she luckily finds soon, and as her insides tighten and clamp down on Johnny’s buried cock, he groans out,

“Arrh, shit V, fuck!”

And it doesn’t take more than that to undo him; a tight, wet pussy and a pair of great hips to cling to and he is finished.

The exhilaration soothes out into bliss as they pant and gasp for air in the humid bathroom that only grew hotter during their fucking. 

He stays inside her for a time, bending over to rest his sweaty forehead against her shoulder, and for a moment she’s all that’s keeping them standing still, arms stretched out toward the sink.

But that moment passes quickly, and she lets out a well pleasured moan as Johnny pulls out of her to zip up his pants. He then lifts up her skirt some, admiring how his cum drips out of her onto the floor and runs down her leg.

“You should probably clean up,” he says, adjusting himself in his pants. “Don’t want you ruining the seat of my car.”

“How thoughtful,” she chimes far too cheerfully, but V is always in a great mood after a good fucking.

“Yeah, well, that’s me, mister thoughtful, now come on, let’s get home.”

“Why are you in such a rush?” 

“What? Did you think I was done with you?” He grins.

[harrywritingsbyme]

Do you think you could write a piece about Harry and y/n having sex but she’s like really short and Harry is like throwing her around and just manhandling her and fucking destroying her guts but also make kinda fluffy pls😔👉👈

Welcome Home

Anonymous Said: Hi I’ve discovered this blog recently and can I please just take a moment to say Wow... you’re writing is amazing and your ideas and concepts are brilliant. I’m not sure if your taking requests or concepts but here’s an idea. SNL pilot Harry like with the grey hair and all coming home to his wife who misses him dearly after awhile followed by you know what. And if you could include size kink (I really liked that concept)

A/N: I’m so sorry it’s so late guys! Since I’ve been writing for a year now, I figured that I’d give an ‘Au’ a try. When I got this request, I was completely floored. Like holy shit, sexy ass older pilot!Harry, and small!Y/n. All of this is perfection and I love this so much! Enjoy🙃

4.7k words

Harry loved his job. He considered himself to be pretty lucky to have the ability to travel the world and see places he’d only dreamt of growing up. Even though he wasn’t in those places for an extended amount of time, simply being there was more than enough for Harry and it made him want to go back and explore. If he was lucky, he’d have multiple flights to the same place or longer layover in these But what Harry loved most about his job was the fact that he got to do it all with the love of his life. 

When you two first met, Harry’d been a pilot for some years and you were just hired for your job as a flight attendant. You knew that it wasn’t the most glamorous profession int the world, but you wanted to dip your toes into the pool of world travel, and this was the route you were taking to start. Before your first flight you’d asked around about the pilots for your flight and you were met with the same response each time. Everyone said that Harry was one of the nicest people in the world and was pretty good looking too, but his copilot was the person you were advised to try your best to avoid. Luckily, you only had to interact with Harry. Both you and Harry hated to say it and be all cliché, but from the moment you two laid eyes on and interacted with each other you both were hooked. Even though the both of you could’ve really used the entirety of your breaks to get some sleep, you and Harry couldn’t stop talking to each other. From that point on, the two of you became inseparable. During layovers that were more than just a couple hours and Harry had some spare time outside of his duties as pilot, the two of you would spend time together. You two were so caught up in each other and being together that you’d swap flights and breaks with the other flight attendants so that you and Harry could be together. And Harry did the same. He’d always put in a word with the people who made the schedules to ensure that he was flying the flights you were on or he’d try to get you on his flights. 

After constantly being on flights together and even running into each other during your times off, you and Harry were pretty convinced that you two should give a relationship a try. Even though there was a significant risk involved with starting a relationship with someone who was pretty much your boss and/or employee, you and Harry were willing to take that risk. And you two never looked back. In fact, disclosing you guys’ relationship made things way easier for you and Harry; you two were almost always on the same flights together. Now, you two are happily married and traveling the world together about 99% of the time. You both absolutely hated when the 1% times came around. You two became so used to being on the same flights that when you weren’t, you and Harry were a bit sad and even a little homesick believe it or not. This time unfortunately was Harry’s turn to fly without you. There wasn’t a moment on his trip that Harry didn’t miss you. He was focused on his job but he was still thinking about you. He was constantly wondering about what you were doing at home. When he took his break he just laid there and the cuddles and kisses he’d get if you were there with him. He also missed listening to your passenger horror stories and pushing you to just keep going. And on top of all that, Harry missed all the times you two would try to quietly go at it in the bathroom or crew resting area depending on whether or not you two were the only ones on break. Even though he was able to talk to you during his layover, he was counting the days and eventually hours until he came back home to you. As soon as he landed on the tarmac at the airport, Harry was on a mission to get home. After following all the necessary after flight procedure and filling out all of the necessary paperwork, Harry threw his bag into his car and sped home to you.

Surprisingly, Harry was able to get home and not get a ticket. He quickly pulls into the driveway and carries himself and his bag into the house. When he walks through the front door, Harry could immediately feel your presence. He could feel your warmth radiating through the entire house. All he had to do now as find you. Before checking upstairs, he makes his way around the main level of the house to look for you. As he exits the kitchen and makes his way down the hall, Harry could hear your soft hums getting louder and louder. When he reaches the laundry room, he sees you standing at the folding in the corner. Simply seeing you bought a big smile to his face. He then wastes no time coming over to you and wrapping his arms around your smaller body. 

“Honey I’m home.” Harry happily coos in your ear before pressing a soft kiss below it. When he does this, you turn around in his arms to get a better look at him. 

“Welcome home.” You whisper back to him, lifting yourself up onto your tips of your toes to bring your lips to his. As soon as your lips connect, the both of you release sighs of content. You two were back together. It doesn’t take long for Harry’s arms to tighten around your body and hoist you up onto the table behind you. The kiss lasts a little longer before you pull away from his lips. 

“How was your long haul without me?” You hum, sliding your hands up the lapels of his jacket.

“It was hell.” Harry says pointedly. 

“It couldn’t have been that bad.”

“Was thinking about you the whole time.” Harry frowns a little at you to emphasize his point. 

“I missed you too baby.” You coo softly to him. You then reach up and pull the captains hat off of his head, sitting it down next to you before pushing your hands through his greying curls. When you two first met, he had some grey hairs here and there. But now they had taken over just about all of his head; and you were very into it. “Any annoying kids or weird old ladies?” You ask him. 

 “For the kids, I wouldn’t know. I like to stay in the front of the plane or the crew area.” Harry begins truthfully. “But as for the old ladies, they always want to break off a piece of this.” He continues smugly.

“Why would they want you? Do they wanna swap arthritis creams or something?” You joke with a laugh, watching his face fall in the process. 

“I will have you know that I’m considered a silver fox. And you know it.” Harry defends, slightly tilting his head up away from you. When he says this all you could do was pucker your lips and bite the inside of them because what he said was in fact true. You just couldn’t let him know that. “Now what’d you get into while I was gone?” Harry asks curiously with a smirk from his previous victory. 

“Did some stuff around the house and I did a little missing you retail therapy.” You reply happily. 

“So I take it that the credit card bill this month is gonna be a little higher than normal?” Harry asks suspiciously. 

“Just a little.” You whisper trying to undermine your shopping spree. 

“A little?” Harry asks you again, already knowing that you’re undermining how much you actually spent. 

“Mhm.” You mumble, nodding your head sweetly in the process. 

“You’re too cute and pretty for your own good.” Harry chuckles and shakes his head down at you. 

“You love it though.” You hum happily up at him, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“I do.” Harry sighs contently. This is what he missed. He missed being in your arms and just loving on you. He loved seeing your smile and feeing your small arms wrap around him. “I actually bought you a couple things.” Harry whispers, tightening his grip around your back. 

“Is it more skimpy lingerie?” You question him, making sure to spread a wide smirk across your face. Instead of readily replying to you, Harry simply unwraps one of his arms from around your back and he brings it up to the front of your dress. Since the front of your dress was loosely wrapped around your body to keep it closed, Harry as able to simply pluck back the top a little to get a good look at your body beneath the fabric. 

“Well I guess this is my cue to stop buying the lingerie, since you’re not even wearing it.” Harry points out, looking down into your dress to find your bare, supple breasts resting on your chest. It took a lot of self control for Harry in that moment to not stick his hand down your dress to take your plushy flesh into his hand.

“Well I thought it was for our sexy times or when I send you pictures while you’re on a trip and on your break or stuck in a hotel room without me.” You explain to him. You even throw in a little pout; you wanted to keep your fancy and very pretty lingerie flow going. “But I am wearing one of the pairs of  panties you picked up in Italy if you wanna see how some of your purchases look on me.” You whisper lowly to him. You then use your arms that are hooked around his neck to pull his head down closer to yours. Harry was already a bit hard from finally being home with you. Now he was getting even harder from your words. 

“Is it bad that I’ve only been home for 20 minuets and I’m already thinking about completely ravishing you?” Harry mumbles against your pillow soft lips. “Just so pretty baby.” Harry grumbles frustratedly before bringing his mouth the rest of the way to yours while pulling you closer to the edge of the table. He couldn’t believe that he, a man who turned 40 a couple months prior, was getting all riled up and turned on the same way he did 20 plus years ago. That was just the age defying effect you had on him. 

“No, not at all.” You begin as you pull away from the short lived yet beyond passionate kiss, slowly bringing your left hand up the back of his neck to his hair. “In fact, every time I see you in your head to toe pilots get up, I’m always fighting the strong urge to fall to my knees and take your cock down my throat.” You bluntly continue, your voice filled with a very nonchalant and teasing tone. 

When this statement left your mouth, Harry was a little bit taken aback. But at the same time he wasn’t. After slowly building up your friendship that in no time blossomed into a more romantic relationship together, Harry was able to slowly show you the ropes so to speak and teach you just about everything you knew when it came to the bedroom and a happy and healthy relationship. When you two progressed to the more intimate stage of your budding relationship, you were pretty inexperienced. You didn’t know your way around the bedroom at all. You we’re still a virgin and you didn’t even know the ins and outs of making out with someone. All you knew was that this smart, extremely kind, absolutely gorgeous, and just overall stunning human being, older man who just so happened to be the pilot on your flight had taken a strong interest in you. And luckily for you, your lack of experience was the least of his concerns. It was like you hit the jackpot with him. Fast forward to now when you two are a married couple, you’ve taken all of the tips and tricks he’s taught over time and you’re running with it. Harry wasn’t the only who had the ability to do things to your body that would make your toes to curl, your entire body to go numb, and cause your mind to deem it all indescribable. You also had the ability to turn Harry into a pleasured, borderline incoherent, and moaning mess; something that most women in his past who were his age or slightly older weren’t even able to do. So it wasn’t a complete surprise that those words came from your mouth.

“Who knew that my pretty little wife had such a filthy mouth.” Harry gasps with a condescending tone.

“Well I’m not a prudish old man like you.” You simply reply. This was the button in Harry that you loved to push. 

“I don’t know where you’re getting that from but I’m far from prudish and I’m definitely not an old man.” Harry says matter of factly. “If I remember it correctly, I made you wear vibrating panties for the entirety of an 18 hour flight.” Harry recalls, making his point against being called prudish. 

“Everyone uses those. Especially older men.” You smugly whisper back, pushing even harder on this button of his. 

Harry knew exactly what you were doing. He knew that you were pushing his button so that he’d unleash everything he had built up over the course of his trip into you. It didn’t take much for him to realize that you wanted him to really make up for not being with you for almost a week. The both of you were itching to feel and be around each other again. After you and Harry made it past the learning and teaching phase of you guys’ sex life, the two of you acquired a constant hunger for one another. When you and Harry had some time off, the sex would be nonstop. Whether it was cockwarming or full on sex where you’re riding his cock or he was slamming himself deep into your pussy, you and Harry were always looking for ways to be around each other like this. And it was exactly the same when you two were on the job. Even though you two didn’t have the freedom to go at it whenever you wanted, you and Harry still found ways to be with each other. For some reason, seeing each other dressed in your uniforms was a bit of a turn on. It didn’t help that the both of you were borderline thrill seekers and loved the rush that came along with trying to be quiet as you both were experiencing some of the best pleasure you’d ever felt.

“Well do all older men pound and shove their cocks into their girlfriends, and now wives tight little cunts over and over again until she’s begging and crying for him to slow down and let them cum? Because if not, I’ve got countless stories about me doing that to you in the cramped bathroom on a flight, in restaurant bathrooms, dressing rooms, upstairs, on the couch, the kitchen counter, right here on this table, and many other places.” Even though you acted confident and enjoyed battling Harry for dominance, you were able to easily fall into a more submissive role. The way he’s calmly able to say the filthiest things made your body quake and your panties become even more soaked than they already were. You were never going to be able to forget about all of those times. How and why would you ever forget the times where he’s hoisted you up against a door or a wall, or pushed you down against the counter, tightly wrapped a hand around your mouth to keep you quiet, and deliciously slammed his cock up into you? If you focused in on those memories, you could remember and almost feel him inside you.

That’s what you wanted right now. You wanted him to pound into you so hard that you’d a sore, moaning mess and you wanted to make up for the time you two weren’t together. This was the first time in a good while that you weren’t scheduled for a flight with Harry and you really missed him. And his cock. So if you had to push one of his buttons to really get what you both wanted, you were going to do it. 

“Well I think you guys can do that,” You begin, pausing to run your hands down from his neck and across the expanse of his broad shoulders. “I just think that you may need a little help if you know what I mean.” You finish. When you say this, Harry knows exactly what you were implying and he wasn’t having any of it. 

“You and this pretty little body of yours is gonna get it.” Harry growls before yanking you up from the table and pulling you into his body. He quietly marches you both up the stairs and to your shared bedroom. When he reaches the foot of the bed, he releases his once tight grip on your body and drops you down onto the bed. He continues to go about everything silently, shoving his jacket off of his shoulders and working on his tie and shirt.

“You look really hot in that uniform just so you know.” You admire from the bed below him. You watch him chuckle at your statement as he shrugs his shirt and undone tie off his body. You were really turned on right now. Like the sight of his bare, toned and tattooed chest and arms was a sight you could stare at forever. Add onto that the fact that he was mad and taking control over you and you were setup to be a complete mess. And your panties could definitely attest to that. You were completely drenched and dying to feel him against and inside you. 

“You don’t have to butter me up baby.” Harry begins as he undoes his shoes. “M’still gonna take care of you and that smart mouth of yours.” Harry guarantees, shoving his shoes and socks off his feet and standing back up to work on his pants. “Gonna make sure you know what I can do to you.” Harry finishes, finally undoing his belt and shoving his pants along with his boxers down his legs. When you see his thick and very hard cock, you couldn’t stop a moan or two from escaping your mouth. “I take it someone needs my cock.” Harry chuckles at your desperation for his cock. He planned on showing you just how much you needed him. He then comes closer to the edge of the bed and in one swift motion, Harry pulls you up from your lying position and flips you onto your front. He masterfully undoes the tie on the back of your dress and he flips you back onto your back. He tugs at the fabric, opening your dress and exposing your partially naked body to him. He takes a moment to admire your body and all he could do is bite his lip. He couldn’t believe that he managed to be away from this for nearly an entire week. 

Harry quickly snaps out of his trance when he feels his cock twitch slightly and he leans down to scoop you up into his arms. When he does this, Harry keeps you low in his grip so that you’d be right against his cock. He keeps one arm securely around your body and pulls your arms from the dress. Once it’s completely off of you, he drops it into the pile of his clothes and drops you back onto the bed. Before crawling up and on top of you, Harry uses your claves to push you a little higher up onto the bed and to flip you back onto your stomach. When he does this, you really know you’re in for it. Whenever you were in this position Harry really made sure to slam into you and make you scream. When he crawls up and is on top of you from behind, he wastes no time in ripping the barely there panties off your body. For the first time in what felt like forever, Harry didn’t snap the delicate undergarment in half. Once they’re out of the way, Harry has complete access to your body.

“Gonna be a good girl and take daddy’s cock?” Harry asks, squeezing the flesh of your ass before raising it up just to crash it back down.

“Mhm.” You whimper, really feeling the sting from the sudden slap.

“Use your words.” Harry demands, raising his hand back up to deliver another slap to your backside. 

“Yes daddy.” You cry out to him, this time feeling not only the sting of his slaps but also feeling of your juices dripping onto the sheets.

“Good girl.” Harry hums at your response. He then straddles your thighs, wanting to keep you in place when he pushes into you. He lifts himself up so that he’s hovering over you, and he grips onto his cock to give himself a good squeeze, resulting in him letting out a loud grumble behind you (that went straight to your clit). He tightly grips onto the flesh of one of your cheeks and he pulls your ass apart to get a better view of you. When he sees your puckered hole, Harry gets a little idea. In the process of lining himself up with your entrance, Harry uses his cock to put a little pressure on your tighter hole. When he does this, words begin to pour out of your mouth. 

“M’too tight daddy.” You rush out to him, trying to stop his actions. Harry knew that you were too tight for him at the moment, but he just liked to work you up a little and hear you beg.

“Don’t worry baby. When were done, daddy’s gonna get you nice and ready for his cock.” He promises, lowering his cock from your second hole down to the first. When you feel his thick head nudging at your entrance, your moans got louder. You needed him to be inside you already. 

“Want your big cock daddy.” You beg. You try to move back against him but he’s practically sitting on your thighs, which is pinning you to the bed. 

“Whats the magic word?” Harry teases.

“Please daddy?” And with that, Harry is finally sinking his cock into you. When you feel his cock stretching you to fit all of him, your mind goes blank. All you could come up with was strings of loud moans and feeling good. You felt full agains which was all you really wanted. As he continues to sheath his cock with your walls, Harry’s hand leaves his shaft and goes right to your other cheek. He pulls your ass completely apart and watches as his cock disappears into you.

“That’s it, take this cock sweetheart.” Harry pants in amazement. He was still in awe at how a small woman like you was able to take every last inch of his manhood. Once he’s fully inside, Harry’s eyes trail up your body to find you resting your cheek against the sheets with your mouth wide open. Thats what he wanted to see. Keeping his hands on your ass, Harry lifts himself up so that he’s hovering over you and goes straight into slamming in and out of your tight and very wet pussy. As he does this, your entire body quakes at the amazing sensation of him fucking you. Feeling him pound into your stomach as he called you his sweet girl and his pretty little wife was beyond extraordinary. You could feel the familiar tight and warm knot beginning to form in the pit of your stomach already.

As Harry fucks into you, he’s beyond turned on. The way you’re pinned below him as he shoves his cock deep into you along with you pitifully whimpering, moaning, and crying at how good he felt was really doing things to Harry. He never wanted to be away from you ever again. He wanted to feel you every single day.

After fucking into you from behind for a good while and feeling the tight burning sensation forming in the pit of his stomach as well, Harry figures that he’s going to cum soon and he wants to watch your face twist as he does. He then proceeds to stop thrusting all together and pull out of you, which causes you to grumble, resulting in you receiving a hard “shut up” slap to your ass. He then gets lifts himself off of you and flips tugs you onto your back. He knocks your legs apart and gets in between them before slamming his cock back into you.

“Like this baby. Like it when daddy takes control of this tight little cunt of yours?” He pants, continuing to slam his his cock into you. You were too caught up in how good he was making you feel that you couldn’t even form a worded response. All you could do was thrash your head against the bed in agreement. When he sees this, a very wide smirk rises to his face. This is exactly what he missed and wanted to see. You taking all of his cock while you’re quivering and barely holding on. As he continues, Harry can feel the warmth from the pit of his stomach spreading to his entire body, signifying to him that his release was getting extremely close. Judging by the way your once tight grip on the sheets has gone loose, your pitiful whimpers, and the way you’re tightening up around him you’re feeling the exact same way. To make you cum around his cock, with him following right behind you Harry only has to do two things. First, he brings his palm to your lower stomach and presses it into you; putting pressure on the warm knot that was about to explode and allowing him to feel his cock moving inside you. He then comes down, bringing his mouth to your ear to whisper one thing into your ear. “Not too bad for an old man right?” Harry hums patronizingly into your ear. He wanted you to eat your words. And you were. His words, the pressure from his hand, and his cock causes you to burst at the seams around him. You let out a mixture of gasps and whimpers as you completely let go around Harry’s cock. When he feels your walls contracting around him, Harry lets go as well. He releases every last drop of the sexual frustration he’d been carrying around all week; and it felt so good. He loved painting your walls with his cum.

Once the both of you are done and it’s safe to pull out, Harry’s slowly pulls his sopping wet cock from your cunt and collapses onto the bed next to you. 

“Harry, I can’t feel my legs.” You whimper after a couple minuets of silence. 

“M’surprised you’re not used to it by now.” Harry hums smugly. Once he says this, a temporary lull fell over you two. You and Harry were very anxious to go at it again, but you two were holding off to see who would initiate round two. 

“Did you take something before you came in the house?” You whisper over to him, deciding that you needed to be the one to initiate round two.

“Do I need to come over there and shove my cock down that pretty throat of yours for you to get the point?” Harry chuckles at your persistence. 

“Only if you want to.” You whisper sweetly. 

“Oh I want to, and don’t you doubt that.” Harry says matter of factly. 

“Well can we cuddle first? Haven’t cuddled since the night before you left.”

“Anything you want.” Harry coos before moving closer to your limp body. 

Masterlist

[backtoyuta]

NCT 127: How they would be as coworkers in a shitty office

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❁ [Taeil] King of the welcome wagon; If it was your first day working in a small dinky business, Taeil will make it his sole responsibility to make the environment as inviting as possible. After all, the business wasn't some glamorous well known company, nor was it an exciting new start up, so Taeil made it his mission to paint the office as pretty as he could before you could decide if the job was too boring to keep. If you ask any of his co-workers they'll tell you nobody put him in charge of welcoming the newbie, but it seemed everybody but you noticed him do a double take at the receptionist's desk where you waited to be shown around. Soft moments included him making you a coffee every time he left to make his own, making a point of clearing a little space in the communal fridge for your lunch and hanging around while trying to maintain a respectful distance in case you had any queries so he could be the first to answer them. If you were low-key dreading your first day, you kinda forget about the nerves quickly because of his kindness and tells you cheerfully "See, we don't bite." Will make sure you have everything you need, down to the last sticky note and ball point pen, and smiles bashfully at you when you go to thank him.

❁ [Johnny] cheesy office romance; It was quite impressive really, the fact that Johnny managed to unlock every single office romance cliche you could think of and he wasn't subtle about it either. Though there was no policy really about dating co-workers, the whole situation was a tiny bit embarrassing given the blatant flirting from the titan walking around in his shirt and tie, always throwing devilish smiles from over the photocopier. Even if his desk was miles away from yours, there would always be an excuse to stroll by your work space to drop off some paperwork personally, or remind you of the meeting happening in the afternoon despite the email reminder going around. Johnny really put his bladder through it since he now took too frequent trips to the water cooler that was so conveniently placed next to your desk. The whole office gagged when you finally agreed to go for drinks after work. The hours were spent buying each other pints and admiring him with his tie loosened and shirt sleeves rolled up, revealing the delicate tattoos that decorated the skin there before calling it a night and letting him kiss you on your porch after walking you home. You kind of became the height of office gossip, which Johnny thrived in, but you couldn't really be mad when you were dating that tall glass of water after all.

❁ [Taeyong] The receptionist with first aid training; Stapling your finger was embarrassing enough, imagine the heat flooding your cheeks when the receptionist appears at your desk clutching the first aid kit, big kind eyes glancing at your finger empathetically. Taeyong was the first face you saw when you walked through the door, that alone making a wonderful first impression, also he was a very diligent worker. He never made a fuss when you asked him to fax something, make a memo or photocopy, and when you had to ring the office because you left your keycard and needed to be let in, he laughed that off with you too while assuring that it happened all the time. On the blasted day you aimed the stapler at your paper but instead caught your finger, Taeyong was the first to perk from behind his desk at your exclamation of "Ow!" and was by your side before you knew it. He apologised profusely at the sting of an anti-bacterial wipe and wrapped your finger gingerly in a plaster, his chair scooted towards you and your knees bumping occasionally. You were pretty sure every female in the office was crushing on him and you were one of many, but you couldn't help the blush when you received a private IM chat asking if you wanted to get coffee after work: "Date? :)" he wrote at the end of the message. You wasted no time typing on your computer a reply, sneaking a glance at his face from behind the desk and exchanging a smile before looking busy once again.

❁ [Yuta] The guy that lowkey terrified you; Yuta was the co-worker that, whether it was on purpose or not, pushed you away with sheer intimidation and sinfully good looks. When you first encountered him in the office you were sure he was a model undercover, and when that was debunked you were sure he must have had a much higher level and higher paying job than you. His presence read corporate, the cologne you sometimes caught a whiff of smelt expensive and you could easily picture him in a big leather chair in a tall glass building barking orders at people. What surprised you was behind the intimidating aura, lay the humility of any of your other co-workers. All it took was one painfully awkward conversation in the break room and with the power of pointless small talk you learnt that his weekend plans didn't involve a modelling side hustle like you expected, but rather being a homebody, watching animated movies and cooking dinner for one instead. When you did finally enter an established relationship with him, expect impulsive moments like being tugged into the copier room so he can press his lips to yours and run his hands through your hair, or intense staring contests when other male co-workers demanded your attention. Overall, he was terrifying, but his redeemable qualities involved making dates after work so you had something to look forward to, buying your favourite cake during office parties and volunteering to do overtime with you so you would always be entertained.

❁ [Doyoung] The manager that scares you shitless; For the position of local branch manager, Doyoung exuded way more power and intimidation than what was probably warranted. Maybe that was why he managed to get the branch performing so well, everybody dreaded being called into his office for "friendly chitchat" after making a small mistake. When you first arrived, you steered as clear from him as possible, only venturing near his office when absolutely needed. What you didn't see was the way he would watch you intently in your little office nook, always appreciating how hard you worked and how cute you looked in your office get-up. You often squirmed at the amount of eye-contact he gave you when he ran meetings and you would glance around to see if anyone else was experiencing the same thing. Nope, just you. When he did call you into his office that one time you were quaking in your shoes. You had already convinced yourself you were fired before you had even reached his office door, but the feeling was replaced soon enough with confusion when he did eventually speak to you. "I just wanted to ask... would you be interested in.... this corporate training program?" He rushed. My god, your boss was just as awkward as the next bumbling guy. It would be a while before he asked you on an official date, dinner for two, also quite a bit of paperwork to fill out with HR, but you would come to realise his icy exterior wasn't all that icy when he wasn't in work-mode.

❁ [Jaehyun] The temp that never left; Jaehyun was fresh from university, now venturing into the world of work but still had the boyish aura that set him apart from the rest of the men in the office. From the way he spoke to you over lunch in the break room you could tell he was full of ambition, but also didn't seem to be in any rush to leave this job any time soon. Jaehyun was the guy who you initially tried not to get too close to, since you were under the impression that he would be leaving after completing the temporary placement and when he left it would hurt like a bitch. However, you could have sworn his placement ended like a month ago, but eventually you learnt that he somehow managed to talk himself into a full-time position. "Oh that, yeah, I guess I just realised I had more reasons to stay." He shrugged as casually as he could when you asked about it. You couldn't deny that you were happy, not when you saw his smiling face in the conference room saving you a seat, hearing his outrageous stories from uni and always being the two to get a little too drunk at corporate parties and being sent home in a taxi of shame. Romance blossomed when you remembered that one drunken kiss in the backseat and you both bonded when your boss gave you the cold shoulder after arriving to work a little more than dishevelled and with a hangover.

❁ [Jungwoo] Desk buddy; Honestly, who could hate their job when they had a sweet Jungwoo sitting at the desk adjacent to theirs. You kinda scored when your boss appointed you this specific desk because Jungwoo took to you almost embarrassingly quick. It made your heart swell looking at all the little knick knacks on his desk; toys to fiddle with and colourful sticky notes, this was just one part of his persona. You were a little shocked when he offered you a cigarette during the lunch break, kind of exposing a duality you didn't know existed, but nobody could be that wholesome of a person. Monday to Friday 9-5 was filled with Jungwoo ping-ponging back and forth between these traits, any off handed comments he would mutter to you when the boss was giving an announcement or the conversations you would overhear him having with a friend over the phone would remind you he wasn't a total puppy of a human being. However, the way he always offered to share a snack and would flick paper and notes at you playfully was also very much him being himself. You always fluttered a little at the smirk he would throw your way when your manager was talking something boring or ridiculous, it seemed those smirks were only reserved for you. It didn't take long before he became your best friend in the office, if he wasn't in that day you were in the right mind to just call it quits yourself (and vice versa), he was the guy that made the long hours that much more bearable.

❁ [Mark] The bumbling intern; When it came to responsibilities in the work place, you tried to delegate as little of that as possible to Mark the intern. It was cute really, the guy put in 110% effort into his tasks and yet when it came to coffee orders, photocopying or sending out a memo, something nearly always went wrong. You couldn't help but admire his enthusiasm, also that he made an effort to know everybody in the office, including the cleaners. Mark was one of the first people to greet you when you joined, waving around a little notebook of Starbucks orders and a company card to splurge, urging you to write down whatever you wanted. A simple task right? Rookie mistake. Bless him, you would never tell him how his mistake of getting full dairy rather than the soy you requested led to a night on and off the toilet, but that just scratched the surface of his office blunders. Somehow, he never cost the company too much, but there was a reason why the poor boy never got promoted beyond intern. He wasn't deterred though, he'd lean up against your desk while you made idle chit chat and he'd tell you that he liked his job and he didn't aspire to be the best in this business. Where he really proved himself was during company functions, you'll never forget during the annual employee bbq when he asked you your favourite song so he could sing it melodically accompanied skilfully with a guitar. Mark's contributions to the work place were always a little unpredictable, but he kept things interesting and people, including you, genuinely enjoyed having him around.

❁ [Haechan] Probably the reason you get fired; Even in the workplace, Haechan can't deny himself a bit of mischief. He made a stellar first impression by rocking up half an hour late, sending your boss a half arsed apology and plonking down at the desk across the room from yours. To be honest, he kind of annoyed you at first, his attitude came off immature and you didn't appreciate how distracting he was when you had work to do. However, things started to change at some point. Haechan was the guy that convinced you to ditch the office party and sit on the rooftop with him to watch the city lights, the guy that sent out ridiculous memos just to catch you smile and the guy eventually became the reason for you own demise after he started picking you up for breakfast most mornings. When the manager called you in his office after being late the third time in a row, you ducked your head and mumbled something about traffic while hiding a croissant wrapper in your pocket, Haechan covered a laugh with a cough and apologised on behalf of both of you. When you asked him about why he never seemed to give a shit about anything, you learnt that it was because he had a taste for adventure; "Don't tell me you wanna stay and work here forever? Don't you wanna do something more... exciting with your life?" He asked you incredulously, like the answer was obvious. He kinda got you, no, you didn't want to work in a dingy office for the rest of you life. To be honest, when he painted a picture of moving to a big city, or taking a road trip, or just fucking off to the suburbs you didn't hate the sound of that either. When you were both sat there in your manager's office, signing off on a severance package, you weren't even mad. You didn't have time to be, Haechan was already clasping your hand and leading you to his car and laughing about finally being free, tugging his tie from around his neck whilst driving no where in particular- the start of an adventure.

[lazysublimeengineer]

crystal clear

Summary: One shot sequel to, "of glamorous appearances and intrigues"

“So that’s Hanagaki.” Senju fixed him with an attentive look as if witnessing something foolish yet radiant at the same time.

Wakasa still looked apathetic and disinterested at the unfolding events in front of him. But he knew that upon hearing Takemichi’s resolute words and clear objectives, it made him want to laugh at his idiotic brazenness yet he can’t tear his eyes away from the compelling beauty of his bravery hiding underneath his gawky and jittery appearance.

—Or how they’ve looked at Takemichi like he brought out the shining light to a dark place of chaos beyond them.

Characters: Takemichi H., Draken R., Senju K., I. Wakasa

In the middle of the impending war and traffic jam, Takemichi decided that he needed to put a stop to this mess. Or maybe he unexpectedly started it since Terano was looking at him like he wanted to crush an insect while the other gangsters surrounding them gaped at him as if he had lost his goddamn mind.

“I have no interest…Neither in Brahman, nor Rokuhara Tandai! I am only here to defeat Kantou Manji Gang’s leader, Sano Manjirou!” Takemichi bellowed with a determined look on his face. His blue eyes shining in temerity and boldness.

Whispers and murmurs erupted from the onlookers around them.

“I see. So that’s why you’re here.” Kakucho stated calmly.

“Are you insane?! Are you trying to interfere with the three deities?! A small fry like you?!” Terano yelled at him furiously, blocking his path with his imposing stature and wrath.

Takemichi kept his firm stance in front of him even though Terano’s imposing figure made him want to back down and stepped away out of reflex.

A punch suddenly went flying into Terano’s direction where the latter barely managed to dodged it with his arm blocking his body. But the sudden punch still sent him flying into the other side of the path.

Did he just got hit?!

“If you want to get to Takemitchy, you have to go through me!” Draken shot a proud smile at Takemichi’s direction before regarding Terano with a challenging yet mocking grin on his face.

“Come on, let’s begin round two!”

“Viiivo!” Terano yelled with a wide grin on his face before he ran towards Draken’s direction.

However, the loud sirens of the police cars halted their movements and looked around sharply.

“The cops?!” Takemichi cried, his eyes widening in surprise and panic.

“Tch. Let’s settle this some other time, Draken.” Terano stated in half disappointment and a matter of fact voice.

“South! I had left the old me in the Tokyo Manji Gang! I’ll never join Rokuhara Tandai!” Draken bellowed.

Terano didn’t deign him with a response and continued walking away from him.

‘You never change Draken. Your heart will always be with Toman.’ Takemichi inwardly thought with a small smile on his face.

As Draken and Takemichi watched Kakucho and the other members of their gang followed Terano away, Akashi called Draken’s attention and went towards his direction.

“Akashi?”

“Sorry for just standing quietly.” Akashi uttered as he patted Draken’s shoulders lightly before walking past him.

Draken watched him go although he could sensed Takemichi’s surprised and bewildered look into their direction.

He inwardly sighed. One of the reasons why he didn’t tell Takemichi earlier about his involvement with the Brahman gang was that he didn’t want Takemichi getting into another dangerous fray again. Knowing Takemichi, he wouldn’t hesitate to jumped onboard into the dangerous world of delinquency again once he knew everything. It’s already alarming itself that Takemichi still wanted to find and save Mikey despite him warning that Mikey had already changed and won’t hesitate to kill him if he decided to interfere and be a nuisance towards him.

But he guessed that Takemichi doesn’t operate like the other people. He was stubbornly firm about his beliefs and actions especially towards the people that he cared about the most. And maybe that’s one of the reasons why he’s also fond of their crybaby hero regardless of him being an awkward, lanky lad.

As Mikey had noted in the past, he may not be dexterous in a fight but he doesn’t give in easily to his opponents. He’s strong in his own way. And Draken wanted to protect him.

Takemichi had already saved his life in the past and now was the right time to return the favor to him and protect his future.

His short, wavy locks danced along the soft breeze of air. In the midst of the growing chaos around them, Senju was transfixed to the unflinching blond in front of them.

Takemichi was spouting some bold claims of not joining either of the two gangs and instead has the goal of defeating Manjirou Sano, the leader of the Bonten gang and one of the three deities.

“So that’s Hanagaki.” Senju fixed him with an attentive look as if witnessing something foolish yet radiant at the same time.

Senju didn’t know whether to laugh or raised an eyebrow at that imbecilic yet strong-willed goal of the blond.

Nevertheless, he finally got to witness one of Takemichi’s display of firmness and relentless attitude. No wonder the people around him always compared him to the late Shinichiro Sano. He’s physically weak in fighting but he’s great at drawing and motivating the people around him with his firm words and actions. Takemichi’s charisma was showing when the situation needed him to be determined and unyielding to the pressure in front of him.

While Draken was still busy defending Takemichi against Terano, he made his way towards the rattled blond and looked at him in the eye.

Takemichi yelped and he almost fell down to the ground since he was taken aback by Senju’s sudden appearance in front of him. But he quickly regained his footing and stood firm on his spot.

“E-excuse me?” Takemichi stammered, a complete opposite of his resolute self a while ago.

Senju’s lips curled upwards, his eyes dancing in hidden amusement beneath his penetrating gaze. Before Takemichi could backed away and protest, he leaned closer and whispered something into his ear.

“How bold of you Hanagaki to expressed a brave claim like that. You don’t fail to surprise people and mess with their heads.” His voice came out low, deep and throaty with his warm breath fanning against Takemichi’s senses. It made the blond’s eyes widen briefly and his heart sped up quickly.

“Eh? W-what do you m—?” His words were cut off when Senju pulled away and walked past him like it was nothing.

Senju had a feeling that this was not the last time that he’ll encounter the interesting blond and he will look forward to it.

Takemichi could only stare at his retreating form, unable to form a coherent sentence with the sudden close encounter with him. He was still trying to calm his stuttering heart inside his chest.

Why did Senju never failed to make him feel like that?

In spite of his small stature and seraphic features, he has the power to intimidate and draw the attention of people to him. His charisma and power reminded him of Mikey. The only difference was that he was sporting a calm and placid expression most of the time, he didn’t really see him sporting another expression on his face aside from the mild annoyance that he felt towards Shion earlier when the man questioned his presence there contemptuously.

He was a complete mystery to Takemichi.

Yet at the same time he felt like he was also figuring him out.

Takemichi just watched him go, unable to say anything in spite of his own heart wanted to tell otherwise.

Wakasa still looked apathetic and disinterested at the unfolding events in front of him. But he knew that upon hearing Takemichi’s resolute words and clear objectives, it made him want to laugh at his idiotic brazenness yet he can’t tear his eyes away from the compelling beauty of his bravery hiding underneath his gawky and jittery appearance.

His bored gaze slide through Senju who whispered something to Takemichi that made the blond shaken not out of fear but out of surprise and incredulity.

Senju can be that dramatic sometimes. Nevertheless, Wakasa narrowed his eyes at their proximity and the blond’s flustered reaction towards him, making him fold his arms across his chest and lips turned into a thin line.

He’s not the only one who can make him feel like that.

After watching Terano and Draken’s anticlimactic end of almost brawling with each other with a bored expression on his face, Wakasa sauntered towards Takemichi’s direction who’s panicking again at the thought of cops making their way to them.

It’s both exasperating and amusing really. His reaction is akin to an ordinary citizen living here. He’s definitely an oddball to their world of delinquency.

“Yo, Takemichi.” He drawled out lazily as he played on the lollipop stick at the side of his mouth.

“Oh, h-hey.” Takemichi smiled nervously at him.

“You got some guts making a speech like that earlier. You busted your head or something?” He tilted his head to the side and looked at him casually.

“Ah, that one. I guess it can’t be helped since I’m not exactly sure on how to de-escalate the situation without resorting to something crazy.” Takemichi rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

Wakasa put both of his hands into his pockets before he leaned closer and looked at him straight in the eye. “Hmm. Just to let you know Takemichi, our goal is still to get you onboard before anything else and we won’t give that up easily until you say yes got it?” His penetrating gaze bored into his soul.

“W-well you s-see—.”

“We’re leaving too!” Akashi announced loudly, making Takemichi stopped midsentence as it caught his attention.

“Tch.” Wakasa stepped away and flashed him a lazy smirk before he turned around and retreated back with Akashi and the other members of their gang.

Takemichi swallowed thickly and watched Wakasa go away with wide eyes.

What the hell was that all about?

That guy’s a damn ninja. Takemichi swears that one day he’ll have a heart attack just because of Wakasa sneaking up on him.

Wakasa is the epitome of trouble and silent disaster but Takemichi couldn’t bring himself to backed away from him completely.

And why is that?

Was it because of his laidback yet strong stature? His lazy yet sinister voice? Or was it those eyes that could penetrate his soul and bring him into a void?

“Takemitchy! Inupi! We’re leaving as well!” Draken called over their attention, cutting off his wandering thoughts and raced back towards Draken and his motorcycle.

For now, Takemichi decided not to think too much about his encounters with the powerful members of the Brahman as he had more pressing matters that he needed to focus on such as Draken suddenly dropping a verbal bomb in front of him while they we’re driving away.

“Takemitchy, I’m sorry. There’s something big I gotta tell you. I’m currently a member of the Brahman.”

Takemichi’s thoughts grinded into a screeching halt and stared at him like he had grown two heads.

“Huh?”

It wasn’t even the end of the day and the unexpected turn of events kept surprising him.

Nevertheless, he knew that Draken’s got a lot of explaining to do and he’d welcome it no matter how long it was.

(A/N: I don’t own any of these characters from this franchise. Inspired by the events in chapter 214 of the manga. Or in another chapter of Takemichi’s harem and the boys fighting over him lmao. Takemichi had enough of them fighting and laying his individual rights thick on the ground like the cute badass he is. Senju and the others are in pure awe of him. Draken defending our crybaby hero like the great knight he is. Reviews are amusing. So, let me hear them from you.)

[anna-pixie]

safe passge -> the witcher {part two}

I will be uploading this to AO3 soon... I’ve never posted on there before so I’m just figuring it out!

Read part one here

Summary: Geralt deals with having you and Jaskier annoying him on the road. You stop at an inn and make a new friend.

Pairings: Geralt of Rivia x Reader

Warnings: None

“So… day three on the road. How is the princess coping?” 

“The princess will murder the bard with his own lute should he decide to keep calling her the princess.”

Jaskier raises his hands in defence and you shoot him a sickly sweet smile, revelling in how easily you can get to him. Your friendship with the bard has developed quickly over the three days you’ve been on the road, it seems as though the two of you are cut from the same cloth - personality wise that is. Geralt, bless his soul, thought he had it rough when he travelled only with Jaskier - now there are two of you. 

“It’s not very becoming of you to threaten a life, princess.” Geralt hums, commenting on the incessant insults thrown between you and Jaskier. 

You send the large man a glare out of the corner of your eye, fighting the smile that threatens to show as he meets your gaze with a smirk of his own. 

No. You have to remind yourself, you are not attracted to the Witcher. The large, scary Witcher who could kill you with his bare hands if he wanted to. Your mind flashes with the inappropriate thought of his large hands around your neck, your life in his hands while he looks at you with those hypnotic eyes. 

Your cheeks flush and your eyes dart around quickly, the horrifying thought that Geralt may be able to read minds as part of his Witcher-ness scares you. 

“Jaskier… psst.” You hiss, trying to subtly get the attention of the bard who is humming a tune to himself as he skips just behind Geralt. 

You’re in a small town surrounded by nothing but forest, making your way to the local inn from where you left the carriage at the edge of the dense greenery. 

“Yes m’lady?”

“Geralt can’t… read minds… can he?”

Jaskier chuckles at your fear, his quizzical gaze pinning you for a moment before he cackles, “Oh! This is golden! Has someone been having some less than innocent thoughts about the big bad Witcher?”

“Shut up, Jaskier!” You squeal, slapping the bard harshly on his upper arm. He winces, sprinting back towards Geralt with cries that you’re attacking him. The white haired man turns his head to face you, his eyebrows raised exasperatedly. You respond with a pout, an innocent gaze his way through your lashes. You only receive a clenched jaw in response before he turns, hitting Jaskier on his arm in the same place you did. 

A chuckle escapes your lips as he wails in pain. Sure, your little slap probably stung a bit - but Geralt did not hold back. He will probably have a bruise there soon. The inn enters your vision, and your sore muscles practically cry out in relief. 

As you enter the establishment, you realise that you probably look quite the sight. First, the lilac adorned bard clutching his arm in pain, followed by the hulking Witcher, swords at the ready behind his back, and then you - in your pretty pink dress with your favourite necklace. 

Certainly a motley crew, you wonder what the patrons are assuming when they see you. Do they guess correctly? That your parents paid the Witcher and his bard to escort you to your new home? Or do they assume wrong? Perhaps they think you’ve been kidnapped, held against your will by the big, scary white wolf.

Geralt doesn’t seem phased by the stares, thudding over to a table in the far corner of the room, lowering himself onto the wooden bench with a groan. Jaskier orders the three of you a round of ale and meat with all the trimmings and a side of potatoes. 

“I’m not hungry.” You mumble as you observe the sloppy food the inn keeper throws before you, “I’ll save it, take it back for the carriage driver.”

“We’re not leaving here until you eat everything on that plate, princess.” Geralt doesn’t even look at you as he speaks, tearing a chunk of meat straight from the bone and chewing harshly. You cringe slightly at his brutish manners. 

“No, thank you.”

“I wasn’t asking, princess.” There’s a new edge to his voice now, a no nonsense tone that non-verbally tells you that you’d better start eating right now, or else. 

“Oh, don’t use your scary voice on her, Geralt. We all know you’re a big softie deep down.” The two men start to bicker amongst themselves and you snicker, reluctantly starting your meal. 

Being raised as a princess, you were expected to be prim and proper at all times. That meant having immensely smaller portions of food to your male counterparts, so having a large meal - the same as the two men - is foreign to you. 

You eat as much as you can, about half of the plate, before you start to feel full. Your eyes light up as you recall passing a beggar on your way to the inn. Deciding then that you’ll spare some of your own coin to buy the carriage driver his own meal, you ask the inn keeper if he can wrap up the remnants of your food in some cloth. 

“I hope you’re saving that for later.” Geralt comments once you’ve ordered another meal for the driver. 

You take a beat to reply, debating whether to tell him the truth, “Of course I am.” You lie, a sickly sweet smile gracing your lips. 

“Hmm.”

A while later, whilst Geralt and Jaskier are having a hushed conversation, you attempt to drink some of your ale. This is another first for you too, never having had a sip of any sort of alcoholic beverage before. 

Deciding that the best option is to go all in, you take a huge gulp of the brown liquid, regretting it instantly as you spit it all back onto the wooden table, choking and gasping as your throat burns.

You exchange an embarrassed, wide eyed look with Geralt and Jaskier, and there is a long moment of silence before they start to laugh. Yes, properly laughing. You’d expected it from Jaskier, but the deep peels of laughter that rumble from the Witcher take you by surprise. 

“Oh! That was just priceless!” Jaskier wails, and you can’t quite tell whether he is pretending to wipe the tear out of his eye or if he is actually crying. 

“Shut up.” You grumble, your face flush with embarrassment. Jaskier’s laughs fade in mere chuckles and Geralt just observes you quietly, a smile still tugging slightly on the corner of his mouth.

“Excuse the question, Geralt, but I don’t quite understand the carriage driver's insistence on sleeping in the carriage. Surely he can find a safe place to leave it for a night?” 

“Princess, his whole livelihood rests on that carriage. If it goes, he’s done for. Not worth the risk for a comfortable night, I’d assume.”

“Oh.” You hate how frequently you’re reminded of the fact that you’re utterly clueless about anything outside of your luxurious lifestyle. You’re pretty sure that this will change during your month on the road, you’ve already experienced so many things you had never even imagined, “May I be excused to deliver his meal to him? I’m sure he’d appreciate some warm food.” 

Geralt doesn’t answer, he just pins you with that annoying stare once more. Yes, annoying, that’s what you’re telling yourself. 

“Of course you can, Y/N, excuse Geralt’s lack of brain cells that stop him from keeping up with a simple conversation.”

The Witcher’s arm darts out and before you even see what has happened, Jaskier is once again gasping in pain. 

“You’re in no place to give such permission, bard,” He sends a side-eyed glare to the bard who grips his arm with a dark look in his eyes, “You’ve got an hour, princess, any longer than that and I’m coming to collect you. Are we clear?”

“Crystal.” You grin, sending a thankful nod to the innkeeper who hands you the two parcels of wrapped food. 

With one final wave to an apprehensive looking Geralt, you make your way back through the town. Your eyes light up when you realise the beggar is still in the same place, you approach her carefully and your breath stills when you realise she is holding a small baby. 

“Hello there.” Your voice is soft as you approach her, and the woman smiles at you, although her eyes remain guarded. You notice she hugs the child tighter to her chest as you approach, and you can hardly blame her. It’s hard to know who to trust these days. 

“Evening, miss.” Her voice is tired, croaky and worn. She sounds exasperated, and it is probably something to do with your rather… glamorous… attire. It is not customary for people of higher standing to treat beggars well. You’d heard stories of the young lords in your kingdom teasing and taunting the poor beggars. 

“I picked up an extra portion of food in the inn,” You pause, wondering how to phrase this, “I was wondering if you’d like it?” Her eyes seem to light up when you show her the parcel of food, physical proof that you’re not playing a practical joke on her. 

You’re torn as you gaze at the baby, wanting to give the half portion that you saved for the driver to make sure it gets fed. Surely you can explain to Geralt why you didn’t end up going back to the driver? Plus, this baby definitely needs it more. 

“Oh, thank you miss.” The woman cries, her eyes literally tearing up as she inhales, taking in the fact that she is going to have a real meal tonight. She seems in disbelief when you hand her the other wrapped food parcel, telling her that it is for the baby, “Are you sure?”

“Yes, please take it.” You smile at her, beginning your walk back to the inn as she begins to cry. You stop, your mind screaming at you not to leave her there, and you turn back to the two with a resigned sigh, “Excuse me, ma’am, I’m staying at the local inn. Could I pay for you to spend the night there?”

The guarded expression returns to her eyes as she observes you, but she looks back down at the food in her hands and seems to realise that you’re not messing with her. She rises slowly, a pained expression on her face as she clutches the baby tightly to her breast. There is a limp in her step and you realise she has probably been sat in the same position for a while. 

She catches up and falls into step beside you, a silence falling over you as you think of what to say.

“What is your name?” You start simple, hoping you can ease her into conversation without scaring her away. 

By the time you reach the inn again, you’re laughing with the woman who you discovered is only two years your senior. Her name is Lettie, and she was kicked out of her home when she got pregnant out of wedlock. The father of the baby didn’t want anything to do with them, and left them to fend for themselves on the street. 

She has a lovely baby girl named Faith, who giggles away as you babble at her. Lettie giggles at the story of Jaskier almost throwing up over your anecdote about the scar on your leg, and you laugh along as you push open the door to the inn. Once again, you’re on the receiving end of judgemental glances from the patrons - but Lettie doesn’t seem phased as she follows you over to the table where Geralt and Jaskier are watching you with wide eyes. 

“When I let you out of my sight for an hour, I didn’t think you’d return with more people, princess.” Geralt grumbles, his harsh gaze fixed on Lettie and Faith, who both observe the Witcher curiously. 

“Princess?” Lettie questions, only just seeming to register the term Geralt used to address you. 

“Uh, yeah.” You blush, scratching the back of your neck, “I’m paying for her board for the night Geralt. I’ve plenty of coin to spare, why not use it for something good?” You ponder, gaining the attention of the innkeeper’s wife, requesting a large room with an adjoining bathroom, “I’d like a few jugs of hot water for a bath to be brought up, please.” You finish, smiling at Lettie whose eyes are teary once more. 

“Oh, Y/N, I don’t even know what to say. This is the most kindness I’ve been shown in a long, long time. It… it means so much to me, you don’t even realise.”

You place a hand on her thin arm and squeeze gently, “Please, it’s a pleasure. Would you like me to watch Faith while you have a bath? I can sit in the adjoining room with her, if you’re weary of leaving her with me.”

She seems to mull over your offer for a while, before finally deciding that she can trust you, taking the room key off you with a smile. 

“Please, take care of her. If she cries, she likes to suck on something - or maybe eat some food.” Lettie kisses her baby on the forehead and hands her over to you. 

Now, you’ve never held a baby before. However, extensive lessons in motherhood from your own mother have prepared you for this moment - you clutch Faith, gently cradling her head in your palm as you rock her slowly. The baby seems at ease with you right away, and Lettie heads towards her room with a relieved sigh. 

“Princess…” Geralt mumbles once more, and you finally look at the two men as you take a seat on the bench, still rocking Faith. 

“Oh, hiiiii there.” Jaskier coos, stumbling around the circumference of the table to sit beside you, fawning over the little baby in your arms. Her wide eyes land on Jaskier and she lets out a shriek of delight when he begins to play peek-a-boo with her. 

Faith reaches towards the bard, signalling that she wants him to hold her. You let out an aww and hand him the baby, finally meeting the gaze of Geralt who looks incredibly annoyed. 

“What are you playing at, princess? We can’t bring them with us.” His tone is firm, no nonsense as he refuses to let you break from his gaze. You sigh, scooting over towards him, trying to ignore the way your mind screams at you to get even closer. 

“I know that, Geralt. I was only going to give her some food and I saw her baby and… I couldn’t just leave them there. I’m going to part with them in the morning, after I give them some coin. I promise.” You look up at the Witcher through your eyelashes, your persuasive look has never failed before. 

He groans, finally removing his gaze from yours and clenching his jaw. 

“One night. We’ll be leaving early in the morning.”

You bite your lip to hide the victorious smile on your face.

*****

Tag list:

@over300books​

[evertriedsoywithyourpopcorn]

5 Reasons Roman Is Infuriating (And Why I DO NOT have a crush on him)

Chapter 5: To A Land Of Our Imagination

Read on AO3 

Chapter 1

Word count: 3471

Tw: Wounds, food, swearing

~~~

Logan planned the second date two days after the first. A picnic in the imagination, that Roman insisted on helping out with.

It took them quite a while to prepare everything. A red gingham print blanket in a field of many flowers on a hill, the sight of a rather giant disney-inspired castle in the far distance, mountains enveloping the horizons; very picturesque, certainly. He even offered to set up an orchestra off the side for them, but Logan declined. Logan was worried that they would get sunburnt due to the realistic touch that he brings, but Roman insisted that wouldn’t happen. And then Logan insisted that he didn’t know that it wouldn’t.

The banter was probably what took the longest time. It started with the back and forth about the likelihood of a sunburn, and then whether Thomas would typically tan or burn, and then it spiralled into nothingness. Obviously Roman made zero sense, but Logan was still determined to prove his point.

“No, Thomas should not get a surgical beauty mark. It’s pointless and expensive when you could have the same results with the smallest amounts of makeup.”

“But it adds character! All of the glamor girls have beauty marks! And besides, why put in the effort of putting on the beauty mark every day when you can just wake up that way?” Roman rebuttals, and Logan cannot begin to express just how stupid that argument is.

“A few seconds of a makeup pencil and maybe some powder isn’t that much effort. What would be an effort is spending a ridiculous sum of money on something he might regret and want gone. It would be a waste of resources for something thought of on a whim. That money would also go into the beauty industry, the industry that profits off of one’s self-hatred.” He argues, because yes, in a world where hating oneself is so common and so profitable, the most rebellious thing one can do is to learn to love themself.

“Makeup is also a part of the beauty industry.”

“It’s nowhere near as harmful and expensive though. It’s not just about insecurities, but also accentuating features that you enjoy in yourself. It also happens to be an art form, so I’m surprised that you’d even try that useless fact.”

Roman huffs. He’s probably not that interested in the beauty mark, but sometimes impulse can make you do stupid things. He does however look upset, and Logan hesitates.

“You know what you can do with makeup?” Logan asks, and they look at each other.

“What?” He asks, still pouting.

“Make many beauty marks. And change their locations when you feel like it.” He offers, and Roman lights up like that very dangerous chemical reaction Remus and himself attempted on bonding day.

“By the fourth musketeer, you’re right!” Roman touches his own face, lost in thought. “You could switch it up daily!”

It took a while longer for him to acknowledge what they were supposed to be doing, and then they were touching up the flowers (which is when Logan notices Bells of Ireland, sticking out amongst the other flowers, and assisting in integrating them into the green fields, like the flowers just popped up amongst nature. He believes Roman had summoned them around for him, and he can’t help but smile.) and then heading to the exit so Logan could get the ‘object of his affections’.

“Are you going to be in the imagination?” Logan asks him.

“Well, duh. I’ll obviously be out of earshot, but duty calls, and I have quests to attend to! Can’t have a realm without it’s heroes, right?”

“I guess not.” Logan nods. Roman’s going to play immersive make-belief then. Very well. That does usually help with Thomas’s motivation. Logan thinks of asking to join him sometime, and then decides that would most likely end horribly. Maybe Dungeons & Dragons would be a better solution.

He leaves Roman at the doorway, going to retrieve Patton. It isn’t very hard; he finds him in the living room holding a picnic basket and smiling brightly.

“That really, isn’t necessary.” He points to the basket. “We have food at the location.”

“What’s a little more? Besides, I have a little surprise to help with the planning.” He leans in and fake whispers.

Logan blinks. “A planner?”

“No, even better. But don’t guess. You know your old Patton-ership Person can’t keep a secret for very long.”

Logan groans at the pun, and they head back through Roman’s door to the imagination. It isn’t long before they reach the flowery hills (Logan wanted it to be accessible, to avoid an awkwardly long walk), and he sits down on the large blanket. Patton coos at the view, and the enchanting flower fields.

“Is Roman here?” He asks, looking around. He sets the basket down.

“He said he wouldn’t be nearby, and I trust his word, but he is in the imagination.”

Patton lets out a sigh in relief and sits down. “Okay. I just know he’d be mad if he found out, buuut…” He opens the petite basket’s lid, and like the objects from Mary Poppins bag sprouts Janus, arms held out dramatically.

“What is up losers? I’m here to foil all of your plans.” He lightly steps out of the basket, and plops down so they’re all facing each other in a triangle. “By making them better. You’ll thank me later.”

Although Logan is surprised, he isn’t really bothered. He’s quite similar to Roman in the theatrics, so perhaps he’ll prove to add ideas that would give life and a charming flair to his own.

“Very well.” Logan pulls out a notepad from god-knows-where. “Welcome to the ‘date’.” He does quotation marks with his fingers, and Patton leans excitedly to Janus.

“I think that’s what we’re calling it now. ‘Date’, but you have to do the thing with your fingers.” He does the finger quotations.

“What a lame concept. I love it.” Janus smiles. “I’m absolutely dreading spectating this ‘date’.” He does the finger quotations, and adds a little more emphasis on the word. At least he seems to be having fun.

“So. First step: The goal.”

“Find out if Roman really does have legs.” Janus answers at the same time Patton exclaims “Marry a pretty prince!”

“That was not supposed to be a guessable statement. And both of you are wrong. Patton, we do not have legal documents and cannot legally marry. The goal is to ‘woo’ Roman.”

“There may be or may not be a very easy solution for this.” Janus suggests, lounging back and checking his nails despite his gloves.

“What would be that solution?” Logan narrows his eyes at him.

“Oh I don’t know… Tell him how you feel.” He looks at him face-on, dead-serious.

“But… He most likely does not feel the same way. Besides, he wouldn’t like something so… Insignificant. He’s embodied himself after a prince, for Newton’s sake.” Logan argues, heart clutching painfully (metaphorically, obviously. If someone’s heart clutches painfully in real life, he recommends they go to a doctor and get it checked), and looking off into the distance, calculating the odds of rejection. He so far has not detected any signs or repercussions in the romance, and with Roman’s celebrity crushes being people like Adam Driver and Orville Peck, how is he supposed to compare? He can make a schedule planner less important than a social engagement.

“Oh come on, cheer up champ! I’m sure he’ll love it no matter what you do!” Patton encourages, giving him thumbs up. Logan looks at him, unimpressed.

“But will he really? These… Unnecessary feelings have rendered me even less functioning around him, so psychologically speaking, I’ve been even less perfect around him. He lives off the idea of a perfect, film-like life. Disney prince… Disney Relationship, Disney prince partner. Why would he like me? I look like a teacher.” As Logan continues his rant, now up and pacing, Janus shoots Patton a knowing look, and Patton eventually looks at him with an unknowing look.

“What?” Patton asks quietly, as Logan rambles.

“You don’t know?” Janus looks surprised.

“Know what?”

“Roman hasn’t told you about… You know…”

Patton looks at him, attempting to decipher what he means. Eventually, he quizzically does a limp wrist.

“No!” Janus whisper-shouts, exasperated. “Of course he’s gay. I’m talking about something else.”

“I’m lost.” He admits.

Janus leans in and whispers into his ear.

“Oh yeah! He has.” Patton gives him a thumbs up.

“I need a new style!” Logan turns and points at them, and they both display their shock easily.

“Dear god no. You’d look more out of place than Remus during the cosplay phase.” Janus jerks back, appalled. (Besting Remus in being out of place while he was in Thomas’s cosplay phase is nothing to roll your eyes at. Stripper Kermit is only one of many horrendous ideas that Janus has had the pleasure of being scarred by.)

“But think about it. You often see someone in a new light when they go through a big style change, whether they’ve changed as a person or not. When we altered our outfits for the first time, it was like a fresh new start. We were new, and more impressive models of our past selves of just three seconds before.”

“I see your point kiddo, but that just isn’t you! It’ll work against you in the long run if you try to be someone that you’re not.”

“Agreed. Seriously. Not to mention you’d be boring no matter what you wear; might as well be more comfortable doing it.”

Logan considers it. He nods, and sits down. “Alright. Thank you for your encouragement. I’m still not going to tell him outright.”

Patton raises his hand. “I have an idea.”

“Alright, hit us.” Janus looks at him.

“If you are to hit us, do it gently please. And preferably on the arm. I quite like these glasses.” Logan nods, accepting his fate.

“It’s an expression.” Janus side-eyes him, and gestures for Patton to start.

“How about… We leave the idea of telling him directly as an option, but also make a plan? That way, you have many options to pick from!” He encourages, looking like a parent bargaining with their toddler.

“That wouldn't be unreasonable.” Logan takes out a pen, and clicks it on. “Now, why don’t we start?”

By the time they leave the imagination, Logan has notes full of ideas. It’s a little bit difficult to have the best brainstorms without a literal embodiment of creativity, but both of them are bad ideas to invite for different reasons, and not being in charge of creativity doesn’t stop the rest of them from coming up with creative thoughts. (If that were the case, the same concept could be applied to himself, and it would have probably killed him by now if he were the only one with an ounce of logic.)

He steps into Roman’s room. Nice as always, if not looking slightly blank. Maybe he’s just used to the disorder now.

He rips out a separate paper, and leaves it on Roman’s cluttered desk, to notify him in the future that he is no longer in his realm. He catches a glimpse of other papers on his desk, and is that-

“Poetry?” Obviously, Logan does not want to disrespect his privacy, but he does read the line he has seen. It was quite good. It seemed to be about jealousy, but he’s not the best at deciphering emotions, so he isn’t completely sure. He also catches a few typos.

He stands straight again, paces a little bit and just as he's about to sink out, he hears the imagination door open.

Roman stumbles in, heaving and drenched in sweat. He looks dull and lifeless, until he looks at Logan. It’s like a switch goes off, and he looks like his usual self again.

“Heading out?”

“That’s right. The date just ended.”

“That’s wonderful! How did it go?” He asks, strutting over, trying hard but failing to hide a limp.

“Are you alright?” Logan looks at him, and the standard first aid courses that Thomas has taken in his lifetime start kicking in.

"I'm-" And a poorly concealed wince. "Okay. Just a scrape from the dragon witch. Nothing a happy pappy prince can't handle."

"That's not something you usually say." Logan squints at him, taking a step closer. "Did you hit your head? You're starting to sound like Patton. I'm not leaving here until you let me help you."

"Ugh, fine." He flails out his arms, and then jerks them back in pain. "But seriously, how did it go?"

"It went well. Thank you for the Irish bells. We discussed things that one would do in a romantic setting, and then we dispersed. There will be another date fairly soon. I just stayed to drop off a note on your desk to inform you of our departure."

His eyes go wide. "My desk? Did you read any of my writing?" He asks, sounding panicked, with a hint of defensive nature.

"I did, actually. Not on purpose, I'm sorry. It was a poem that I believe is about jealousy. I read the third paragraph. It was quite well done." Logan bashfully admits.

"Oh. Thank you." He offers a small smile.

Logan suddenly remembers the wounds. "Now. Let's get to fixing you up. Do you have any cuts? Scrapes? Open wounds?" As he sits Roman down and checks over his injuries, he can't help but hurt a little bit on the inside. Roman's self preservation seems to have left him a long time ago, and he always gets reckless. He can't seem to let anyone see his weakness, and that's perhaps what he and Logan have most in common; although, Logan hasn't been injured physically in quite a while.

He finds a first aid kit (in Roman's nightstand. How concerning.) and helps patch up his wounds. Thankfully, Roman wasn't fully lying, as his injuries mainly consisted of bruises and mild cuts, but Logan made sure to take care of them all the same.

"I just realized." Roman whispers, eyes closed as Logan puts a band-aid on his arm.

"That's a new concept."

Roman ignores that. "You've done so much for me over the last while. To be fair, you always do things for me, but this week... Teaching me how to bake, leaving out cookies for me, which were heavenly by the way, thank you, helping with nail polish even though it was on your bed, this... It's quite a lot. I feel like I haven't done enough for you."

"Oh come on, don't metaphorically sell yourself short. This whole time, you've helped me set up my dates with Patton. Many of them, in fact. I had been nervous to tell him, and you helped me the whole way along. I am quite grateful for your contributions, Roman." Logan chuckles a little bit, because although expressing your gratitude for something that you don't care about may seem pointless, Roman still put in all of the effort. He did the planning, the setup and design, and wherever he was needed, he'd be. Logan had heard that he even managed to convince Remus to keep the funky business away from the 'dates'. That's quite a lot of work, and Logan appreciates every second of it.

"Nooo but that isn't enough! I want to take you somewhere special to thank you."

"Really Roman, that isn't necessary-"

"Thomas!" Roman screams into his ceiling. "You know how you're free in three weekends!? Yeah, well you're going to a planetarium now! Bring friends so you don't look like a loser." And sure enough, he can feel that Thomas has got the idea.

Logan's heart metaphorically explodes out of his chest with how strong it's beating. Thomas hasn't been to a planetarium in ages. It isn't really Logan's role to suggest activities on the fun side, so he's kept to himself, silently hoping for another side to bring it up. They have spare money for it. And here it is. In three weeks from now.

"That's... I don't know what to say. Thank you." He clutches the first aid kit to his chest.

"Well duh thank me, but it's okay. It's payback." Roman gives him two band-aid speckled thumbs up. "Consider it a date."

Uh-

Hm. Well, there goes Logan. On the floor. Dead.

~~~

"More sophisticated and logical word for fuck."

Logan slams open Virgil's door, just as he's putting the last details on his embroidered spider web jacket.

"Dude, what?" Vrigil turns to him, only to see Logan laying on the floor, malfunctioning.

He goes over to the lifeless form. “Logan… You, like, never come to me with your emotional problems. I can’t help people. Do you want me to tease you? Because I can totally tease you.” He pokes him, and Logan rolls over to face the ceiling.

“It’s because I never have emotional problems, Virgil. I believe in you to keep a secret however.”

“Is this about the planetarium Thomas just planned? Because I can totally see why he shouldn’t go, with all those people around, judging his every step, and the chance of being separated from his friends, or seeing someone familiar and it’s just awkward..”

“No, I agreed to the idea. I had wanted to go for quite a while.”

“Does it… Have to do with Roman?”

“Of course it has to do with Roman. Even now, he is still the largest thorn in my side.”

“Apparently you’re a masochist then. So, what’s up with him and the planetarium?” Virgil circles him, seeming bored but willing to hear the story.

“He was the one who suggested it. In fact he said to  ‘a date’.”

“Ahh. So you are here for emotional issues.”

“It’s not an emotional issue. I simply wanted to tell you that I think it is an optimal time to tell Roman about my newfound fondness for him.” He sits up, and Virgil gives him a hand to stand.

Virgil chuckles. “It’s not bad to ask for help, Logan. But that does sound like a good idea, or whatever.”

“Of course it’s a good idea.” Logan says, hand bouncing up and down at a rapid pace. He looks like he’s sweating. Virgil squints.

“But you’re nervous.” He observes. “And you want to talk about it with someone.” He holds up a hand before Logan can protest. “Ah-ah. Don’t lie to me on this one. Sit down.” He takes out a chair, and then looks at Logan. “You know what, maybe not in my room.”

So they go to Logan’s room, and he explains his plans, and some worries, and Virgil nods along and agrees.

“By the way, have you been seeing the way Roman’s been acting lately?” After Logan seems to have finished with ideas, and they were just sitting together, Virgil speaks up.

“No? Perhaps. He did want to make cookies, which is odd for him, and he called me kiddo, if I remember correctly.” Logan recounts the last few days. He’s not completely sure. Roman has always been a slight enigma to him.

“See, that’s what I’m talking about. A few days ago, he came into the living room, and he was wearing a polo! If it weren’t for the colors, I would’ve thought he was Patton. And then.” Virgil stares at Logan, who looks impassively back at him. “Just yesterday, Remus told me that he dumped some of his posters into the trash.”

“Ah, perhaps he’s finally taking advantage of his wall space.” Logan says quite proudly, in a room where there are many cork boards on every left-over piece of wall he has open.

“No, you don’t get it. When’s the last time you’ve seen his room without posters?”

“To be honest, I don’t remember.” Logan admits. Virgil nods along, his eyes staring at him intensely. “Because I barely ever go into his room.” Virgil slumps. “Listen, Virgil, the concern is appreciated, and I support you continuing to collect evidence on this matter, however, it sounds like he’s trying something new out. I have no reason yet to be concerned.”

“Okay, whatever.” He gets up from his chair. “I hope you feel better, nerd. Catch you later.” He salutes, and just sinks out.

Logan continues to stare at where Virgil once was, thoughts jittering. Is Roman really acting that strange? He almost sounds like he’s trying to become Patton. Maybe he’s looking to renew his look for Thomas? He had been rather heart-broken when he misinterpreted Thomas calling him his hero. He also likes costume changes. Maybe he’s preparing something.

Logan hopes that Roman will be alright in the end. And that he himself will be as well. He takes a deep breath. He can do this.

~~~

Taglist: @crossiantgay 

[dangermousie]

Something Happened in Bali eps 1-2 rewatch thoughts

It's really interesting, rewatching this. God, I'd almost forgotten how much I love Jo In Sung. LOVE. I mean, I love him and his nervous energy so much that I don't even notice So Ji Sub, who normally I really like. (ide note - A Dirty Carnival was the best Korean movie I have ever seen, and what made me truly and utterly lose it for him - but it was so brutally hopeless, it made me depressed for days. Go watch!) Anyway, back to the drama. 1. I'd almost forgotten how unpleasant the two guys and Other Girl are in this, at the start. None of them are monsters (though by the end the Secondary Girl comes close, IMO, even if I end up feeling a repelled kind of pity for her) but they are all in their selfish shells - it's little things, like not helping Soo Jung with her heavy bag or treating her as an extra in their lives. Even their kindness is this thoughtless kind. It's funny because I am not sure if they change in niceness quotient that much (though both the men become much more desperately vulnerable, especially Jae Min) but I guess I get to know them so well and their reasons for being the way they are, I sort of end up not caring - I end up adoring Jae Min as a character, especially, so much. Even if he is the biggest trainwreck I have ever seen as a kdrama lead in my 15+ years of watching kdramas. 2. Soo Jung. I adore her. You could see how annoyed she is she is dealing with the tour group from hell (the other 3) but the way she pushes and carries on is WONDERFUL. So is her drunken camaraderie with Jae Min. She is in another universe from the poised, iced, controlled Young Joo. But it's interesting, she seems so (relatively) well-adjusted compared to the rest of them but as the drama unfolds, you see that this hard-earned cheerfulness is a facade and she is very broken too - between her and Jae Min, I am not sure, which one is more screwed-up. For him, it's his family, but for her, it's her poverty that has made her so. Ha Ji Won SLAYS in this role (so do the rest of the cast, of course.) She’s rough, she’s desperate, she’s grasping, she’s vulnerable, she’s irresistible - in other hands you would never get how two screwed-up, closed-off men would fall so desperately for someone so greedy, so grasping, so flawed - but here you are drawn to her vividness, to her joy, to her intensity, to her unique combo of sunshine and extreme damage. 3. You know, there are hints about her screwed-upness even this early on - the scene where Jae Min offers her $$$ for a one-night stand and she calls him a jerk (and you see by his reaction he doesn't even understand that what he said was insulting - he is puzzled. In his world, everything can be bought and sold, and there is no such thing as affection.) and then asks whether he is going to pay before or after. In her world, there is no room for the grand gesture, for throwing money in his face. She leaves only because he kicks her out (giving her money but not doing anything) telling her to buy her new shoes (hers are broken) and saying "it's not fun any more" (the first of many instances she really throws him off any usual ways he deals with things). And then she trips on her broken heels walking out, sprawling in the lobby, inelegantly grabbing and picking up money. 4. One of the biggest delights of this rewatch for me is contrasting in my head the way Jae Min is going to be with her later - utterly desperate and "brought down" and willing to beg and beg and beg, and the way he is now - emotionally detached, with all the 'power' on his side - I mean, contrast his propositioning her for that one-night stand and the scene where they finally make love, a dozen eps from now. Though she is totally rattling him even now - I love the scene where he first truly notices her - seeing her in the parking lot trying to fix her shoes, eating, and drinking. She is just so REAL and alive and immediate. No wonder he's caught (and then quickly looks away). 5. Jae Min's father needs to die in a fire after being slowly cut with a myriad of razors - the scene in his office in ep 2 where he is practicing golf in his office and Jae Min flinches any time the golf club is in his vicinity, and almost stutters, just - RAGE. Increased 1000x by what I know he does later. But I confess to being amused in the scene where he is throwing things at Jae Min during the board meeting and a flunkie keeps moving things up to him to throw - folders, bottle of water, so he won't run out of things - a definition of a brown-noser.

6. I love how oddly real this drama feels in its filming - people are not glamorized within an inch of their lives and there is no glossiness, no studied detachment, no appeal to coolness or w/e. It is what it is and it knows it. God, I love this drama!

7. (The below is spoilery for the whole thing) Bali has the distinction of having the most dysfunctional couple I have ever shipped. Years of therapy were needed for those two. Yes, my OTP was Jae Min/Soo Jung, despite the fact that the otp's end was murder/suicide. I don't care, I still shipped them - the ending of the drama is one of my favorite drama moments, in actuality - Jae Min becoming more and more unhinged because of his nightmarish family and then finally he believes Soo Jung just played him in order to scam money and ruin his family with her lover. He tracks them down to Bali and finds them in bed. Ironically, Soo Jung has just finished telling her lover that she wants to leave him and go back to Korea to look for Jae Min because it's him she wants. Jae Min, of course, does not hear her (and he is so catatonic at that point, I doubt it would have registered if he did hear). So he shoots her and her lover dead as they lie there. But while her lover is dead asap, Soo Jung has time to look at Jae Min and tell him 'saranghae' which is about the most awesome thing ever - she has never ever told him she loved him before, not through all his efforts to win her heart, not even when they made love. And now she is telling him as she is dying, because it's important to her for him to know before she dies - there are no games or conditions. And of course, Jae Min snapped out of it as soon as he shot and he is falling apart as is and then he hears her tell him she loves him and his face - oh my God. And he goes outside and kills himself and I sit there bawling and hoping his horrific family all have collective heart attacks and die.

Yes. I ship THAT. I don't care what it makes me. The drama makes no bones that Jae Min is beyond messed up - I am kinda amazed he is walking and talking, to be honest. His father wins the incontrovertible award for the worst kdrama father ever and if you know kdramas you know what a feat that is. The scene where Jae Min is on his knees in front of his father, weeping and begging to be allowed to have Soo Jung and his father beats him half into unconsciousness and then tells him it's Soo Jung's fault and he will go after her next and make her disappear and Jae Min is left pleading that he did not mean it and it's not Soo Jung's fault and he misunderstood? FLAMES. FLAMES WHEN I JUST THINK ABOUT IT. So his love for Soo Jung is no help - I don't think any woman could have 'fixed' him, and certainly the hugely messed-up despite her sunny demeanor Soo Jung, with her own major issues and fragility, was about the last person to do so. However, even if they could have worked out their happiness, with the help of some really high-priced therapy, his family made it impossible - in fact they turned the screws on even worse, not caring that their actions were plainly driving him into nonfunctionality land. But then - how else could it end with all the destruction and damage and desperation on both sides and his having no experience with any expression of love that was not entangled with violence. And in context of fiction, the OTP that has the potential for helping each other but dooms each other instead is my jam SO MUCH!

[withastolenlantern]

What do you think it was like?” Rafael asked as he hacked at the tough vegetation with his hoe, pulling the dense vines into a pile in the pathway. The soil was nitrogen poor, even when heavily fertilized, and the local flora had a fibrous root that was always threatening to choke out their transplanted species. The ground cover was too thick for the harvesters to handle, so the crops were still pulled by hand at the end of the wet season.

“Why do you always ask that?” I said, stooping down to the ground and dusting the dirt from the now exposed potatoes, gently brushing them clear like an archaeologist might some ancient, precious treasure. I pulled the tubers from the ground and put them into the cart.

“You don’t wonder?” He leaned on the handle of the hoe, brushing the sweat from his dark brow.

“I try not to.”

“Come on, Shan. If I have to have one more meeting about soil nutritiation, I’m going to kill myself. And you’re down there all the time…”

“We’re not having this conversation again.” I hadn’t come out to the fields looking for a fight, but I was always prepared for one. “Stop changing the subject.”

He frowned. “Please don’t start.”

“I’m just saying. The season’s almost over, and we’re not getting any younger.”

He put down the hoe and knelt down next to me, lifting another potato and cradling it. He looked at me plaintively. “I just… are you sure this is what you want? To spend your life toiling in the dirt? I mean, your father…”

I put my hand on his shoulder. “My father is a drunk, and he has nothing to do with this.”

“He didn’t used to be. He might snap out of it. Some of them do,” he said. “I’m just worried you’ll get bored of me, of this. It’s not a glamorous life.”

“No, but it would be our life, Rafe,” I pleaded.

“One more season. The bureau is due to review the allotments soon, and I almost have enough saved up for a down-payment on my own forty.” He kissed me gently on the forehead, then stood, and stared up toward the sky and sighed. “You honestly don’t wonder? What it was like, knowing what was happening out there?”

I stood too, matching his gaze. I put my arm around his wrist and held it gently to my chest. “Come with me. I have to check on him, and then maybe you’ll see why I’d much prefer to farm potatoes with you.”

It had been one-hundred fifty-nine years since we’d last heard from anyone outside the system. The Network had gone down July 17th, 2938, or at least that’s what the history books said. And that is only if you went by the original Earth calendar, which no one did anymore. With a twenty-eight hour day and a rotation period of six-hundred seventeen days, matching time here on New Caledonia to that on Earth was pointless. With The Network, information would take an interminable time to transit the two-hundred eighty-four light year and four relay distance between us; even then, relativity was unclear on whether there was any such thing as simultaneous events at these stellar distances anyway. For me it was irrelevant: the Earth might as well not exist, may not exist, and Sol was just a very dim star you could barely make out in the southern sky.

For us, it had been a normal Sunday, Wet Season 12, CSY 134. New Caledonia is an eccentric planet with a single landmass in its northern hemisphere surrounded by a large planetary ocean. Because of its near forty-five degree axial tilt relative to the ecliptic, the year is divided into two seasons of nearly equal length. During the Wet Season, the more direct sunlight heats the seas, driving strong currents that bring strong storms to the western coast. The moist air blows in and dumps copious rain across the western plains before climbing into the central mountain range that separates the continent, the only remnant of the clash between the two gigantic tectonic plates that formed the land we now call home. This quirk of a jetstream leaves the eastern plains beyond the mountains in a giant rain shadow, barren and dry. For this reason, all the major settlements are here in the west, and in the Dry Season, the ocean gyres cease and we hunker down for a long, cold, arid winter.

The rains were strong that Wet Season, or so the stories go. At first they though the heavy cloud cover and unstable air was interfering with communication to the satellite arrays. Minkowski Transmission provides a supraliminal link through the interstellar void, but it was still subject to the space-time warps of a heavy gravity well; we are forced to rely on more pedestrian broadcast methods to communicate with the Network Relays out in longer orbits free from gravitational interference. But they checked the dishes and the transmission center and everything was fine. Then they checked again. Then they waited until the Dry Season, and checked again. And then they waited.

We walked up the path to the main road where I’d parked my truck, and Rafe loaded the cart, only half-full of potatoes, into the rear cargo bed. “How is he doing?” he asked, hopping into the cab and pulling on his safety belt.

I pushed the ignition switch and the engine purred to life. The battery chimed a plea that it needed to be recharged soon, and I felt that deep in my soul in a way the inanimate vehicle could never understand. “He has good days and bad.”

“How much longer?”

“Too long.” I put the truck into gear and programmed the destination into the navigational system. It lurched forward, the tracks catching slightly in the soft, damp clay of the plain. “Honestly I stopped counting a long time ago.”

We made it maybe half a mile before the rain started again, at first light pricks ricocheting off the windscreen of the truck, but quickly growing to fat blobs that exploded with a violent thud. I opened the valve to the distillation unit on the roof and a slow drip of cleansed water trickled into my canteen. After a few seconds I closed the valve and took a sip; the water was cool and clear. I offered some to Rafe, but he demurred with a slight wave. “Do you think he’ll go back to his career, after?” he asked.

I shrugged. “I don’t know. At the beginning they said they’d welcome him back, but I think we all expect that was just a pleasantry. I’m… I’m not sure if he could handle it, now.”

We rode in silence for a few more minutes before he spoke again. “I’m not sure he’ll approve,” he said with subtle defeat. “Especially if he goes back to work.”

“He doesn’t get a say,” I replied. I reached across the seats and took his hand in mine. I smiled as brightly as I could in reassurance. “I’ve made my choice. This is what I want, for myself. For us. He can object if he wants, but what’s the worst that happens? It’s not like we can be further apart, not after what’s happened.”

It was several days into the Dry Season before the panic really set in. The original settlers had always known it was a one-way trip out here- four hundred years was a long time in stasis, and there was never a guarantee the planet would provide a sufficient fuel source to power the generation ship’s massive thrust engines back up. So like seeds in the wind humanity scattered itself across the stars, secure in the knowledge that the Network Relays would prevent them from ever being truly alone. Mankind might diverge physically and spacially; over time genetics and environmental factors would certainly breed out several new homo subspecies. But with the Network we could at least stay connected enough to share our stories, our art, our discoveries, and what else has humanity ever been but that?

The governor made an address and appealed for calm. New Caledonia had been self-sustaining since the beginning, she reminded everyone. They’d be fine. It was always a known possibility that this might happen, and the best everyone could do was to go on with their lives. The Network would come back, or it wouldn’t; they’d keep trying to re-establish communication.

The rumors started swirling immediately. The panel show ratings skyrocketed. We watched some of the footage in school, when I was younger; one talking head insisted it could be an alien threat, splitting us up before some pending invasion. There’s never been any sign of extraterrestrial intelligence even exists, let alone in competition for colonization, the other shouted. A third argued it was a sign from God, that humanity had outreached its grasp.

A popular conspiracy stream posited that maybe it was just New Caledonia. What if everyone else’s Network connection still works, and they’re cutting us out? The opposition party saw an opportunity and ran with it- what if the government shut down the link? On purpose! What if this was all a ploy to consolidate power and rule the planet as an oligarchy? The riots lasted three days, with violence and looting in the city streets before cooler heads prevailed. The government stayed in tact, and the opposition leaders were purged for fomenting insurrection. And thus was born the New Caledonian hermit kingdom.

“I don’t think I’d even want it to come back, at this point,” I groused. “Not after all of this.”

“How can you say that?” Rafe asked, incredulous. “You’re not the least bit curious?”

I thought for a moment. “Curious, yeah, I guess. But I don’t know that it would change all that much. It’s been so long. What if it comes back and it’s just… too different?”

“Yeah but think of what we might be missing out on,” he argued. “It might have helped with The Rot. It might have…”

“Don’t,” I warned, feeling the threat of tears welling my eyes.

For one-hundred fifty-nine orbits we’d tended our flocks and tilled our soils alone. Without a broader knowledge base, technological progress slowed. In CSY 204 a plague came, some meta-organic compound released from a pit mine dug too deep. The Rot claimed thirteen percent of the population before we could quarantine it out. When I was nine they finally found a way to inoculate against it. I remembered wincing at the shot as my father looked on, relief evident in his face that I’d be spared the fate that had claimed so many lives, including my mothers.

Maybe Rafe was right; maybe someone out beyond the stars might have helped us avoid that tragedy. And maybe someone here might know or do something that could save lives elsewhere. But in the years since the Network went down, we’d persevered, raised generations on our own. And inevitably just like Rafael they would stare up at the night sky with the same wonder as those before. And then they’d also ask about the abandoned broadcast center in the empty valley beyond the outskirts of the main settlement, grown over with the local moss-analogue from years of disuse.

The truck crested a small hill, the tracks struggling for purchase in the mud as they pulled the vehicle over the incline, and we looked down into the valley where that broadcast center sat. Every two years an adult was selected by random lot to man the station, in the increasingly unlikely event communication with the Network was re-established. The government called it “The Receiver” in an effort to present it as some important position, but everyone knew it was a joke. It came with no real benefits, just a small stipend and the obligation of a community. We all prayed at the Harvest Festival that our number would not be drawn from the bowl.

My father was a proud man, an engineer who helped manage the settlement’s geothermal power station. His luck had run out eight-hundred sixty-three days ago. He swore up and down that the lottery was rigged; that the government thought him being a technical expert instead of a field-hand, that the fact that his wife was gone and his children all grown, made him expendable. He might have been right, but that didn’t absolve him the responsibility. So he’d resigned himself, and us with him, to the doldrums of minding an interface that may never come back online.

He read a book a day, or at least he claimed, and while the library did have a fair amount of humanity’s literary efforts prior to the cutoff, their plots and concerns were divorced from life here on the frontier. He took up drinking, inevitably, as did everyone else assigned to the posting. What they don’t tell you when your name is pulled from the bowl is that the sacrifice is not yours alone- the burden is your family’s to bear. My brother’s and I took turns minding him, bringing him food and checking on his mental well-being but they all had families of their own now, and I was desperate to start mine too. We were all ready to move on, and I hoped by bringing Rafael with me he could see that I was serious about starting our life together.

We pulled up outside the comms center and dismounted from the truck.

“Hang on a second,” Rafe said. “I want to talk to him.”

I looked at him quizzically.

“Just… let me do this, okay?”

I smiled and kissed his cheek gently. He went inside while I unloaded a tote filled with fresh fruits and a sandwich I’d laced with some amphetamines to help keep him lucid. The interior of the building was dark; the lights hard burned out several months ago and no one from the government could be bothered to maintain the place on any expedited time scale. I brushed some of the local vines from the threshold of the entryway as I entered. “Dad? It’s Shan. I brought some food.”

As I passed from the mottled grey sunlight outside to the dark interior I could make out blurry figures backlit by the eerie glow of his reading lamp.. They were both standing, which was odd. Dad was usually in the chair when I visited, most of the time asleep.

Rafe emerged suddenly from the shadows and grabbed me by the shoulders. “Shan. Stop.”

“What is it?” I asked, taken aback. “Is everything okay?”

“It’s… here. Let’s go outside.” He pulled me gently but forcefully toward the door.

“What the fuck, Rafe, stop it. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“It’s your dad. He…”

I shoved Rafael out of the way and stepped forward into the comm station. My father came into clearer focus, and I could tell immediately something wasn’t right. I came closer and dropped the basket to the floor in shock. His body hung limply, his feet swaying gently five centimeters from the floor. A length of electrical cord, half-stripped from the wall behind him, was wound tightly around his neck. I grabbed his feet and lifted, crying. “No no no no no, dad, fuck.” I pushed and contorted his body, trying to free him but to no avail. Tears were streaming down my face now, hot and wet.

I pulled a short table across the concrete floor and climbed up onto it, my vision blurred with anger and fear and sobs. I yanked at the cable, trying to unwind it, to free his body. I pulled and wrenched and screamed in desperation, banging on the overhead truss that supported it until I nearly broke my hand. I collapsed onto him, my hands around his shoulders, my face against his chest. His skin was cold and pallid. I was too late to save him.

“Shan.” Rafael stood in the entryway to the station. He offered his hand I took it gingerly, climbing down from the table and following him outside. He pulled me in close as I wailed. “I’m so sorry. I don’t…”

I pulled Rafe to the ground and cried for another few minutes, my chest heaving with agony. “It’s not your fault,” I whispered finally.

“It’s not yours either. You did the best you could.”

“I know.” I pulled the sleeve of my jumper up over my hand and wiped my eyes. “I think a part of me knew it would always end like this. It has so many times before. In a way it might be… I don’t know. Better? I’d always worried about what he would be like after.”

I gulped in air as my breathing stabilized. “Come help me get him down?”

“Sure,” he said, mustering a weak smile.

We went back into the station and looked upon him once more. He looked frail, fragile in a way he hadn’t before. Being alone this long, it just did things to a person. Rafael grabbed his feet as I climbed back up on the table. With Rafe bracing his weight I was able to loosen the taught cable and slip it free, and we lowered the body gently down to the table. He went out to the truck to get a bag to cover my father, and I stood silent vigil, until in the quiet I heard a strange humming noise from across the room. I turned and saw that the Network terminal screen was activated. “That’s… weird.”

I walked across and stood in front of the terminal, suddenly alive with activity. Rafe entered back in with the bag. “What’s that?”

“I don’t know. It’s not usually… on.” I leaned in close. “It’s displaying something.”

A line of dots and dashed appeared on the interface. “I… I think it’s old morse code. Dad had to learn it. I helped him practice.”

“What’s it say?” he asked, a sudden dread in his voice I didn’t recognize. I could feel my stomach welling up in anxiety as well.

“It says.... HELP.”

[pocketramblr]

im going to be so fucking predictable right now but, for a prompt... how about some momnight

 I'm going to do my Very Best at this though I am very unpracticed with writing her so here we go!

---

"Alright, class. Today we're supposed to do a lesson that follows up on the interviews you did yesterday with Midnight and Mt. Lady. Which means I'm not teaching."

With that, Aizawa-sensei flopped to the ground. The thud was only slightly cushioned by the sleeping bag around him. A few students winced.

"Exactly!" Midnight said, shoving open the door. "This time, we'll be practicing a little more with cameras and a little less with talking."

Oh? The students all leaned in, curious and excited.

"We'll be practicing photo shoots! Come to studio 1-4, come on." She stepped to the side as the class got excited, and just waved Aoyama out the door when he jumped to go ask her a million questions, sparkling.

Toru was excited too, though she took more time to stand than the others. By the time she had, Yaomomo had already dragged the reluctant Jiro out of the room, and all that remained were Bakugo and Koda.

"Not going to be the last one there, I hope, Bakugo?" Midnight asked, tone of voice edging into a tease.

Bakugo grumbled about it being stupid, but he did hurry more out the door.

"And you, Koda? Nothing to be scared about, the camera doesn't bite." But their teachers sure might, if they dawdled- or interrupted anymore of Aizawa's extended naptime.

"Right!" Toru agreed, skipping to the back of the room to reach for the boy's arm. "Come on, it'll be a fun lesson! Better than a pop quiz, and maybe you'll even get to do a cute picture, like holding a bunny!"

Koda stared at her sleeve for a long moment, then finally nodded.

When they passed Midnight at the door, Toru looked up and realized the woman's smile had slipped a little; she looked thoughtful, brow furrowed behind her glasses.

The smile came back quickly though, as she tugged the door closed behind them and hurried them to the studio where the class was waiting for them.

Haya-senpai was also waiting for them, apparently. The cool girl stood in front of a group of third years by the side wall of the room, where several desks and mirrors and lights had been shoved in a row. The rest of the room was cleared out, backdrops and green screens angled around with a few stools and props.

"Alright, class 1a, before we get ready for your first shoot, there are some things to know." Midnight closed the door behind her. "You can take notes on your phone, if you want. There are several different kinds of photoshoots. What ones can you think of?"

"Ooh!" Mina waved her hand and was called on. "There's magazine photoshoots, and if you're lucky you'll be on the front page!"

"Certainly, magazine shoots. What else- Yaoyorozu?"

"Advertisements, with products?"

"Very good, you've done some of that already, haven't you? Alright, what other kinds?"

Toru waved her arm, humming so she'd be more noticed. Midnight crooked her finger at her. "Makeup? Well I guess that could be a product too, but there's also fashion shoots."

"Right on, Hagakure."

The class was quiet for a few moments, and Midnight nodded. "There's other kinds too- a headshot shoot, some hero agencies will require them for an application or their site. Portraits, lifestyle, sports, glamor, portfolio- the point is, there’s different types, and different points to each of them.”

Tsuyu raised a hand, and got a nod. “Midnight, all the different types, but don’t they boil down to either work use- like the headshots- or publicity for everything else?”

“That’s not a bad way of looking at it, Asui,” The teacher tapper her cheek as she paused, “But there’s more than that. You could also be doing it for benefit of others, either like a charity calendar photos, or perhaps even as a favor for a friend if one of them asks for a photo op.”

“And if,” Bakugo spoke up, apparently at the end of his patience for waiting for an explanation, “we don’t care about that crap? Publicity? If we haven’t got any friends who just want to take pictures of us?”

Midnight’s smile stretched, just a little, like a smirk. “Not a bad question. Anyone else think they have an answer?”

No one spoke, looking at each other, then Iida raised his hand.

“Midnight-sensei! Regardless of wanting to do publicity or charity or not, an agency may require to and all parts of a hero career should be done as exactly as one can, whether or not you want to-”

Midnight coughed. “Not bad, Iida, but not what I was thinking of. Bakugo, everyone, consider it like this. Once you become a hero- before that, even- you are going to have publicity. You are going to have paparazzi. Your photos are going to end up in ragmags no matter what you do.” She emphasized those words with a tap from her whip to her palm. “But, you can decide how you present yourself in other media. Sure, you can go way underground like Eraser. Or, you can take control of your representation. Choose your own photographers, magazines, products, vlogs, anything. That’s why you have to learn how to do these photoshoots and other media courses.” She clapped her hands, and the third years jumped. “So, we start with makeup.”

The older students waved some of her classmates forward, and Toru pushed Koda forward so he’d sit.

She found herself watching them get makeup put on, holding Iida’s glasses for him while Haya mused with his hair. Next to him, a senior was marking lines under Uraraka’s eyes to make the lashes pop.

“That looks really cute!”

“Thanks!”

“Do you mind me using a bit more foundation here?” Another senior said, poking at Midoriya. “It’s not quite even, but some of your freckles are showing through still.”

“Uhh,” Midori said, eloquently. 

The older student raised his eyebrow. 

“Um, actually, its,”

“It’s what, Midoriya?” Midnight asked, stepping from out of nowhere to peer over his shoulder at his mirror.

“It’s fine!” The makeup didn’t completely hide how red his face went.

Their teacher met his gaze in the reflection, clicking her tongue. “Come on, what did I say the point of the lesson was?”

“Um, control?” Midoriya asked, then went “Oh.”

Midnight smiled, straightening back up.

“I’d like my freckles to be- to not be covered up. Please.” Midoriya was still red, but the senior just shrugged.

“Alright. I’ll darken them with this then instead, so they actually show well under the lights and all that.”

He nodded, relaxing back in his seat, and Midnight squeezed his shoulder before moving on, nodding at Iida before looking at her.

“Hagakure, you haven’t gotten someone to start makeup yet?”

Toru shook her head- and shoulders. “No, Sensei. It’s not like I’ll show up on camera anyway, so.” She kept her voice cheerful, but her smile faltered halfway through.

It was fun to watch everyone else get dolled up and decorated... but would probably be fun if she could join them too.

Midnight stared at her, and she couldn’t read the expression before the teacher shook her head. “No, no. You’ll still have to participate and I have an idea!” She took Toru’s hand, then led her to the seat next to Uraraka.

Toru couldn’t keep the startled giggle from bubbling up as she sat.

“Midoriya,” Midnight said, riffling through the makeup on the desk, “You heard Hagakure. What do you think she could do in a photoshoot like this?”

“Hm.” Midoriya considered it, but when he answered he sounded much more confident than he had earlier. “Well, she’s invisible, but anything on her wouldn’t be. You could play with elements like dust or sparkles to suggest shape in an interesting way- oh, if you don’t mind being in your hero suit, that is.”

Midnight hummed an affirmation. “There’s a lot you and your team could do with that, and body paint is a fun medium to work with.” She paused, then leveled an eyeshadow brush at Toru like it was her whip. “Only when you’re eighteen, though. What do you think, Uraraka?”

“You could use your quirk, you know, to shine?” The brunette waved a hand. “Lighting up in different places to outline you, maybe, it’d look really cool if you had a space-y dress or something with it.”

“Oooh,” Toru had to admit that would be fun. It’d need a dark background and probably a camera without a flash or something, but it would be a picture of her, using her own quirk.

“Or like, even a space suit or something alien!”

“As long as I don’t upstage Mina!”

Midnight decided on something, then turned back with a nod, eyes sparkling. “Those are good ideas. Now, I’m going to try something with eyeshadow on you. Tell me when your eyes are closed.”

Toru closed her eyes as asked. “They are now, Midnight.”

If the point of this lesson was control, she wasn’t quite sure that this counted since she was just letting someone else do it, but Toru didn’t mind. She had a couple new ideas bouncing around for real photoshoots, in the future, and she really wanted to see what her teacher came up with.

She’d been right, this was fun.

It tickled a little, when Midnight traced eyeliner all on the sides of her face, but Toru managed to keep her face still enough. Then came brushes and colors she couldn’t see, shapes she could feel but not recognize.

Finally, the touches to her face stopped and she heard the brush clatter on the table.

“You can open your eyes now.” Midnight said, moving out of the way between the chair and the mirror. 

Toru gasped, then stood so she could lean closer to her reflection.

Her teacher had painted elaborate designs over both her eyes, branching out like butterfly wings. They shimmered with many neutral tones, light and brown and pink between the black lines. A few sparkles were touched heavier on the ends, and overall they looked beautiful.

“Oh! Guys, look!” Toru turned, and Uraraka gasped too, clapping.

“Those look so pretty!”

“Right? Thank you so much, Midnight-sensei!”

The hero laughed, waving a hand. “You’re very welcome. You’ll have to work with the photographer to decide how to model it on your own though. Speaking of...” She checked the clock on the wall. “Fifteen minutes left! Get to pictures then washing off.”

She walked off down the row again, checking on the other students, though not before she squeezed Toru’s shoulder for a second when she passed.

Toru was beaming as she asked for a senior with a camera to work with her, and she ended up with a picture of herself winking- one eye open to show the full butterfly, the other closed to show the colors swirled on the eyelid too. 

It looked pretty, and it looked fun. It felt like a perfect picture.

[forasecondtherewedwon]

Scuffed Souls

Pairing: Midge Maisel/Lenny Bruce Rating: M Word Count: 2769

Summary: Despite her declared intention to go get herself a taxi, Midge can't seem to leave Lenny's hotel. Parts of it aren't so bad—the ocean view, the pool, Lenny. She could be persuaded into a little recklessness.

It’s the way he says it—“before I’m dead”—that has her twisting on the soles of her new shoes to turn back towards him with an equally twisted smile that can’t fully perk up to the uncomplicated amusement she usually feels when Lenny cracks a joke. It just didn’t sound like one.

And now she’s probably scuffed the black soles on the wretched, fine-pebbled stone of these slabs surrounding the pool of what’s otherwise a really rather sad hotel. He knows it, she knows it, and she can’t blame him for wanting her to come into his room, if only to liven it up for a few minutes. She wonders if anybody’s ever died here. Wait, she thinks, of course they have. It’s a gracelessly aging Floridian hotel. The count for patrons who’ve left unscathed is probably lower.

“Is that a long list?” Midge calls back to him.

Like the melancholy, reluctant romantic he is, Lenny’s still leaning in his doorway, watching her depart. Until a moment ago. Now he’s watching her stand here in kind of a weird realm: the post-date, non-overnight stay who issued a spoken plan to find herself a taxi like a big girl. She’s loitering. Then again, unlike at home in New York, you can do that here. Loiter your heart out. Cross that heart and hope not to die before you’ve slept with the woman whose martial status changes from minute to minute. Roll the dice! No, that’s Vegas.

Even from this distance, she can see Lenny cock his head in that way he has—playfully subservient as a child and publicly tactful as a monied, middled-aged woman. Some days, he could mirror her mother. What a gag that would be.

“Things you wanna do before you’re dead,” Midge explains with a tight gesture of her arm. Just the elbow down. God, is she nervous? She seems to be suddenly doing an imitation of Susie meeting Lenny for the first time.

“Not really. I think of somethin’ good from time to time and, of course, when I do, I can’t find the paper I started the list on and I have to get a new one… so it never really gets that long.”

“I just wondered. You know, how much time I have.”

“The length of the list determines my distance from death? This I did not know. Powerful,” Lenny notes emphatically, producing the same noncommittal smile from Midge. “I guess I better look harder for the next one I lose. Handy thing to refer to.”

“There’s that,” she agrees, “but also…” She takes a step back in the direction of his open doorway. The pool shimmers at her side. He’s right about the pool. Somehow, a pool at night looks glamorous no matter the courtyard. She hopes she looks half as good. “I wonder if there’s sort of an implication in there that—” Midge rolls a modest hand over the crassness she’d have no trouble blurting out on stage, no matter which of her relatives were in the audience. “—the quality of it would extend your life.”

He’s smiling wickedly at her. She’s gotten away with nothing and has no option remaining but to clutch primly at the handle of her purse with both hands.

“If anybody else told me that,” Lenny warns, “I wouldn’t believe them, but you I know to have been engaged to a doctor, and so I assume that any medical information you may have to offer vis-à-vis sex—” Spoken in a harsh stage whisper that nearly makes her (her) blush. “—comes certified by some type of professional board.”

“I didn’t say it was the truth, I said I wondered whether it were what you were implying.”

“Me? Well, you can’t trust that guy. Still, worth chancing, wouldn’t you say?”

Midge’s scuffed soles have brought her many steps nearer to Lenny than she remembers being in lucid command of. She’s slow-tongued as she stares at his impish expression. Flat-out flustered when he tips his head back with a smile to rest it on the doorframe.

“In there?” she asks with eyebrows arching like the next stop on this tour is St. Louis. She points sideways, where his bedside lamp glows. “On one hand, eternal life—on the other, whatever diseases are living in those sheets.”

“Oh, they’re very well mannered,” Lenny assures her with a casual brushing aside motion. “We split the rent fifty-fifty.”

“Hmm, then I’m not sure there’s room for me in that scenario.”

“The shower’s not bad,” he counters.

“Water pressure?”

“No, cleanliness. Haven’t you ever—” He employs the hand roll she should patent if it looks like that when she does it. Elegant. Prudent. Half what she wants to be and the other half what she has no hope of becoming. “—in a shower?”

Because Lenny’s looking at her like she’ll either sidestep (metaphorically—the shoes have suffered enough these past few minutes without risking anything more than a regular forward walk) or say no, she takes very great pleasure in smiling devilishly back at him.

“A shower sounds luxurious. Never done it in a bathroom with a shower before. You look scandalized,” Midge notes. “Do the diners in your neighbourhood have showers in their ladies’ rooms?”

“You had sex in a diner bathroom? I’m impressed,” he allows.

“Thank you. I needed that. I carry every compliment about the encounter back to my closet and console my wedding dress with it. Poor thing never did look the same after rubbing up against those walls.”

“Is this in your act?” Lenny demands, leaning towards her earnestly. “Why haven’t I heard this?”

“Put it in my act? Lenny, please. I’m a lady.”

“Hence the ladies’ room, I suppose.”

She giggles lightly with her lips pressed together. He earned that last line. Set her face on fire to get there, so she’ll let him have it. Speaking of letting him have it. Midge finds herself dropping her eyes so they don’t get into their second intense staring contest of the night. Can’t look straight ahead, can’t look to the right because that’s where his room is and the bed is highly prominent. Almost too eager. The bed is the bump in the front of a virgin’s pants on prom night when his date’s skirt brushes a little too close as they dance. Those crazy kids. Oh, to be young.

Midge looks left.

“The ocean,” she observes, and says, like an idiot. She even does another fucking gesture towards it, like he’d miss it somehow. “It’s… big.” Clever. Real sharp.

“Bigger than in New York? I think so too. Alligators though.”

“It’s ok, you’re talking to a fellow New Yorker. You can use the real term. Pre-handbags,” she prompts when Lenny gives her an inquisitive look.

He lets her have the wrap joke this time, but he’s more persistent about trying to catch her eye. She gets it. She is still standing here making alligator jokes when she was supposed to be in a car on her way back to the type of hotel it would be kinder not to tell this hotel exists. A hotel containing her parents, Shy Baldwin and his entourage, the boxer shorts Susie sleeps in and forgot to pack when she went to save Sophie’s ass. Hopefully Susie doesn’t need to cover that famous, demanding ass because she left the best equipment behind.

Lenny tosses his coat into his room and pulls the door shut, startling Midge.

“How ‘bout the pool?” he asks as he steps around her, arm extended to point. She swivels (damn, damn, damn, her shoes) and chases him. “You ever done it in a pool?”

“Actually, no.”

“I heard the pause and, trust me, I’m enthralled that you even had to think about it.”

“Did I mention I hit my head doing it in the bathroom? Pretty hard. All my memories before that day are hazy, so it’s really anybody’s guess.”

He gifts her an indulgent little smile and stops at the side of the pool. As she looks on, he removes his shoes and socks. Midge hears herself make the noise she makes when she denies Ethan a cookie only to see Zelda handing one over when she returns to the kitchen. The noise says, Is that wise? when her adult mommy brain knows for damn sure that it’s not. Lenny wets his foot and flicks water at her. The mommy noise had no effect on him at all.

“It’s nice,” he says, clasping his hands behind his back. “Warm.”

“Of course it’s warm. The air’s warm. Everything here is warm.”

“I hadn’t noticed.” When Lenny frowns, it’s tragic. The most tragic thing you’ve ever witnessed. “You see, I’ve been so cold since the end of our dance. I really may die if I can’t hold you against me.”

Midge tilts her head back and laughs.

“You’re worse than the guy I tried to scare off at the bar by mentioning dick jokes. And you’ll die? Really? All of a sudden, I’m the cause of your death rather than the agent of its postponement?”

Though he smiles, his eyes remain soulful. There really is something tricky about trying to be funny when he’s looking at her a certain way. She’s probably returning the look.

“Take a dip with me.”

“Why?” she asks, smiling.

“Because I want to admire you with that rose in your hair without the rest of it to distract me.” He nods down at her dress.

“My outfit is distracting? Terrific. Now I know I wore a distracting outfit on Brye Adler.”

Self-deprecating thoughts trickle away, accompanied by the gentle slosh of the ocean behind them. A rambling, improvised bit about what she’s wearing won’t change the fact that Lenny said what he said and she heard it.

“Are you going to call me a taxi if I keep standing here?” Midge asks.

“I had no intention of reminding you of that plan.” He rests a thoughtful forefinger against his upper lip. “But you do seem to be stuck. You won’t brave the room, but you also haven’t left.”

As though demonstrating how to do it, Lenny crouches and trails his fingers through the water of the pool.

“Still warm.”

He gazes up at her with needful brown eyes. The need feels equal to hers. She’s tired of being the only one needing.

“You have neighbours.” It’s between a question and a statement.

“Ah, they’re all either young and stoned or old and asleep.”

Midge makes a decision.

“Gimme your key. I’m going to change in your room.”

“Change into what? Do you have a bikini in your purse?”

She leans close to snatch the key he’s withdrawn from his pocket for the second time tonight and grins.

“Into nothing.”

Lenny takes a visibly shaky breath, not trying to hide it from her.

“Well, I’ll be here performing the role of guinea pig by stripping for any neighbours who may be watching. Should you hear wolf-whistles…”

“I’ll run right back out and join the audience,” Midge promises.

They smile at each other until Lenny tests the tension by loosening his tie. Her eyes drop to watch and she realizes she’d better go do what she said before he’s naked enough to make her lose her nerve. She hurries, high heels clapping on the stone.

His room isn’t quite as bad as anything she and Susie experienced on their first road tour, but it definitely isn’t anything to write home about. Not that he’d need to, seeing as this is his home ‘til Friday and likely beyond. Standing beside Lenny’s bed, Midge unfastens her dress. For the first time since Joel, she does it quickly. For the first time since splitting up with Benjamin, she does it alone. Beneath the dress, she’s cinched in pretty damn tight and she rubs at the red lines in her skin as she takes deep breaths that she lies to herself about—telling herself it’s the relief of being free of her undergarments. She lays her dress on his coral bedding. She positions her purse on his nightstand. Adjusting the rose in her hair, she slips her feet back into her shoes and dons Lenny’s carelessly-discarded suit jacket. Though it’s no beach coverup, it hides enough to get from here to the pool.

She spots the pile of his clothes before she sees him, head bobbing up through the surface as he slicks his wet hair back and swipes water from his eyes.

“Don’t worry,” Midge teases to his stunned expression as he locks onto her approaching figure. “The shoes are coming off momentarily. I know they’re distracting.”

As if he’s even aware that she’s wearing shoes; his eyes are fixed on her legs as though she’s an exotic species of butterfly and his gaze is a mounting pin.

“That’s all I see when I look at you,” Lenny says, arms thrusting to propel himself backwards across the width of the pool. He halts at the far side and rests his arms on the stones, chest above the line of the water. “One big pair of shoes.”

Midge shoots him a coy smile as she steps out of them, wary to avoid treading on his watch. That’s what gets her: his watch. She stares down at it, resting there, the glass face catching the light, second hand ticking away. Before they’re dead.

“Aren’t you going to close your eyes or something?” she asks, standing in bare feet, Lenny’s jacket, and a rose. “Or are you only a gentleman when it comes to sharing a cigarette?”

“For you, I will go through the charade.”

He places a hand over his eyes. His mouth smiles below it.

Watching him, she swiftly sits on the side, dangling her legs in the water. With tentative fingers, she undoes the first button on the jacket. His hand doesn’t move. She undoes the second. Nothing from Lenny. Jacket open, Midge shrugs it from her shoulders. As she pushes off the wall, dropping into the pool, he lowers his hand.

“Hey!” she complains, spluttering on water, but he raises both hands helplessly, then goes back to holding himself up at the opposite side of the pool. “That was a dirty trick.”

“I would repent if I could find it in my heart to do so, but I just don’t regret it.”

Midge laughs, shaking her head and treading water.

“By the way,” Lenny adds. “The rose looks wonderful.”

She managed to keep all but the very bottom of her hair dry and can feel the flower still tucked between the strands. Fleetingly, she thinks of where she’s supposed to be tonight. What would Carole have to say about a situation like this? Maybe Midge can be the one who knows how a situation goes for once, without warnings or tips. Just… living it. That’s how she gets the material for her act, which what’s happening tonight could never be part of. ‘So,’ she imagines telling a crowd, ‘I finally fucked Lenny Bruce. Plenty of people already thought I had, so I doubt anybody’s still betting on it, but if you had money on it happening in a swimming pool in Florida, happy days!’

“Can you see it from way over there?” she asks coquettishly.

“A little.”

“Seeing a rose ‘a little’ won’t do. Do you think Shakespeare only bothered to see a rose ‘a little’ before writing that line about how sweet it smells?”

Lenny shoves away from the side and swims lazily in her direction.

“What does yours smell like?”

“Pool chemicals, probably.”

“An underrated scent.”

Midge’s heart surges and her throat seizes up, tongue awkward in her mouth as he draws nearer. With the glow and distortive properties of the water, his body’s nothing but a blur below the surface, as she’s sure hers is as well.

“It’s like a forcefield,” he notes. “I get close enough to you and, it’s not that the world stops being funny, it’s…”

“It’s that it becomes somebody else’s job to make the joke.”

“That’s it,” Lenny agrees softly as they begin to slowly circle each other.

Gradually, they work their way over to where it’s shallow. Midge’s toes skim the bottom when she begins to uncurl her legs. Her body gets used to the weightless feeling of the water, muscles relaxing, but her heart beats harder and harder. Finally, she cuts across their circle and wraps her arm behind Lenny’s neck as she presses her mouth to his. His hand cups her cheek, then shifts, knocking the rose from her hair.

[jisungsmochi]

library meetings - l.y.y

(not my gif !) 

library meetings - lyy

genre: college!au, fluff (lots!), mutual pining from the beginning tbh

word count: 2.5k

summary: finals were quickly approaching. after running into the frantic boy in the library, and sharing a study room with him wouldn’t be so bad.

a/n: ahhh the summary is kinda bad but i really liked writing this piece so enjoy!!

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

you let out a small huff, in search for an empty table in the library.

“gosh why is this place so busy?” oh wait, finals were approaching, no wonder there were so many frantic university students. you were able to spot an empty study room, quickly pacing to the door. as you were about to enter the key code to the room, you felt someone bump into you. you gave them an annoyed expression, looking up to see who they were. your expression softened once you caught sight of the light brown bangs and glamorous smile of the one and only, liu yangyang.

“oh were you going to use this room?” he started off, pointing out the obvious. no words were able to leave your mouth, resulting in a gentle nod in response. yangyang sighed, slightly annoyed as he was losing time to study for his first exam. you could tell he really could use the private space as more students were entering the library.

“how about we share it? just study separately” you suggested as his eyes lit up.

“oh yeah that sounds good, ladies first” he cracked a small smile as he gestured for you to enter the room. you let out a quiet ‘thankyou’ before seating yourself on one side of the large table. yangyang closed the door, trying not to make any loud noises. he shuffled over to sit across from you, immediately pulling out his study supplies. you watched as his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“you okay?” he looked up at you, nibbling the side of his cheek.

“uh i actually forgot my pencil case, i was in a rush to get here” he explained as you listened closely. without any more words being exchanged, you handed him a spare black pen and green highlighter from your own pencil case. yangyang raised an eyebrow at you, wondering why you were being so helpful to him. he had seen you around campus a few times. you always had earphones in and most of the time, you were reading or tapping away on your phone. everybody in your year knew of yangyang. he was loud, energetic and seemed to get along with just about everyone he met.

“thanks...um” he stopped himself, realising he didn’t even know your name. you caught on to his ongoing confusion, finding it endearing.

“y/n” you introduced,

“i’m yangyang” he shot you another award winning smile, pulling his hand out to shake yours.

the next two hours was filled with silence, but it wasn’t as stiff and awkward as you previously presumed. yangyang would often tap his pen on the table top, which distracted you. he eventually caught on, mouthing ‘sorry’ multiple times. you also found yourself reading aloud, as it helped you retain information. yangyang caught on, giving you a look that said ‘are you good?’

“i just remember it better if i say it out loud, was i being annoying?” you worried as he shook his head.

“no no, i’m actually curious to your method. i might have to try it for myself” he assured you as he kept the conversation running.

“you definitely should! especially the night before your first exam” you started before shutting your laptop. “our time is up for using the room, unless you want to pay, and honestly i’d rather spend money on some food” you shrug as you finish packing away your things. yangyang follows in suit, listening along to you,

“agreed, we should do this again sometime” he blurted out the last part, not realising what he had just said.

“oh i mean, yeah sure. if you’re up for it! how about tomorrow?” you suggest, an uneasy feeling making its way to your core.

“yeah i can do tomorrow, around this time? here, take my number” yangyang wasn’t sure why he was being so confident with you. he did get along with everyone but he wasn’t usually the one to ask girls out.

you took the small piece of paper he scribbled on and placed it in your bag. you both exited the small study room and made your way to the entrance of the library.

“well i guess this is where we part ways” yangyang smirks down at you, part of him wishing he could spend more time with you.

“i guess so. i’ll see you tomorrow, yangyang, have a nice evening!” you smiled softly at him before pulling up the strap of your backpack and making your way back to your dorm room.

yangyang couldn’t wipe the smile off his face that night as he walked into his own dorm.

“dude what’s with the blushing? you good?” his roommate, haechan teased.

“i’m great. honestly, couldn’t be better” his friend gave him a look, confused as to why he was acting so weird. yangyang wouldn’t admit it, but he was secretly waiting for you to message him that night. he stuck to his phone like glue, mind completely off of studying for his exams. but you didn’t end up messaging him, only due to the fact that you weren’t sure if you were meant to. you thought the only reason he gave you his number was to talk about library meetup times. you were lying to yourself if you said you didn’t want to message him. but you were exhausted, you couldn’t wait for tomorrow.

//

you were standing outside the library doors, your thumbs hovering over yangyang’s contact name. you wanted to message him that you had arrived, but nerves were slowly taking over.

just as you were about to type the message, a figure approached you.

“hey there” yangyang’s voice rang through your ears. you immediately shut off your phone and look over at him. he was dressed in simple black jeans and a comfy black hoodie with a detailed dragon design on the back. you noticed you were wearing a similar outfit. a black hoodie with black jeans.

“h-hi” you recklessly blurted, yangyang gave you a soft smile, eyes scanning your outfit.

“dang, you really had to copy my fit, didn’t you?” he joked, causing you to make a fake shocked face.

“hey! don’f flatter yourself!” you teased back, leading both of you to the same study room. you had booked it prior to your arrival, avoiding the cluster of stressed students.

you sat across from yangyang, just as you had done the day before. he gently ruffled his hair, pulling out all his materials.

this time, you felt yourself shifting in and out of focus. the information just wasn’t absorbing into your brain the way you needed it to. yangyang could sense your frustration, unsure of how to comfort you. he watched as you rubbed your eyes, sore from staring at your laptop screen for what seemed like hours. you let out a short huff, eyes finally meeting his. he gave you a furrow browed look,

“you okay?” he practically whispered, still uncertain of how to comfort you.

“uh yeah, my mind is just going blank” you sighed, shutting your laptop. yangyang nodded along, placing his pencil down on the table before leaning back. he deliberated for a bit, looking back over at you.

“do you want to take a break? maybe go get something to eat so you can refocus?” he suggested, catching you off guard.

“but don’t you still have to study? i feel bad for cutting this session short” you honestly admitted. it was yangyang’s turn to be startled, you enjoyed spending time with him?

“it’s fine really, i can study more when i go back to my dorm. you, on the other hand, need a break. so let’s go” he hurriedly jumped up from his seat, packing his things into his backpack. you slightly chuckled at his urgency, copying his actions. as you exited the library together, yangyang began leading you to the campus cafe.

it had a range of sweet treats, as well as some basic lunch meals such as sandwiches and wraps.

“ladies first” he smirked as he opened the cafe door for you. you felt heat rise to your face, letting out a small ‘thankyou’ before leading him to a booth.

“anything grabbing your attention?” he asked, eyes scanning over the menu.

“i think i’ll just have a grilled cheese and maybe a chocolate milkshake. how about you?”

“i’ll get the same, actually” he softly smiled at you. he wasn’t sure why he felt so comfortable, going on a lunch date with someone he had just met the day before, he just knew it felt right.

“ahh you just love to copy me” you rolled your eyes playfully before pulling out your wallet.

“uh, i’ll pay, i insist” yangyang interrupts you suddenly, causing you to halt your actions.

“are you sure? i’m gonna feel so bad” you pouted at him, yangyang swore his heart was about to combust.

“i’m the one who suggested we come eat, it’s only right if i pay”

“alright fine, but i’ll pay for next time” you blurted out, eyes slowly widening at your own words.

“next time huh? i’d like that” he winked at you before making his way to the counter to order. you swear you felt your heart stop after he said that.

why did he have this effect on you?

you both enjoyed a chill lunch together, conversing about whatever came to your heads. it truly felt like you’d known him forever. the way he listened closely to your stories, eyes always locked with yours, made you swoon. he offered to walk you back to your dorm, in which you kindly accepted. it was getting cooler outdoors, you felt yourself shiver lightly. yangyang noticed, debating whether he could give you his jacket.

“are you cold?” he decided to ask first,

“uh kinda yeah” you admitted, blowing into your hands to keep them warm.

“here” he pulled out his jacket that was stuffed into his backpack, and draped it over your shoulders.

you were lucky to blame your pink cheeks on the cold, rather than the fact you were blushing.

“t-thankyou” you muttered, avoiding his eyes. yangyang just smiled at you, continuing to walk alongside you as you both jumped back into a heated discussion on whether cats were better than dogs.

“i can’t say much, i have both at home” yangyang chuckled, stopping in his tracks as you both reach your dorm room.

“aw that’s cute, i want to meet them sometime” you gawked at the image of yangyang playing with animals.

“yeah that’d be pretty fun” he smiled back softly,

you returned a similar look, eyes drifting to your door and then back to him.

“well i guess this is where i leave, goodluck with finals! i’m sure you’ll do well”

“fingers crossed, right? you’ll smash yours for sure!” he responded, really not wanting the evening to end.

“thanks yang, it means a lot. and maybe we can catch up after we’re done with all our finals? i mean that’s if you want to, i won’t force y-“

“i’d love to, you don’t even know how much i want to” he blurted, covering his mouth slightly with his right hand. you couldn’t wipe the wide smile off your face,

“see you soon, yang” you gently shake your head at how adorable he was. he watched as you opened your door, turning to wave him goodbye. he copied your gesture before turning to walk back to his own dorm. for the first time in a while, yangyang was excited to study and ace his exams.

//

after two gruelling weeks of constant exams and stress, you were finally finished with finals. the moment you exited the examination hall, you pulled out your phone to text yangyang.

you: hey! i finished my last exam, meet at the cafe in 15?

yang: yep! celebratory milkshakes on me!

you: you’re the best

you walked into the cafe, eyes meeting those of a cheery yangyang, sitting in the same booth you both did the first time you came.

“how’d you beat me here?” you sat across from him, before placing your bag next to you.

“just happened to be nearby when you messaged me” he shrugged, but in reality, he knew that you had your final exam today and was going to meet you at the hall, until you messaged him to come to the cafe.

he had already ordered you both chocolate milkshakes,

“cheers to not having to stress for the rest of the year” you exclaimed, clinking your glass with his.

as you both took sips from your delicious drinks, you noticed that yangyang seemed to be on edge. you didn’t want to say much, but he seemed more reserved and quieter than usual. you initially deemed it as exam burnout affecting his mood.

as you were both walking around campus, yangyang led you both to sit on a small bench under the large oak tree, in front of the library.

there was a short silence before yangyang spoke up,

“can i ask you something?” he murmured, almost too quiet for you to hear.

“of course, what is it?” you questioned, paying full attention to the boy next to you.

“i’ve been meaning to bring this up, but i really don’t know how. here goes nothing, i think you’re really awesome. and hella fun to be around. i like spending time with you” he paused briefly to look at your reaction. you stared back at him with doe eyes, urging he continue.

“what i’m saying is that, i don’t want to be just friends with you anymore. i wanted to know if you’d go out with me?” his lips pursed at the final words, uncertain of how you could respond. you hesitated for a bit, wanting your words to flow out smoothly.

“i like spending time with you too, yang. it’s been really fun, you’ve made me laugh more than anyone ever has. and, just between us, you really got me through finals. of course i’ll go out with you” you shyly looked away from him after you said the last part. yangyang couldn’t contain his happiness, he pulled you to his side, his right arm slung over your shoulders.

“i don’t even know what i was worried about, how could you have resisted me?”

he teased, ruffling your hair slightly. you rolled your eyes, playfully shoving your elbow into his torso.

“better start counting your days, yang” you retort, eyes meeting his.

“counting the days we are together? sounds like a plan to me” he chuckled, softly stroking your hair as you looked up at him.

from that day onwards, yangyang was no longer the clueless guy you’d seen on campus. he was no longer your unofficial study buddy. he was much more than that. and you couldn’t wait to see how the rest of your relationship would grow.

[fictionwordcounts]

Sweet Things in Bitter Places [Luke x Reader]

Word Count: 3000+

Summary: Being a barista on the coldest planet in the galaxy isn’t exactly a glamorous job, but it does have it’s perks. The cute rebel who buys a cup of caf from you everyday is one of them.

Requested by @racheltheclumsy

As you waited for the caf beans to finish brewing in the caf distiller, you brushed your hair behind your ear and stifled a yawn. It had been a long day with very few of the rebels asking for anything at your small coffee stand. There had been rumors of a lifeform somewhere out in the swirling snow that had gotten everybody rushing this way and that to do their jobs. It left very little room for stopping to get even just a small cup of the bitter drink. You watched the distiller even though your customer was behind you waiting in silence. You tried to casually look around, but it seemed to make the waiting worse. Finally, after a good two minutes, you turned around to Wedge Antilles.

"What was out there today?" You asked him, genuinely curious. "I heard that they might have found something?"

Wedge, obviously relieved you had started talking, chuckled. "It was just snow and ice today," he reported. "That's all it ever is." He shook his head and smiled. "Sometimes I think the generals make that stuff up just to keep everybody on their toes."

You laughed and maintained a casual conversation until the caf was done. The distiller let out a beep indicating it was finished. You poured Wedge a glass of it and added sugar and cream until he said it was enough. He placed a few credits on the counter and grabbed the cup.

"No, Wedge." You told him. "You don't have to pay." You shoved the credits back to him. He always did this and it made you feel greedy when he insisted you take them. Credits, of course, were of no use on the secluded planet of Hoth, but they were held onto in hopes that going back to a normal life someday was possible.

You put the currency in the pocket of your apron when Wedge refused to keep them, and looked up as two tauntauns rode in the open hatch door across the base, their riders covered in snow. The riders hopped off the tall, furry animals and shook the snow off of themselves.

After a while, Wedge called to the pair. You recognized one of the riders as Luke Skywalker as he ran toward the friend who had called him. He sat down next to Wedge with a big smile on his face. The other rider you assumed to be Han Solo, the "scoundrel" everyone complained about. The friends chatted merrily as you cleaned up around the small stand you had stayed at all day. Your job seemed so unimportant, but all the rebels agreed it was good to have something warm to keep their energy up. Noticing Han waving you over, you put the cleaning supplies down and walked over to see what he wanted.

"How much for one of those?" he asked, gesturing to the coffee Wedge was drinking. You shrugged.

"Whatever you see fit."

Han looked at her with interest now. "Anything?" He questioned. "Even nothing?"

Laughing, you nodded.

"Well then I'll take one." With his final decision he nudged Luke. "She's giving drinks away for free, Luke. You want one?"

Luke nodded knowingly. "I know, Han. Haven't you ever ordered caf from here before?" He inquired.

Han scrunched his face. "Caf?" he said sourly. He turned to you as you started pouring the drink. "Nevermind."

Stopping quickly, you looked at Luke and rolled your eyes. He laughed softly and offered to take the drink instead.

"You're telling me you drink that stuff?" Han asked him, surprised.

With a spark of mischief behind his eyes, Wedge answered him.

"Are you kidding?" he snorted. "Luke comes by here every day and drinks twice as much as any of us." He elbowed Luke. "Because you don't come here for the drink, do you?" he teased.

Luke laughed, finding a new interest on the counter in front of him. He stumbled on words, trying to say something cohesive. It caused him to turn beet red with embarrassment. You turned back to cleaning. Blood was rising to your face and making your cheeks warm. Wedge was always joking about you and Luke "having a thing" (as he put it) for each other, and you both should've been used to it by now. Still, you couldn't help but feel butterflies flittering around in your stomach every time he brought it up, but you could easily cover your nerves with the thin veil of a shy smile.

It was true enough that you had begun looking forward to Luke coming to the caf stand every day. He always showed up with an upbeat and terribly contagious attitude, and it was a bright part of your day to laugh and joke with him until he left for whatever work he had been assigned. Often times, he'd tell you the burdens of his mind–whether they were trifling small or unbearably large. You didn't mind it when he did, and equally as often you found yourself able to talk to him about your own concerns. Perhaps it was your imagination, but you both always seemed more at ease when either of you revealed your troubles to the other. You willingly shared whatever burden the other had.

You were subconsciously aware of Han and Wedge walking away while laughing to each other. You poured yourself the last of the caf and sat down next to Luke.

"They'll never let that go," you joked. He nodded silently for a second then jerked his head up.

"Come with me next time," he suggested. With one look at your face he knew he needed to explain. "The next time I go out there to patrol come with me."

Could you really do that? You knew that only a few select people would be chosen for that job, and a small, quiet, coffee stand attendant wouldn't even be considered. You liked the idea though. The thought of trying something new from your general routine exhilarated you.

"I don't think I can," you reasoned, trying to suppress the sudden interest in the idea. He turned more towards you.

"Sure you can!" he said excitedly. "I know Leia. She's my friend, and I'm sure if I asked she would let you." You tried not to be as excited as he was, but as he smiled certainly, you couldn't help but feel that it was worth a try. He set his caf down and stood up. "Let's go find her," he said lending you his hand. You gladly accepted and Luke guided you through the rebel base to find Leia. You turned into a small tightly packed room with flashing buttons and screens in every direction.

"I haven't been here before," you admitted quietly to Luke, whose eyes were darting around the room. He continued walking.

"Most of the rebels haven't," he answered. "They're always busy with this or that, but they can come in when needed." He stopped abruptly and pointed.

"There she is!" He jogged up to the woman he pointed to in the little space he had with you close behind him. The princess was standing with a man who was examining a clipboard she was holding. She looked up when Luke approached.

"Luke, I'm glad you're here," she said, relieved. "I had Garven Dreis on patrol duty for tomorrow, but his sickness has only gotten worse and he can't do it." Leia turned back to the clipboard. "I can't find anyone to replace him. Do you know of anybody?" Luke looked hopefully at you.

"Actually, I do." He nudged you forward. You stuck your hand out but withdrew quickly. How was one supposed to act in front of the former princess of Alderaan?

"I'm Y/N," you said with a quick and awkward bow. It didn't feel right, but, thankfully, Leia said nothing of it.

"Have you been on patrol before?" she asked you. You shifted nervously, realizing this might not work after all.

"No, I haven't," you confessed. Luke stepped in.

"But she is good with the tauntauns and the scanners," he stated. "I'm sure she would be a great help."

Leia looked you both over then nodded. "If you think so, Luke. I trust you." She turned to you. "You can take the north markers tomorrow." With that, you and Luke left the room.

"I guess I have my work cut out for me tomorrow," you said, relieved that Luke's plan worked. He grinned.

"Yeah, but you'll want some sleep. Patrols start early." You said goodnight, to him and watched as he walked away. You didn't think you would get any sleep that night, but you would try so you could see him tomorrow.

________________________________________________________________

You waited by the closed hatch door on the north side of the base with your tauntaun next to you. You had been given warm clothing to replace your casual wear, but the coat you were wearing was so bulky it was hard to bend over. You hoped it wouldn't be a challenge to mount your tauntaun. Many of the rebels were up already and scattering about doing their jobs. You looked around eagerly for Luke, but you hadn't seen him yet. You figured he must be at a different door than you were now.

"Please stand clear of the doors!" An announcement came over the speakers indicating it was time for the doors to open. Even though they said this every time, you felt embarrassed as you backed away from the huge doors. You spun around quickly when you heard another tauntaun approaching. Tauntauns were not quiet animals with their constant, strange chatter to one another, but they were very sweet and useful. Luke steadied the animal and smiled down at you.

"Are you ready?" He raised his voice to be heard over the sound of the opening doors. In response you nodded and mounted your tauntaun with the difficulty you had hoped would leave you alone. You followed Luke to the side of the base where he stopped and turned around to you.

"We have to let the airspeeders go first," he explained as he smoothed his tauntaun's fur. "Are you excited?" You looked out into the freezing landscape the doors had hidden just few seconds before. You were excited, but the weather on Hoth was not the type you go out and have a good time in.

"I'm a little nervous," you answered.

He laughed. "I can't say I was my first time," he admitted. "I mean, I was pretty excited." He looked to the hanger door as the last of the airspeeders left. He turned back to you. "It's our turn now. Don't worry, you'll do great." He kicked his tauntaun lightly urging it to go forward. Yours bleated and followed right after without instruction.

As soon as you were outside, the cold wind whipped at you angrily. You had forgotten to pull your goggles down and the ice blowing into your eyes made it impossible to open them. You would have gone back inside, but Luke was already far ahead of you. You pulled the goggles down and lead your tauntaun farther through the swirling snow. Luke had stopped at the top of hill and waited for you to catch up.

"Is it always blowing like this?" you hollered over the wind.

"Sometimes in the mornings, but it'll clear up," he assured. He moved his tauntaun closer to you and showed you the map he had on the scanner. "You can go east to where the north and east markers meet up." He pointed in the direction you would be headed. "When you're done with that it should be clearer. Meet me north-west from there. I have something to show you." He smiled and headed off to where he would patrol, and you did the same.

After you found the east marker the weather cleared, making it easier to find your way around. You took the cloth from your mouth so you could breathe some of the fresh cold air and lifted your goggles so you could wipe them off. You looked down at the scanner you had been relying on to tell you what was out in the snow. There was nothing exciting about it, and you wondered why Luke had wanted you to come with him. You looked off in the direction Luke had wanted you to go next. Whatever was over there was the reason. You urged your tauntaun forward who seemed confused about going in the strange direction but obediently trotted on. Finally you spotted Luke standing at the entrance to a small cave.

"What's this?" You asked curiously as you approached. He smiled widely.

"Tie your tauntaun up here and follow me," he ran inside the cave without waiting for a response. You suspiciously tied the loud animal next to Luke's and ran after him. You collided with him which scared you more than it hurt you. "Sorry," he said after making sure you were alright. "You have to close your eyes."

"Luke, what's this about?" you questioned him.

"Come on, don't you trust me?" he asked. You stared at him skeptically for a little bit before you closed your eyes. "Just be careful. It's a little slippery," he grabbed your hand and led you down through the cave. His gloves were stiff from the ice that made its' home there, but he made sure you didn't fall once. He let go leaving you standing there with your eyes closed.

"You can open them," he said from seemingly farther away. You opened your eyes to a beautiful opened cave where ice hanged, glistening from the ceiling. There was soft snow that lay thinly over the thick ice floor and mounds of snow that almost made you want to lay down in them. Luke stood in the middle of the ice with his arms outstretched to show off the cave

"It's amazing," you said, awed. You took a closer look at the ceiling and found large hole that was letting the sun in and making the ice glow purple. "How did you find it?" you asked, hoping he hadn't found it by falling into it.

"I thought I saw something come this way once, but it was nothing and I saw the entrance." Despite the beauty of the cave, you were shivering with cold. You rubbed your frozen hands together and put the cloth back over your mouth. "I'm sorry, you must be freezing!" He jogged up to you and put his arm around you. "Let's get you back to the base." You stayed close to him as he led you out of the cave. Once you were back outside, you were greeting by the obnoxious noises of the tauntauns that were waiting for you.

"How many more markers are there?" You asked Luke.

"Don't worry about it," he said, turning you toward him. "I'll finish up the markers. You get back to Echo Base and warm up. Save some caf for me, OK?" He smiled and started walking toward his tauntaun. You held his hand firmly until he turned back around. "Is something wrong?" You looked into his blue eyes, wondering what to say to him. You stood on your toes with your heart pounding and kissed him on the cheek. Your face turned red standing out against the white snow around you. Luke walked backwards into his tauntaun still smiling despite the loud bleat it made.

"I'll be waiting." You said as you mounted your tauntaun.

"I'll be there." He murmured in response. Feeling warm suddenly you rode back to the rebel base and worked at the caf bar while you waited to see him again.

________________________________________________________________

You waited anxiously at the north doorway for Luke to come back. You had already closed up the bar and made an extra batch for you both to drink to help him warm up. The wind was starting to pick up again, making the snow blow in. At the sound of a tauntaun you strained to see the incoming rider. Han Solo entered the base and hopped off his animal swiftly. You couldn't help but feel a little disappointed.

"Where's Luke?" You asked him. Han turned to you, just realizing you were there.

"He went to check out a meteorite that crashed near here," He answered before walking off. Luke was always very inquisitive. It made sense that he would do that, and you felt stupid for worrying so much.

The rest of the day passed slowly and still there was no sign of Luke. You had wanted to ask Han if he had seen him at all, but he was in a bad mood and ignored most of your questions. You found Han standing with C-3PO next to the Millennium Falcon. Before you could reach him He had run off to talk with somebody else, but you knew Threepio wasn't one to keep secrets if he was told one.

"What's going on?" You questioned the droid. He turned around startled.

"Oh, it's just that, master Luke has gone missing," He responded. "Nobody knows where he is." Your stomach flipped. You knew something had been wrong, but you tricked yourself into thinking otherwise. A hand seemed to be squeezing your heart with no mercy. You looked over to where Han was stirring up commotion to see him ride off into the hungry snowstorm waiting outside. You spotted Wedge standing by the open hatch door and ran up to him.

"Where's Han going?" You asked breathlessly.

"He's gone to look for Luke," He responded without even glancing at you. You sat at the base of the Falcon, feeling too weak to stand. Everyone was on edge while waiting for Han and Luke to return. The later it got, the colder it was, and the need to close the hatch doors was growing. The decision was final and the whole base fell silent as the massive door shut slowly. You buried you head in your hands. Why hadn't you said it to him before? You were scared. Too scared to admit it to yourself. You loved Luke. The three small words that had scared you into denial were a powerful tool you had chosen to put away. Now you regretted that. I love him. You thought over and over until morning.

A gentle hand placed on your shoulder stirred you.

"Y/N," you heard Leia's voice and you woke up quickly. She smiled warmly at you. "Y/N, it's OK. They found Luke and Han." You sat up from the hunched position you had slept in. It took you a second, but you processed what she was saying.

"Are they alright?" You asked hurriedly.

"They're alive," she assured you. "Luke just barely made it, but he should be better soon." You stood up sorely with strong protest from your legs.

"He's here?" Leia nodded.

"He's in the recovery room. He asked for you," she said with a knowing look then stood up and walked away.

You walked into the recovery room to see Luke sitting on a small couch they had there. He turned around quickly.

"Luke." You said relieved. Luke stood up quickly.

"Y/N!" He hugged you tightly. Your heart raced happily.

"I thought you were dead." You whispered to him with tears in your eyes. You felt him shake his head.

"I'm alright." He responded. "Han found me and looked after me." You pulled away from him and reached down for the cup you had set on the table.

"I saved you some caf," you told him. He laughed and sat back on the couch. You sat next to him after putting the cup back on the table. "You can drink it when you tell me what happened." You bargained. He explained shortly about being abducted by a huge creature whos home had been the cave they had been admiring earlier. How he had escaped you still didn't understand, but you understood all too much about Han having to stuff Luke into his dead tauntaun's stomach.

After the story you sighed and rested your head on his shoulder. You were just glad to have him back. Luke had always been a good friend to you, but you noticed the more time you spent with him, the more you wanted him to be around. The want turned into need as he became the only happy thing in the messed up world around you. He was much more than a friend to you, and you hoped dearly he would feel the same. The fear that he wouldn't kept you away from the three words you wanted to say to him from the beginning.

"You scared me," you whispered to him. "Don't ever do that again." He held you close to him.

"I won't," he promised. You hesitated as you practiced the words in your mind.

"I love you," you voiced, shaking. He rubbed your shoulders to calm you.

"I love you, too, Y/N"

[sepublic]

Gus Porter and Amity Blight

          It’s fascinating, really… Writing about Gus and the Blight Twins interacting, I realized more and appreciated just how similar Gus and Amity are, while still being different- Like two sides of the same coin! Which ties back to another post I made, giving Gus the elemental motif of Water, which led to my speculation on how this might character a relationship with Amity and her Fire (amidst Gus being a counter to Boscha’s Fire).

           Gus and Amity are both precocious kids, sure… There’s this idea that they DO enjoy learning, and have a family lineage they’re ‘proud’ of. These kids are intelligent, and they come across as confident… But admittedly, there’s a bit of loneliness, of not being heard/taken seriously. But despite having more family members, Amity’s loneliness was a lot more damaging and potent, and her issues of not being heard came from her family members dismissing Amity herself! Whilst with Gus, this mostly came from his peers, who were older than him anyway and thus had more ‘reason’ to underestimate the kid.

           Not to mention, Gus and Perry clearly get along, because even if Gus DOES have some insecurity, here or there… He IS a person and so of course he’s going to have ‘flaws’, just like anyone else! Not to downplay them or anything of course. But it’s obvious that ultimately, Gus is happy, confident, and self-assured, and he knows who he is and doesn’t have to hide it, or be different from it despite being an Illusionist… In contrast to Amity, who clearly isn’t happy with who she is, feels like she has to make up for it, and wears a ‘mask’.

           Gus uses his Illusions to bolster, to show off, and to enhance his own identity, while Amity hides who she is, telling herself to shut up and be a quiet and obedient kid who doesn’t stick out amidst the rest of her family, she’s ashamed of herself. Amity dyes her hair because of what Odalia told her, and she actively sees herself as someone to change and ‘improve’ upon, in order to live up to the Blight family standard… But Gus? Gus is happy with himself because the Porter lineage consists of dweebuses… They’re people who are happy with who they are, and they’ve transmitted the same sentiments towards their children!

           Gus looks up to Perry, but it’s a healthy relationship… He genuinely admires his father because of his own choice, because Perry was good and kind to him! But Amity, she looks up to her parents because they made her dependent upon them, they indoctrinated her… They made Amity base her self-worth upon their approval. The Blight name is a curse to Amity, a reminder that she’s never good enough; Whilst the Porter name tells Gus that whoever he is, that’s valid and he should be proud of it!

           How fitting then, is it, that Gus helps lead the rebellion against Belos alongside Willow and his father Perry, who seems intrigued by what his kid has to say; Whilst Odalia and Alador would never listen to what Amity has to tell them! Gus is the one who is reassured of his own self-worth, that he’s perfectly valid as is, by the Oracle Orb… while Amity still has doubts over herself, even if Luz IS helping her overcome this. Amity is of a higher-class, nobler status in life, she comes across as more presitigous as a top student and tries a lot…

           But Gus, who definitely DOES participate, is still a lot more talented, and managed to ascend a few grades when Amity couldn’t, and is still happy with learning at school. Gus’ life comes across as less glamorous, he had less friends with just Willow, and then Luz… But those friends ended up a lot closer and more genuine to him than Boscha and her group were to Amity. And in the end, Gus gained even more friends through Eda and King… And while Amity ‘lost’ Boscha and the others, she alsojoined in on the friend group with Gus! So they have each other in a sense, because actual friendships are reciprocal and two-way.

           They both had a passion for an extra-curricular activity that they were in charge of, too; Amity had the Hexside Banshees, Gus had the Human Appreciation Society! And both willingly ousted themselves from membership entirely from said group, despite their legitimate enjoyment of it. Gus and Amity did so because they ‘paid the price’ for hurting someone else… in Amity’s case, this was herself being too critical of herself for accidentally injuring Boscha and Amelia with the Thorn Vault.

          With Gus, he DID accept the consequences of his genuine mistake, and by doing so, allowed Luz to enroll in Hexside! Amity only hurt herself, but Gus ended up helping Luz and his relationship with her and others in the end. Finally, Amity’s departure was wholly her own decision, while Gus was somewhat forced to leave because of Mattholomule’s antics, and Principal Bump’s punishment. Either way, what Amity did was bad for herself, while what Gus did was a moment of maturity and growth!

          It works with how Water and Fire are polar opposites, but they’re also intertwined with one another… Gus is the ideal to Amity’s life. He’s not as extreme in his differentiation as Luz and her colder Ice, so there’s still plenty of similarities… Just as Luz reflects Amity in one way, so does Gus in the other! He’s an Amity who is happy with himself, who has a family lineage he can actually enjoy and be a part of, etc. The more I think of it, the more fascinating it is to me, how similar yet different the two are; Especially since Gus and his motif of Water provided unconditional friendship to Willow, in the wake of Amity and her Fire damaging the girl’s self-esteem.

          And while Amity and Gus have their academic skill and surprising ‘maturity’ acknowledged… Amity’s maturity is superificial, more blind and quiet obedience than anything else, while Gus’ maturity is real and applies to his self-worth. Not to mention, Amity’s ‘maturity’ causes others to not see her as a kid who still needs emotional support and has insecurities, whilst other people recognize Gus as still being young and needing help; But at the same time, they don’t infantilize him! Gus has needs, sure, but he also has a lot to offer. People generally seem more fixated on what they can do for him, VS Amity’s parents asking so much of her.

           Sadly, the interactions between Gus and Amity have been practically zero. I guess I can’t blame Gus, he’s seen how terrible Amity was towards Willow, so he might be reluctant to know her personally… And similarly, Amity is too shy and reserved to extend friendship readily, already has this with Luz, and might be afraid of disappointing Gus, amidst him having witnessed Willow’s abuse longer than Luz did. To Amity, who was likely afraid of losing Luz’s opinion of her when Willow’s memories came into play; She probably assumes that Gus has a bad opinion of her.

           Whether or not he does, I can’t say for sure… But the kid seems too good-natured and open to bear a grudge. At the very least, Amity has improved a lot, and Gus has been busy in other interactions, such as with Eda, King, and regrettably, Hooty. But if they DID interact in Season 2, I’d love to see Gus and Amity take note of the comparisons and dichotomy of their lives… Perhaps Amity becomes envious of Gus, or at least wishes she had what he does, while deciding to look after the kid- She doesn’t want him to become like her!

           Gus realizes that Amity is unfortunate… He better appreciates his relationship with Perry, as if he doesn’t already, and I can see him offering a lot of confidence to Amity! Maybe helping her relax, listen to what she has to say… We never see it, but I wouldn’t be surprised if Gus was someone who listened a lot to what Willow had to say in the past, just as Luz does to Willow AND Amity! Gus becoming friends with Amity could help the girl make new connections and solidify them, to both her and Luz’s delight… And Gus is elated to have another audience member to entertain with his illusions, someone who will listen to him!

          Because like King, while he does have issues with feeling unheard… In the end, he makes a point of letting himself be noticed, hence his enjoyment of Illusions, self-confidence, and one-time stint as MC at Grom! Whilst Amity tries NOT to be noticed, at least not in the individual sense- She’ll draw attention to the façade she has the Blight Child, and as a faceless member of the Emperor’s Coven one day… And that’s another dichotomy; The Blights are covenscouts and support Belos’ reign, while Perry Porter works with the news, reporting on some of the less desirable parts of Belos’ rule, and his own role is used by Gus to help lead an uprising against the Emperor; To show the truth to Belos’ cruelty, which is ironic for a kid who specializes in Illusions!

           As the son of a reporter, Gus has likely heard a LOT of gossip… So it’s possible he’ll be a lot more privy than most to Belos’ corruption, in the event that Perry likely does some investigation, or at least a lot of reporting and inevitably gets assigned to a thing or two. Whilst Amity’s parents keep her shielded from the truth of the Emperor’s Coven, or at least try to justify it… But Gus, he could be someone who helps Amity realize how corrupt Belos is, and how a good relationship with a parent that discusses the family name actually looks like! He can help Amity realize the truth- Again, another ironic contrast to his Illusionist talents. Assuming what happened with Luz, Eda, and Lilith isn’t already enough for Amity…

           Obviously Gus doesn’t HAVE to be friends with Amity and vice-versa. I can understand if he wants to avoid her because of what she did to Willow. But I think if the two WERE to interact, there’s some potential… At the very least, there’s a lot of thematic connections, similarities, and differences that are worth noting and appreciating. I’m just imagining Gus seeing Amity as being all down and in the pits, cheering her up with Illusions… And Amity listens to and understands Gus when he has to vent a bit.

           Amusingly, he’s also a self-proclaimed ‘Human expert’! So I can see Amity looking to GUS of all people on guidance on how to woo Luz, and navigate her human culture… And Gus, despite meaning well, just sets up Amity for failure and antics as he teaches her all of the wrong things! Imagine Amity nervously coming up to Luz, dressed in a rain poncho because it’s apparently a ‘display of romantic affection’ while Gus unblinkingly flashes her a thumbs-up from behind a bush! And then that leads to his disappointment as he realizes he screwed up…

           Or, Luz is such a goober who loves Amity that she takes it all in stride and genuinely enjoys it, leading to Gus being triumphant in his knowledge, while telling Amity ‘I told you so!’ Amity can’t BELIEVE she actually listened to him- But it paid off in the end, didn’t it? And hey, maybe she can use her power as a Blight to nab a human artifact for Gus… Or at least show him of Azura, assuming Luz already hasn’t! But given that book series is about witches and not humans themselves, I can see Gus not being too intrigued.

           To Amity, Gus is this weird, unusual little kid with a lot of ideas, surprisingly precocious… But she appreciates his confidence in himself, and how sweet he can be! While Gus sees Amity as Willow’s former friend who REALLY hurt her, but has since improved… And he knows through Luz and Willow that her parents are outright abusive, maybe he’s even had past interactions with Emira and Edric, as members of the same track! Either way, Gus has a lot of natural curiosity that wasn’t quashed or taken advantage of by his father, but actually supported… Maybe he’ll be interested in interviewing Amity, getting to know the REAL Amity Blight, encouraging her to come forth! And Amity is uncertain, maybe flattered… Maybe she humors him and actually DOES open up a little, maybe not.