#connecting with people is fucking hard. balancing things is hard. I wanna just lie down for a while and not be bothered

[pigeonperch]

Sits down

[fefairys]

I just read up to the breakup with Meenah and Vriska and fuck, i really dislike that whole situation. Got any thoughts you wanna ramble about regarding that?

OKAY I FINALLY GOT HERE IN MY REREAD.

god yes everything involving meenah and (vriska) and the vriska (vriska) confrontation is extremely fascinating to me. mostly because i resonate with a lot of it so hard it hurts. long ass post below. i got very personal lol what can i say. i vriska.

(vriska) goes into people-pleasing mode when she and meenah are alone. it actually reminds me of how she would sometimes act with kanaya. the vulnerability, mainly. but like. its a little different. with kanaya it was more like 'youre the only bitch around here i respect, but im still better than everyone else. i want you to like me but i dont NEED you to! (<-lie)' but with meenah its like 'you are the only person i have and so i have to be good for you so you dont leave me.'

she backs down super easily with meenah. sometimes she does argue for herself, but ultimately she always ends up deferring to meenah. she wants to agree with everything she says. wants her to like her:

^ she doesnt want to say the carnival looks fun until she's gotten meenah's approval. she has to be cool for meenah.

her suggestion gets shot down and she immediately sides with meenah. oh yeah i didnt want to do that anyway in fact i hate horses!

it's tricky, because of some of it seems like actual Character Development, and her getting over some shit. and i definitely think these thinks dont have to be mutually exclusive. she can be realizing things about herself and moving on from them while at the same time falling into habits that are equally unhealthy for a person.

she realizes she used to care way too much about stuff and tries to counter it by not caring at all. she realizes she used to push people around to much and counters it by becoming a pushover herself. this is sickeningly relatable to me.

the scene where meenah convinces her to get a tattoo is a good example of this.

she realizes that a long-held opinion she had is actually kind of bullshit, and that she cared way too much about it for no reason. good job, vriska!

but then she pretty much leaves the actual decision of it up to meenah! she asks meenah to tell her what to do instead of thinking for herself. she justifies it by agreeing that she loves pirate stuff anyway! shes trying to make up for a lifetime of bossing people around by asking someone else to boss her around. and she convinces herself that this is making her happy! and i mean it definitely is, in a way. it feels good to feel liked by someone. to have the approval of someone you look up to. it is making her happy. but is that... good for her? i dont know! it doesn't feel good to me.

this stuff is hitting me extremely close to home on this reread because i like JUST came upon the revolution that i kinda did this? not to this extreme polarity, but it still resonates.

i was (kind of am still, it's in my nature) a very bossy and controlling person, and i lost an entire circle of friends because they were rightfully tired of me telling them what to do and being so self-righteous all the time. so when trying to make new friends after that, i turned on people-pleaser mode. and i'm kind of still stuck there and trying to strike a balance between being a doormat people-pleaser and being a huge bitch that wants everyone to behave how *i* want them to. it is a hard balance to strike. its hard knowing when i should stand up and say something and when i should let something go, so most often i let things go. and OFTENTIMES i live to regret it. "i should have said something" is something i've been finding myself thinking A LOT in recent months...

and its tricky, because it feels good when people i respect say they approve of me. i feel happy that someone likes me. but sometimes that has come at the cost of sacrificing parts of myself. and it can feel good in the moment, to feel connected to someone like that, but then one day you wake up full of dread because you dont know who the fuck you are anymore. (vriska) didn't really ever get to that point, or, she never voiced it. vriska points out that shes become an entirely different person, but she does it in a way that uhhh fucking sucks lol! and is not helpful, because vriska's not exactly doing great, herself! she shows off her hypocrisy DELICIOUSLY in this scene.

she calls (vriska) selfish for.... being dead, essentially. and she justifies all her own selfish actions with it being "for the greater good," just as she always has. this is par for the course with vriska

^ i looooove this part right here where she sidesteps the fact that she did in fact plan to go fight jack but john punched her in the face to stop her. "different shit happened!" (i actually made the exact same decisions as you, but an outside force changed things and now i feel superior to you because i got a serendipitous opportunity that you didnt)

this whole conversation hits hard with me. it literally sounds similar to conversations ive had with myself! it's hard to not want to side with (vriska) i mean she does feel like the more reasonable one in this conversation and has had more time to think and reflect on herself, and vriska is being a fucking asshole about it, but like, i don't think either of them is exactly Right?

like, vriska has a bit of a point that (vriska) doesnt seem to notice that she's gone people-pleaser mode. but (vriska) thinks this is what happiness is. she despises her old self who was obsessed with inserting herself into everything and feeling the need to be The Best and prove herself as such, to catastrophic outcomes. so of course she wants to separate herself from that as much as possible and strive to become the opposite of it. someone who doesnt care about shit, and who lets other people make decisions for her instead of her making the decisions for everyone against their will. i think (vriska) was on the right track, but just couldn't really... Get There without the right support. and meenah was definitely not the right support.

but anyways like. vriska yelling at (vriska) at how disgusted she is with her is so sickeningly similar to me, looking back and realizing that i used to like.. stand up for myself more. if someone said some shit i didnt like i TOLD them i had a problem. i didn't let people push me around. and i think god, what happened to me? i became a weak loser that bends to peoples idea of what i should be instead of being myself. am i really happy?

but its not like i was better off before, either. vriska still isn't right. yeah i didnt let people boss me around, because i bossed THEM around. when i told people i had a problem with them i was MEAN about it. i said rude shit unnecessarily. i made everything about me and didn't care about what other people thought.

my past self and my "current" self (maybe like, my 'a few months ago self' i like to think im working through it but im still having trouble lol) are disgusted with each other. im disgusted that i used to straight up bully people all the time, and past me is disgusted that i seemed to have stopped having convictions, that i let other people decide who i should be, etc.

neither of them are really happy, but (vriska) sure seems a lot kinder, at least. she's made progress, but in a way that benefits other people more than it does herself.

also i love vriska saying "what happened to not letting shit get to you because you always knew you were better than the one slinging it" that is such utter bullshit. she is ALWAYS letting stuff get to her. all of her god damn actions are because she lets stuff get to her. everything she does is to prove herself. the cycle of revenge shit?? yeah totally didn't let it get to you. thats why you killed aradia and blinded terezi. because you were just so totally better than them and not letting it get to you. this stuff:

yeah. letting it roll off your back. lol

anyways back to meenah and (vriska)

meenah recognizes this vulnerability in (vriska) and it scares her. she does the whole "im abandoning you... for your own good..." thing, which... sucks! as you said, this whole situation just fucken sucks, man.

(vriska) basically admits that at this point, without meenah, she's lost. she let meenah mold her into what she wanted, and to lose her would be to lose herself.

but i mean i don't think there was another way this could've gone. (vriska) was essentially meenah's rebound after aranea (and vriska is her rebound after (vriska) lol) and it's just.. ALL bad. its just... everyone here has such deep personal issues that they cant help but let effect each other, yknow? meenah realizes that her issues are effecting (vriska) and thinks that removing herself from the situation is best. maybe it is? it turns out okay for (vriska) in the end, at least. as "okay" as she can possibly get, i guess.

i don't know. there's a lot here! it all just hurts and sucks. teens, man. how it is.

this is just my (very personal, frankly) interpretation of the events, idk. i think i said a lot here without actually saying anything all that substantial, as i feel like i tend to do. i just resonate with vriska really hard, what and you gave me an opportunity to ramble about it lol

[meet-me-in-the-pouringrain]

The Phoenix And The Rocket

Chapter 2

Chapter 1 Here.

Thank you all for the love on the first chapter <3 makes me excited to write. Hoping for weekly updates as I finish 2nd year Uni off but we’ll see. Atm I think there is roughly 8 chapters so very short and sweet but I have a habit of extending things so we’ll see!

Emily Prentiss, at the insistent of her therapist, signs up for a trauma ‘dumping’ site. She never expected that her Dump would connect her back to her old boss and the man she’s been in love with for over ten years.

Also the man she’s absolutely furious at for leaving.

As always : Credit goes to @lonelychicagos for the prompt :)

Edit : Since publishing I have been made aware that the term ‘Trauma Bonding’ is actually an abuse tactic and doesn’t mean ‘bonding over shared trauma’. Would like to make it clear that was a very strong mistake on my part and I apologise deeply for any offence.

Chapter 2

It was week and a case later that Emily realised her laptop had a notification sitting on it, a reply lie in waiting 20 minutes after her initial contact. Feeling guilty but overpowered by intrigue, the woman settled down on the jet, the laptop balancing on her knee and excitement in her chest.

Her seat partner, the insufferable David Rossi, eyes her with sneaky, glinting eyes. "Something you wanna share with the class, Prentiss?" He goades, smirking.

Emily glances up, scowling, as the rest of the team all turned attention onto her. "Excuse me?" She frowns.

"Oh she avoided the question" Tara pipes up.

"Now she's rolling her eyes" Spencer joins in. "That implies that she's hiding something"

Memories of Spencer and herself teasing Morgan a lifetime ago took Emily by surprise. Her jaw clenched and her laptop shut.

"I want everyone's paperwork on my desk on Thursday" She snaps, irritated to high heaven. Her eyes rolled again at the sound of Luke's childish indignation and JJ's proclamation of "I'm innocent!." Briefly, she wondered how the hell Hotch coped. Her irritation flared up at the thought of that man. Her anger at his abandonment still ever present.

Logically,  She knew she had no right to be pissed especially after two years. There was an argument for the fact that she had abandoned this team twice. And she has a habit of walking away when she doesn't get her way, a fact that both Strauss and Barnes had to find out the hard way.

But she was so angry. She had a comfortable life in London, a boyfriend that was nice enough and a job she enjoyed and that paid well, yet she packed it all up in a moments notice for him.

And she didn't even get a fucking thank you.

No, he just thrust all this responsibility on her shoulders and left, expecting her to pick up the pieces.

He expected her to soothe Penelope's anguish at losing another family member, be Dave's drinking buddy again, be Spencer's parental figure that no one addresses, be JJ's sister, and control two practical strangers in Tara and Luke.

God, he was a bastard.

Emily muses over that all on the drive home, fingers tight on the steering wheel, from the jet. Thankfully, the case drew to a close on a Friday giving her leeway to leave. She's still seething as she enters her apartment and re-boots her laptop.

'Meow'

"Hey Serg" Emily mumbles, pouring a generous glass of red wine.

The feline trots out of his hiding spot, happily. Emily and Penelope share custody of the pet now, He had recognised her during a girls night at Penelope's and threw a hissy fit as much as a cat could and had refused to leave her side. She physically melted and her friend gave her permission to take her cat back.

As it turns out, her little shit was a huge shit for other people.

But Emily couldn't do that to her so now they trade off whenever there's a case and she has to leave town.

"Pen drop you off, buddy?" She smirks, stroking his head. The cat purrs happily at her attention, making her laugh. He jumps to her lap before she can place the laptop on her so she awkwardly types with one hand. She loads up her conversation, cringing at the date left below RocketRacoon's sentences, and sighs. The poor man was probably waiting on her reply for ages before giving up.

Sergio suddenly freaks and hisses at the laptop, batting the screen angrily.

"Woah!" She exclaims, moving him away. He hisses again, eyes narrow, before hauling off with a feral screech. She stares after him as he bounces up on his scratching post. "Freak" Emily states at him, confused. She shakes her head and takes a gulp of liquid courage before typing again.

On the other side of the country, in Lakewood, Colorado, Aaron Hotchner slams down a cardboard box. His forehead was slick with sweat and his chest heaves with heavy breathes.

"You know, You could help" He mutters absentmindedly to his son. Jack sat playing video games in the living room tv.

"I could" Jack nodded. "I don't wanna though."

"Max"

"...."

"Max!"

"....."

"JACK"

"Yes dad?"

Jack turns, an expression on his face that mirrors his fathers. Since they got the word that Scratch was gone, Jack had reverted back from Max Hortenal. He refused to answer to his false name from his father, only reluctantly accepting it from school and friends. It was hard on Aaron to accept this change, habitually calling him Max.

Aaron glares at his son, jaw clenched. "Go and get the bait from the truck please." He orders authoritatively.

They'd just come back from a fishing expedition. In his retirement, Aaron had picked up Golfing, Running and Fishing as hobbies.

He loves the mundanity but sometimes he finds himself imagining he's chasing after an UNSUB while running. Or fishing out evidence to help a case rather than a sea bass he lets go after a picture.

The golfing is just fun.

Jack comes back in, gingerly gripping the bucket of worms in his hands. "Here." He snaps, holding it out. With an eyeroll, his father takes the bait and deposits it in the garage. "By the way, your laptop just pinged." Jack tells him, closing down his game. "I'm gonna go shower."

Aaron nods, wishes him a goodnight because he knows Jack will conk out straight afterwards, and heads towards the device. He figured after two days of no reply from Phoenix that he wasn't going to get one, chalking it up to intimidation and so he was confused as to what notification he had received. He grabs his glasses from his pocket, resenting that time certainly wasn’t on his side, and settles them on his face as he squints at the screen.

Surely by now his trauma dump would have been buried by others; He even saw Katie Jacob’s at one point when he checked for Phoenix’s question. He wished the girl well before blocking her so she didn’t question him anymore.

So imagine his surprise when the message was indeed Phoenix, apologising for the late reply.

PhoenixPren : So sorry! I didn’t see this reply, I travel a lot for work and was out of town!

Aaron breaths out a sigh, raising his eyebrows in acknowledgement.

RocketRacoon: I’ve been there, it’s okay.

Emily smiles and quirks an eyebrow of her own at the fast reply. With a purse of her lips, she types again.

PhoenixPren : You travel for work too?

RocketRacoon : Used too, Retired now.

PhoenixPren : Ah. Lucky. I gotta pay the bills somehow.

Aaron lets out a tiny laugh while Emily cringes at herself.

PhoenixPren : Anyway, you said you’re up for questions? Is that still on the table or have I ruined my chances?

“Fucks sake Emily, you’re not flirting with him.” Emily scolds herself, putting down her wine. Sergio mewls angrily at her as she speaks, still pissed at the laptop for some reason. “Weirdo” She insults her cat, swinging her legs to rest on her couch.

Aaron thinks about it for a moment, casting his mind to the day he’s had. He pulled Jack out of school, his son having a bad day the day before, and whisked him off to go fishing. At first, Jack seemed to hate life because he was forced out on a canoe in the lake but soon found himself laughing and enjoying time with his dad. He had forgotten about the day before entirely as he watched Aaron fight with a Bass and nearly go overboard. Aaron enjoyed it too, getting his son out without the worry that there was a serial killer lurking around the corner, ready to finish was Foyet started all those years ago.

He shrugs as he types.

RocketRacoon : Sure, Why not? What would you like to know?

Emily grins in excitement before it fades and she swallows, typing out what she wanted the answer to for weeks.

PhoenixPren : I guess there’s just one question really. How do you do it?

Aaron breathes out again, pulling back from his computer. He frowns and clicks on her profile, finding no story to tell. The only information he can see is that the person he was speaking to was a woman in her early 50’s. She had actually wrote ‘fuck off’ in the age section but then imputed in the ‘fun fact’ section that she went and saw Siouxie and The Banshees for her 18th birthday in 1987, placing her in her early 50s.

Phoenix had a story, one that she wasn’t willing to share. If he had to profile her (and boy was he almost giddy at the opportunity) he’d guess she was coerced into the website like himself, and searching for courage to write her own story.

RocketRacoon : One day at a Time. There’s high points and low points, you’ll have Good days and Bad days.

Emily blinked as the advice came through.

“You’re gonna go weeks, months even” Hotch tells her softly as she sits across from him on the plane. It was only those two, he duped her into entering early. Just to check on her. “Feeling fine and then you’re going to have a bad day. “ He stared at her with such intensity that she almost finds herself being pulled in. “Just let me know when you do.”

Shaking her head out of that memory, Emily blinks back water and sighs.

It takes her a while to type out the response, so long in fact that Aaron begins to exit the conversation, deciding that he’s in a good enough mood to read a few tales of the site. Phoenix catches him last second though.

PhoenixPren : Thank you.

He sighs again, reading the little two words over a few times.

RocketRacoon : You seem like you need more than advice

Emily tilts her head now, scrunching her face up.

PhoenixPren: Excuse me.

RocketRacoon : Sorry for the bluntness. Most people are on this site as a form of therapy- to share stories and make connections. I checked out your profile, What’s your story?

He didn’t know where that boldness comes from but something in his gut told him to keep that conversation going. Should Spencer be here, he’d probably rattle off a factoid about natural instincts. He grew nervous when Phoenix didn’t reply, or the little typing bubble didn’t pop up and was about to apologise again when she simply sent a shrugging emote.

PhoenixPren: Too much to tell, sorry Rocky.

RocketRacoon : RockET and mine wasn’t? I’m always here to talk if you need, Phoenix.

Emily licks her lips and picks up her wine again.

PhoenixPren : Does this mean we are TraumaBuddies now?

Aaron smirks, shrugging as if Phoenix could see him.

RocketRacoon : If you would like that. I’m very intrigued by you.

Emily swigs the last of her wine.

PhoenixPren : Buckle Up, Rocky. You’re in for a ride.

Word count :1834

Tag list : @lonelychicagos @84hotpockets @serqueljisbon @loriprentiss @velvetblackness

If you would like to be added or removed from the tag list just shoot me a dm!

[kaijurakunsobs]

The Beauty in Empathy

master list

ya boi took all the time in the world writing this but here we go baby! also...yall get soft!Heisenberg content

⚠ Trigger: Panic Attack, PTSD

Summary: the travel to the village has left you shaken up and unsure of what to do with your life. You lack direction, an objective, something to anchor you give the sense of control, it doesn't matter what, you just need something to control.

It, almost, feels nice to come back to the factory, not carrying for the ache in your limbs or the blisters on your feet, you need to feel safe in any way shape or form, and the closest thing to a safe heaven...is the factory. Where no one can touch you, where Heisenberg's sole presence is enough to ward off unwanted visits, where you could run through the maze of corridors and find refuge in some empty room.

There was so much going on, the euphoria you got that morning over the small win against Heisenberg was gone now, replaced by uneasiness, fear of what you don't understand, of what you had gotten yourself into. But you don't let panic subdue you again, taking deep breaths, you run to the living quarters, crates creaking with the movement, fresh vegetables, and cans making so much noise, you were sure the Lord would come and yell at you, he never comes, not even when you almost throw down the door and begin to scream, he's not there.

It takes you a bit to calm down and regulate your breathing, you feel disoriented, suddenly everything is too much and you begin to get rid of the rope wound around your shoulders and hands, wincing when the crates and sacks do so much noise.

And there you stay with your head pressed against the door and eyes shut, remembering how your mother used to cook and clean when stressed, she said cleaning your living space clears the mind and keeps us sane, cooking fills the soul and your stomach with the warmth of your home.

That makes you get up slowly, moving to the kitchen to clean it and the fridge thoroughly, ignoring your aching and shaking limbs in favor of putting everything away and leaving out some ingredients to make a simple vegetable soup. Taking a cutting board and knife you start chopping and cutting vegetables, casting a glance at the clock in the wall and wondering, when will Heisenberg come back and if you should leave him something to eat.

You are done cooking, letting the soup boil, and slowly make the room smell deliciously, remembering how your mom used to cook this soup when you were distraught or sick, you are distraught indeed, but getting lost in memories of people that don't exist anymore feels...useless, painful, stupid.

All of your attention is brought back to the mess on the table and coffee table, all those blueprints and papers just laying around, feels wrong. Picking up every single one you do quick work of rolling it and placing it upright in one of the crates the Duke used to pack your groceries, carefully stashing papers and placing them with the prints, dropping the crate over the kitchen table, grabbing the broom and sweeping the small living room.

With a prideful smile, you stare at the much cleaner area, serving yourself a generous portion of soup and taking a seat at the table, it tastes just as good as your last meal last night, you feel pleasure by eating something this warm, feeling the heat go down your throat and radiate through your entire chest and bleeding down your body, it's nice a feeling. But the heat doesn't linger long and the cold of the world beyond the factory hunts you.

You lost it all so fast, everything stole away by Miranda and the creatures that attacked you, yes, you have a "home" here and a room, and Heisenberg's presence seems to guard off against anyone coming close to this place, but you have no control over anything anymore, and that's what scares you, the lack of control over something.

Routine...that's a way to control your life, something so easy yet so valuable right now, that you don't fight off the prospect of binding yourself to something as monotonous as routine. You were adventurous and brave, now you are scared and ready to find some resemblance of normality, it might be hard, seeing how Heisenberg seems to be more on the chaotic side, but, starting tomorrow you will need to work on that, you need to reclaim a bit of your life.

For now, the best you can do is rest, tame your emotions, abide by the contract you made this morning, maybe...if you play your cards well, you get more perks or small liberties.

Heisenberg drags you out the next day to finally help him with the ventilation, barely giving you time to eat anything and forcing you to chug your coffee, running after him to not be left behind.

The Lord can see you, scribbling something on one of his old note pads, stopping outside of certain rooms to scan the place and write down more notes, mumbling to yourself about what you will need to fix the room. So you are a planner, he likes that, you could also be faking it in favor of getting on his good side, let's see how well you do.

"Let me get this clear" you sigh putting on a pair of his gloves, looking at the rather shabby board connecting the railway and the hole in the wall where the ventilation duct is visible "I have to go across this, get inside and then find the problem?"

"Yeah, basically" he's looking at you, judging your reaction, half expecting you to back off and run away "Is there a problem, sweetheart?" he leans close to you, blowing smoke in your face

With a huff, you take the cigar from his hand and take a drag and puffing the smoke back on his face, jumping over the railing and swiftly balancing over the board towards the hole "You better find a way to pass me whatever I need, cuz im not doing the trave back and forth every fucking time!"

Karl grins at your boldness, smoking his Cuban cigar like it's nothing, raising a brow when you finish it "Will find a way, don't worry about it"

"You better do, Karl!" turning around you grimace looking at the duct, there's water and cobwebs "This is asinine..."

"You will do amazing, darling!" he screams with a lot of amusement when he sees you climb into the duct, enjoying the view of your ass "way better than I could do"

"Oh, bite me!" you yell back with a bit of humor, quickly crawling to the spot marked on the map he gave you the day prior, only stopping to wipe off the sweat from your forehead and assess the damage "Hey, Heisenberg! We have rats here...seems they been doing a number on the ventilators' wiring!"

"Fucking hell! again?!" there's a moment of silence and you use it to look around, definitely, there are rats here, he should think about acquiring some cats, "Think you can fix it?!" you hear him clearly as you make your way back

"If you have some electrical tape and new wires? I could do it today but the rats will come back and eat the new wiring!" he sees you come back, looking at him expectantly

He waves dismissively, turning around to dig through the toolbox, he swears he saw some spare wires here..."Oh don't worry about that, darling, you fix the wiring and I'll just let the lycans have a feast on the vermin" he says as if you knew what he's talking about.

"The WHAT now?" Heisenberg chuckles at your expression, smiling a bit when he tosses the tape and wire in your direction barely catching them.

"More fixing and less asking, you can meet the pack later after we are done with everything you need to work on!"

You hate the way he's smiling, it makes you shudder and feel weary for whatever he's planning.

And you are right in feeling apprehension, Heisenberg keeps dragging you around, helping you up when the repair it's too high, happily taunting you when he sees you stand on a piece of metal, watching your legs wobble and the slight terror when he screams for you to balance yourself because he's not going to save you if you fall, cackling when you tell him to shove it and balancing on the metal sheet.

At the end of the day, he's surprised at how unbothered you seem at being covered in grease and sweat, nonchalantly cleaning your face with your sleeve "And here I thought you were lying about being a mechanic, color me impressed"

"I told you, I'm a woman of my word, I would never lie to you Heisenberg~" something stirs inside him in the way you smile, cocking your hip to the side, he hates your guts but he gotta admit, you are a sight for sore eyes "This has been a beautiful day and everything, but! I'm in need of a shower and I wanna eat something"

"Not yet princess" you yelp when Karl grabs your shoulders and quickly pushes and guides you "You were curious about the lycans, yes? I think is only fair for you to meet them, seeing how you will be staying here for a long time, it's better if they understand that you aren't food"

"WHAT, WHAT DO YOU MEAN!?" you try so hard to hold onto the door frames, make him stop by refusing to walk, try to walk backwards, only making him grow annoyed and throw you over his shoulder "HEISENBERG I'LL DECK YOU AGAIN, PUT ME THE FUCK DOWN!"

"I would LOVE to see you try that stunt again, girly. It's quite clear your daddy never showed you to be more respectful, I might need to teach you so manners" he has the good forsaken audacity of slapping your ass with his free hand

Heisenberg grunts and chuckles when you trash in his hold, trying so hard to run away from him "HOW DARE YOU?! IM BEATING YOUR DUMB FACE WHEN YOU PUT ME DOWN!" you make him laugh when a yelp scapes you the moment the cold air of the outside hits your skin and at least has the decency of softly putting you down, raising his hands as if ready for you to pounce "DON'T you dare to do that again, got it!?"

"We'll see if you mishave and threaten to punch me again, there must be some punishment, don't you think?" he's all smugness when he speaks, puffing up with pride when you blush and begin to frown, getting ready to tell him off only to get cut off when he whistles.

The sound is loud and fills the still air with a disturbance that feels disrespectful, making you wince when he keeps whistling rhythmically, that reminds you of how your grandfather used to have whistle based commands for the digs in his farm, which means...that the lycans are dogs, probably, and Heisenberg just lets them roam around, there's a small chance that the dogs are trained to chase or hunt vermin.

You both stay outside, waiting, getting a bit excited at the idea of seeing a dog after so long. Karl lifts a brow at the eager look on your face, wondering if you even know what's going to happen or if you are that stupid. He's ready to see your reaction, heard you scream in terror, or try to run back to the factory, although, he hopes you don't do that otherwise the lycans might give change and end up killing you.

The cocky smile on his face grows when he sees you pale in horror when the lycans come running, snarling and snapping their fangs at each other. Heisenberg was ready to hear you scream and see you escape, but he is not prepared for what you do next.

All that eagerness, the small hope you felt, all die when you see those beasts, all running to you like it happened that day, the phantom pain in your side makes you choke and freeze, these aren't the same beasts that...killed you...but the memory is still fresh, a part of you tells you to run, to hide, you scream or fight! but the rest of your body refuses to move. The closer they get, the louder the voice in your head becomes, so...you run and hide.

Last time you tried to run to your home and that got you almost mangled, this time? you let instinct guide you, pulling Heisenberg's coat up and hiding behind him, like a child would do, both arms winding around him with crushing strength.

In another situation, he would have made fun of you, laughing and asking where all that bravado of yours had gone to! But he can feel your chest rising and falling so fast, your entire body is shaking so hard it's making his necklaces clink and your teeth clack, you are muttering something but he can't tell what, more importantly...you are crying. He knows the signs of shell shock, oh he knows them too well, whatever happened to you, the lycans triggered a flight or fight response in you, a very strong one.

You can't hear anything over the ringing in your ears, so it's impossible to hear when Heisenberg whistles and makes the lycans scatter again. You do feel his hands peeling yours off him, the weight of his coat covering you and how, strangely, careful he is when picking you up, barely able to register his voice telling you to put your arms around his neck, the firm hold of his hands on your legs and what you guess, was a huff when you locked your legs behind him.

He's beyond surprised when you willingly allow him to pick you up like this, a million questions running through his head over your reaction. Guilt taking a hold of his heart knowing he made you THIS scared, to the point of sobbing on his shoulder and refusing to let him go even after making it into the living quarters but he manages to convince you to let him go, sitting you where you can see him cook and barely hear him talk...something about helping him with a reactor? you are not sure.

Karl watches you eat slowly, looking for any sight you might throw up or if the shaking in your hands gets so bad you might be unable to eat. He goes as far as to escort you to the bathroom, leaving you a new shirt and alone. There are no words to be exchanged but you know, he will come back to check on your jittery self and take you back to your room.

Once alone, you let shame eat you alive, wondering if he thinks less of you, if he will make fun of what just happened, or if tomorrow he will relegate you to some stupid minimal task thinking you are some weak damsel in distress. Dread crush you, not excited for the next day.

Waking up is torture and dressing up is suddenly the toughest task you have been saddled with, the smell of coffee fills the kitchen and, to your disgust, you see Heisenberg dump what might have been three spoonfuls of sugar on his cup. The man perks up when you get close to the table,

"Alright darling, let me start by saying..." here he goes, he's going to laugh and humiliate you "I'm NOT your fucking delivery man" Heisenberg throws a utility belt at you, the weight of the tools on it make you tip back and almost lose your footing "I went to the Duke to see if he got me some new stuff and he said your tools and boots arrived early, I only brought all this back so you won't lose time passing you anything"

"Eat something, we have time" He knows he shouldn't bring back up what happened yesterday, giving you time to process it all and think about what his next steps should be regarding the lycans and your fear of them.

The day is just like yesterday, but you pick on the subtle differences, Heisenberg seems more aware of any sounds that might startle you, steering you away from areas where he knows the lycans are chasing after rats and having a feast on some other things. You don't comment on it, smiling inwardly at his attempts to prevent you from going into another panic attack.

You are sitting in front of a broken generator, judging the damage and sighing when you come to the sad conclusion that you might need to rebuild the entire engine, Karl is close by, two rooms down from where you are. Getting up and stretching is a small pleasure, hearing your back crack loudly, groaning over the stiffness on your neck.

"I got you bad news, backup generator number eight? dead as fuck! I might need to rebuild it which means I'll be doing a list of what I need" you say while entering the room, his back is facing you and he seems to be deep in thought hunched over something.

Getting close you can see him pulling pieces towards him the metal listening to his command and coming his way, a screwdriver in one hand and a magnifying glass in the other, he seems to be struggling to assemble something.

Smiling a bit, you are careful when putting your head on his shoulder, effectively making him jump "Whatchu doing~?" Heisenberg curses under his breath, looking at you to the best of his abilities

"Reactor, damn thing keeps exploding whenever I do test runs" he feels you hum and see your hand get close to the project without touching

"Maybe it's the material or the lack of a cooling system, but that's my opinion" you straighten back "And like I said, the generator is dead, gone, either replace the whole unit or we rebuilt it"

You hear him grunt and pat his pockets looking for something, soon the smell of tobacco fills the air and he too gets up, looking at you, clearly thinking something or how to say it "Princess, about yesterday..." you go stiff, immediately looking away "I don't know what happened before you were brought here, but I do know that it's important for your safety that the lycans learn that you are a part of my..." at this he hesitates, chewing his cigar "family, so if you ever need it, they will come and help you"

He waits for you to say something or to see if you panic again when he sees no sight of terror he continues "There's a small group of lycans that are a bit more tamer, and I was thinking about introducing them to you, one by one"

"You want me to just do what, play fetch with them, scratch their bellies!?" there it is, your panic begins to raise and before it explodes, he grabs your shoulders making you look at him.

"You won't be alone, I'll be there and if the lycans try to EVEN bite you, I'll kill them on the spot! I will even teach you how to control them, that pack will be your...personal guard, but I'll be there"

You relish in the feeling of his gloves hands over you, thinking slowly about this. You need routine and maybe training the beasts to obey you might be good...having control over another being could be good and Heisenberg said he will be there the whole time, something about his voice makes you trust him. "If you leave me alone even ONCE, I'm destroying your knees with a wrench"

And there's that wolfish smile and hearty laughter, with renewed joy he pulls your hand telling you about how you will have the right to do that if he abandons you ever after this, he's staying with you throughout the whole process. Heisenberg catches you off guard when he takes off his coat and drapes it around your shoulders, pulling you outside, standing next to you.

"Let's start with whistling, ok?"

You must admit, you have a lot of fun learning how to do the right whistle command to call this particular pack, laughing a bit when Karl squishes your face whenever you fail to produce the right sound, once you get the sound right, he teaches small commands, how to make one sole lycan come to you, have them stop dead in their tracks, among others and how to make each whistle sound loud.

He does chuckle when you jump the moment the pack comes bolting from the woods towards you, the grip on your shoulders return and that anchors you, giving the stop command and smiling once the small group stops, Heisenberg all but smiles proudly when you take control and pick one lycan to get close and dismiss the others.

"Once it's close enough" Karl whispers low enough for you to hear "take off your gloves and let it smell the back and palm of your hands" he sees you nod and waits for the lycan to get near you, his hands sliding up and down your arms, he can feel you tremble a bit when you take off his gloves and let the beast smell you.

The lycan looks up to you, then at Heisenberg, opting for keeping its attention on you, you called it after all "It won't bite you, it can smell that you belong here, it knows better" Even with his reassurance you are weary of the beast, everything inside asking you to run away, yet you stay put, dogs can smell feat and react to it and that never ends well.

"What else can they do?" Karl can hear the terror in your voice but feels proud of your bravery, quickly teaching you what other tricks the thing can do.

By the end of the day, you are rather surprised when he cooks dinner again, he's actually pretty decent, his cooking lacks a bit of salt but it's good and he's doing his best to have you well fed.

"May I ask...why are you being so nice?" you ask him looking at his back "I've been a bit of a brat"

He laughs looking at you over his shoulder "I suppose...I understand what you are going through" he says, turning his attention back to the stove.

You want to ask him what happened to him, what made him so emphatic out of the blue but the tone of his voice and the stance of his body is enough indicator that this time is not the right moment to ask about it, perhaps one day, you two can share the pain that haunts you both.

[yayteaberry]

*SFW* Dumbass! (Bakugou)

When you were about two years old, your family made a huge move from America to Japan. Your father found suitable hero work there so that’s where you stayed. His quirk worked much like a wolfs, giving him heightened senses and much more mobility. Naturally you inherited the physical aspects such as a tail and ears, though much of you remained human like your mother.

Growing up, you quickly bonded with your neighbor's son, Katsuki Bakugou.

Your fiery and determined attitude worked really well with him and he made for an excellent playmate. He could handle your tendency to roughhouse and wrestle, if anything he seemed to enjoy it. You two were inseparable, spending a near unhealthy amount of time with each other, this carried well into your schooling years.

Despite claiming you had your own intentions behind it, you did follow him like a lost puppy. It was quite obvious to everyone around you that you’d do anything for him, except for him of course.

You were almost dangerously defensive over him, snapping at people who questioned or pushed at him while you were around.

It made you seriously upset when other people touched him or got to speak with him more than you, heavily sulking and pouting until you got your opportunity for his attention.  As guilty as you could feel about it in retrospect, you really can’t help it.

When you had his attention all to yourself, you loved to spar with him more than anything else. It wasn’t like it was a special activity but still it felt like something between you and him. As you grew up ‘wrestling’ became something skin to sparring and then just became a routine part of training once he got into UA.  Though there was a nostalgic undertone, in the past it used to be something he’d only do with you, and you were having a hard time letting go.

Currently you were waiting for him to come back to his room so you could ask him to do just that. He enters his room right on time, totally unperturbed you were already inside since you’d made a habit of coming in anytime you wanted.

“Hey! Lets go practice!”, you chirp as you hop off his bed, excitedly skipping up to him.

“Nah, I just finished up doing that with Kirishima for the past hour and I wanna take a break.” He speaks as he nonchalantly drops his bag to the floor. 

It’s somehow more insulting that you can smell how sweaty he is. 

“What the fuck do you mean ‘no’?”, with a disgusted huff you size him up, angry enough to just tackle him already.

“Fucks your problem? I didn’t promise you anything today.”

You pout as you often do, crossing your arms over your chest, ears pinched back. “Yeah but why would you run off with him like that! I’m right here! You in love with him or something?”

He rolls his eyes and matches your stance with his standard snarl, staring you down. The height difference does nothing to make you intimidated, and it never has. “I can do what I want. He asked me first and either way I need to branch out and win against different people who actually provide a challenge.”

You scoff and throw your hands at your sides after balling them into fists, stomping your foot down to accent your disapproval. “I do provide a challenge, you don’t win every time you asshole! I bet he was really terrible at it, not nearly as good as me!”

The way his face scrunches up a moment makes you narrow your eyes, not sure what he’s thinking about. When a big grin breaks out you feel your rage double.

“You’re jealous of him.”

That makes you nearly explode, snorting out a scoff and shaking your head. “Not in your wildest fucking dreams! I am not jealous!”

“Yes, yes you are.”, he says after a laugh that makes your face feel hot.

“Stop talking so calmly! I just said I’m not so I’m not! Shut the fuck up! Shut up, you’re so dumb sometimes!”, you shout back at him, turning your head to the side as you instantly loathe your inability to shut your mouth.

He only smiles wider, leaning close into your personal space, gently flicking your nose. “You totally are, I can see it.”

You swat at his hand and growl, tail bristling as you go fully defensive. “I said shut the fuck up! There’s nothing jealous about me! I just don’t think you should be spending your time with such a loser!”

Easily he grabs your hand, tilting his head and speaking with such a mocking tone you have to keep down the urge to bite him. “Oh? And, just who do you recommend replacing him? If not him, then who? If you’re not jealous then I assume you’ve got another person in mind. C’mon, I’m all ears.”

With a harsh yank you get your hand back, pushing on his chest and getting even more frustrated when he doesn’t budge. “Shut up! I said shut up! Stop being such a bastard about this!”

“Why should I? You’re the one freaking out.”

“I AM NOT FREAKING OUT!”, you shout, freaking out.

“It’s adorable that you get so upset just because I spent an hour with someone else, you’re all pink in the face over it. That’s jealousy if I’ve ever seen it.” He can’t wipe the smirk off his face when you act like it, he did always find it cute when you get so heated over him giving you attention. 

“I’m not upset and I’m not jealous! I just don’t like you accusing me of things that I’m not! You’re a fucking idiot!”, you continually spout, upper lip curled up as your breathing turns into gruff pants, barely avoiding the urge to start barking. 

Despite how you look fit to maul him, he finds himself perfectly comfortable grabbing one of your ears, delicately massaging it between his fingers. The action almost instantly starts working to calm you down, feeling so good you lean into it without realizing it. Though you’re still pouting, the raging fire has simmered down greatly.

“I can’t only spar with you, I do need to improve my technique.” He speaks as he continues, now using both hands for both ears.

You puff out a large breath, “Well why can’t you do that with me? I can change my fighting style, do different things. If you need something different then why can’t you tell me what?”

“Why is this so important to you? We hang out a fuck ton outside of doing that so whats the difference.” His voice is laced with annoyance, making you wince internally.

“Because he’s got his stupid hands all over you.”, you reply, mildly hypnotized enough by his massaging that you let some of the truth slip out.

“So you should be the only person allowed to touch me?” He raises an eyebrow at that, nearly letting out another laugh.

Your stomach sinks at the implication of what you’ve said, attempting to fishtail your way out of it. “No! Just, that, well! Why’s it even matter, you’re not listening to me anyways! God is it too much to ask that you pay some attention to your best friend sometimes!” You grab at his wrists and pull his hands away, tossing them away.

“What the hell would you even call this right now? You even sleep in here most nights, how the fuck can I possibly give you more attention! Do you wanna be attached at the fuckin hip!”, he says with an exasperated grunt, pinching at the bridge of his nose. 

“Shut up! It’s just comfortable here is all, not a crime to have preference! S-So what if I like it in here? So what if I don’t think you should let just anybody get their hands all over you!” You anxiously fidget with your hands, shrugging passively despite your raised volume.

“So you admit that you’re upset about me sparring with Kirishima because you don’t want him to touch me!”, he says while he points an accusatory finger towards you.

“Yea, whatever! So what!”, you shout as you throw your arms up, sitting back on his bed forcefully enough to bounce a few times, “Not a fucking crime is it! It’s contact, I’m part wolf you know, it’s kinda in my blood!”

“I have to do other shit besides enable your needy ass, you should be grateful I allow you to do all the shit you do!” He puts his hands on his hips, leaning down to get in your personal space.

“I’m not fucking needy!”, you shoot back instantly, nails digging into your palms.

“That’s right, you’re needy AND jealous!”

You can’t handle anymore slander being thrown at you, lunging off the bed and tackling him to the floor with a loud growl.

He goes down but flips you underneath him the moment he makes full connection with the ground, holding your wrists together in one hand above your head. Squirming around somewhat violently gets you free, pushing him by his chest to get him away. Once he’s off balance you shove him back onto the floor, sitting on his back.

As you grab one of his arms to twist, he shoves you backwards hard enough that you tumble off. That disorients you long enough for him to pin you down, his chest against your back and your face partially mashed into the floor. You can’t reach him like this, so you get up on your knees before he’s able to hold your hips flat down, wiggling like before to see if you can escape.

But, it doesn’t work, all it does is make him grunt strangely as your tail awkwardly presses into his stomach. To submit so he’ll get off, you relax, your ass settling against his lap.

“Giving up? Say it, say you’re giving up!” He says with the usual grit, tugging one of your arms backwards.

You yelp in pain, no longer willing to go gently into defeat. “I’m not giving up, I just want your boner out of my ass!”

“Don’t distract and fuckin’ lie, say you’re done!”, he punctuates his sentence by yanking your arm.

Just to prove a point you made up on the spot, you wiggle your hips against him, definitely winning by the way he lets go of your arm and sits upright to grab at your hips instead, letting a soft ‘fuck’ slip past his lips.

You’ve already started crawling away when he shoves you forward, falling onto your face with zero grace.

“Hey! Asshole, don’t push me!”, you whine as you rub at your nose, nearly sneezing.

“Serves you right!”

“Oh, for fucking what!”, you get back to your feet, seeing that he’s sat down on his bed.

“I don’t have to explain it to you!” He plops down onto his bed, once again crossing his arms over his chest.

“So that means you’re so cowardly you won’t admit that was a dirty play!”, you spit out at him as you stomp over to him, standing in front of him.

He nearly jumps up, getting right in your face to try and make you back down. “Don’t think I forgot what you’re trying to distract me from. This is all because you can’t accept that I can’t be up your ass all day like you are up mine!”

You don’t fold in the least, if anything leaning in close enough that your nose bumps into his. “Fuck. You.”

“Jealous bitch!”

“Stuck up bastard!”

The staring contest you’re having is intense, full of tension that threatens to explode if you so much as blink.

Suddenly, there’s a shift in the energy, gaze softening for just a split second before he presses his mouth onto yours. It’s not until he pulls away that you realize that was supposed to be a kiss, turning red as a tomato as your eyes widen.

Bakugou was actually blushing, looking at you as if he’s having a hard time with something. Which did scare you a bit since he was always so sure of himself. “You’re fucking stupid sometimes but you know you’re mine. So, just say it.”

“... What..?”, you say after a full ten seconds of star struck silence.

He grimaces and collects himself for a moment before speaking through gritted teeth. “I’m asking your dumbass to go out with me.”

“That’s not really asking, you didn’t even phrase it as a question...” Your eyebrows knit together as you shoot him a confused look.

“Well what’s your fucking answer!” He rolls his eyes and clicks his tongue against his teeth, something he always does when he’s nervous.

“Of course it’s yes, I’m not completely braindead,” you smile and kiss him on the cheek, very pleased over the outcome of the argument, “only stipulation is that you tell me before you rub yourself all over another person. In return I’ll stop threatening to bite everyone.”

[wienerbarnes]

The Electrifying Mind Reader (1/2)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (Cheek to Cheek)

Word Count: 3,186

Warnings: violence, capturing, angst👀, drugging, reader doesn't have fun in this one but i don't wanna spoil it yall know i always end w happiness so part 2 will fix things

A/N: hehehehe i had this idea but im still trying to see where it goes depending on how fatws ends, how the loki disney+ series goes, etc, etc, but ugh i never wanna stop writing these two so imma just make shit up forever also don't let the warnings scare you lol yall know im soft on the inside

MAIN MASTERLIST | CHEEK TO CHEEK MASTERLIST

The mission was rough, to say the least.

Another HYDRA base found in Eastern Europe. One you’d worked for for a few years. Making you have both a personal connection to the mission, and be the only person on the team who knew this base intimately. This specific location arose after Bucky’s time, but during the prime of yours. So, you, Bucky, and Sam took it upon yourselves to go out and investigate while Sharon helped from the tower.

Until it was occupied with more HYDRA soldiers than any of you could’ve imagined.

580 soldiers. 580 Nazi’s all in one building. You wanted to blow it to shreds as soon as you landed there, but Sam went against that idea; there was too big a possibility that there were innocent people in there, either those brainwashed or those being held hostage. Neither you nor Bucky could argue with him there, the two of you fell under those categories yourselves.

We can take 'em, Sam said. With him in the sky and Bucky and I on the floor with the brawn and mind control powers, we can totally take ‘em.

What a fucking lie, that was.

The three of you got separated fast. And it didn’t take long after a few fights and punches that your coms broke and went offline. You think they would’ve made better com devices that were better adapted for this kind of stuff. They make arms and shields out of vibranium but not tiny coms to go in your ears?

Being separated from your teammates with no way of contacting them while still not being completely confident in your powers was not good for you, especially considering the history you have with this place. You want to hope that your handlers aren’t at this location anymore, but there’s really no way to know. The last thing you need is to run into one of them and for them to recognize what used to be their favorite play toy.

Except somehow, something worse happens.

A bomb goes off. Not necessarily blowing you to pieces, but with you being placed next to a window, being hurled a few stories into the snowy woods didn’t exactly put your body in good shape.

It takes about twenty minutes to orient yourself again. For your ears to stop ringing, for your body to stop shaking, for you to look around and have some kind of a feel for your surroundings. You don’t see the quinjet you arrived in anywhere, nor Sam and Bucky. But you know with the tracker sewn into your stealth suit, someone will find you eventually.

So, you start walking.

The shoes on your feet aren’t exactly made for the snow; you didn’t imagine you’d be hiking much on this mission. But the boots are thick enough to keep your toes from getting wet, which is good enough.

You stick close to the trunks as you walk on, planning to make a large circle around the perimeter and hoping to run into the quinjet, wherever it is. You hope they waited for you, at least.

Meanwhile, Bucky yells at Sam on the ramp to the quinjet, engine already purring as Sam is telling him to get on, that we’d come back for you with Sharon and better equipment to help them look.

“I’m not getting on the fucking plane, Sam!”

“It’s a jet, not a plane.”

“I’m not leaving my fucking girlfriend in the snowy woods alone outside of the Nazi base she used to be held at! Come back later, I’ll find her myself!” Bucky yells, vein popping out of his neck in anger.

If it was any other agent, he would’ve agreed. To go back to the tower, to get more equipment, to bring more people. But this isn’t any other agent; it’s you.

So, he starts walking.

He figures you’ll walk a few miles out, keeping your distance from the base in case anyone who survived that blast goes looking for any one else in the area. He begins heading west, planning to go a few miles straight and then start rounding the area, he can clear by nightfall, but hopefully he’ll find you before then.

Bucky doesn’t think to look for you in the treetops, though.

You hear a voice, and you panic. There’s nowhere to hide; only tall trees and mountains of snow around you, so the only way you think to go is up. You quickly hoist yourself up into the tree, balancing on a branch and hoping you’re covered enough by the snow covered branches.

It’s quiet again, and for a moment you think it was just the voices in your head; that there was nobody actually in the area. It’s hard to get a peek out with the blanket of snow clouding your vision in this tree, but you think you see a flash of metal. It could either be a gun or it could be Bucky’s arm. You cross your fingers and take your chances.

Wrapping your hands around the branch, you slowly bring your legs down to swing a bit before landing on the ground, prepared to greet your boyfriend and joke about engaging in monkey business.

Except it’s not Bucky.

A tall man, both arms made of metal, one with a shiny red star on the shoulder and the other with a skull and tentacles, turns to face you, drawing his gun and aiming it at your head.

“Oh, fuck.” Is the last thing you hear yourself say before a shot is heard and you see black.

Bucky hears a shot from the direction in which he was walking from. That could either be someone from HYDRA shooting at someone or you shooting at someone. He doesn’t like either option.

He breaks out into a sprint, gaining momentum and speed as he flies through the snow, charging back in the direction he came, hoping he can figure out where the shot came from in time. There was only one, so either it was a warning shot, or a lethal one.

When is Sam getting back? The longer he imagines your bleeding body on the white floor, the more he feels his anxiety spike and his heart race. You have your gun. Even if that shot was for you, you don’t go down without a fight. You’ve been training with your mind control with Wanda. You’re fine.

Surely, you’re fine.

The next time you wake up, it’s to a sharp slap across the cheek.

Your eyes open to see two men in front of you. You ignore the stinging in your face and the ache in your arm and glance between the two soldiers before you. You former handlers. Two of them at least.

“Sorry, boys,” You begin, glancing down at the bandage wrapped around your right bicep, where you assume a bullet was a while ago, “I’m unfortunately taken and only like it when my boyfriend slaps me around.”

You try to rub at your shoulder with your opposite hand, by there tied behind your back to the chair you’re sitting in. There’s also ties around your ankles and the fold of your knees.

You take a moment to stare at them to see if there’s a way to tap into their heads, get one to shoot the other, or untie you at least before they do that. But nothing. 

They both giggle. “Just as feisty as ever, aren’t you.”

“Yeah, yeah, listen, great catching up and all, but I actually have a doctor’s appointment I need to get to and I do need to get going -” Another smack, and then two hands vest the collar of your top.

“You’re not going anywhere! You left once, but now that I have you again, I’m not letting you leave my sight, my Mind Reader.” He tells you.

“...Can’t read minds. Can control them! But, can’t read them, sorry, no dice.” You correct, hiding behind your fear with a plethora of jokes and teases.

“We’ll see about that.” He looks deep in your eyes.

You smile drops and you look over your shoulder, realizing the room you’re in.

A large, black, metal chair sits above a few steps of concrete. Dark screens and bars surrounding it. There are open brackets for your arms and legs to be restrained, and the infamous headpiece that sends painful shocks to your brain. The man with two metal arms who shot you earlier stands beside it.

You remember the first time your powers manifested. Hours of drowning and waterboarding, followed by hovering candles and fires around your skin, poking and prodding you with needles to make something, anything happen. The goal was to send you into such an overdrive, overwhelming you to the point that your body to work with whatever poison they were putting in you.

“You wouldn’t,” You tell them, “You’re not stupid. You’re evil, but not stupid. You wouldn’t risk me in good ole’ Sparky.”

“Wouldn’t I?” The two men hoist you up and begin to drag you towards a heaping pile of metal. You try with all your energy to tap into their minds, tap into anyone’s mind, but to no avail.

This is it, you think. Who knows what will happen next, what you’ll remember. I hope Bucky doesn’t find me, I don't want him to see me like this. Two metal arms hold you down, one choking you hard and the other sitting heavily atop your injured shoulder while the machine powers up. The ties around your limbs are cut and the brackets automatically close, locking you in by your wrists, biceps, and ankles.

“See you on the other side.” He tells you maniacally, a syringe being pushed into your neck by the man with metal arms and the head piece coming down over your face before the worst pain you’ve ever felt courses through your body.

You scream.

Bucky has spent the last couple of hours running around this stupid forest with only failure to show for it. His last option is to go back to what’s left of the base. Sam’s about to land again, this time with Sharon and an extra agent or two.

He’s tossing the pieces of rubble around, looking for something, anything, to show him that you’re around here, that you’re alive.

Until he sees it. It almost perfectly looks like a metal rod sticking out of the ground. But it’s a handle. He pulls on it with all his strength until the lock and chain from the other side snaps, the door swinging open.

He climbs down the small ladder barely hanging against the wall before his feet thump on the ground again. He doesn’t like the nostalgia he feels slowly walking through the dark room, the distant groaning of a body, and smell of just pure evil.

He finally sees a slight glow coming from around the corner at the end of the hallway he’s ended up on, and he speeds up his pace, desperate to find someone, desperate to find you.

And he’s sorry he does. He’s sorry that he’s seen what he’s just seen. A door, on the opposite side of where he’s entered, left ajar and slightly swinging, signifying that someone’s just gone through it, and you, sitting slumped in that fucking chair, groaning and using what little strength you seem to have to weakly pull at the restraints around your wrists and ankles.

It’s his worst nightmare. You, stuck in that chair. He doesn’t waste a second running over to where you are, latching his hands on the headpiece that still sits on your face. He grabs a hold of the two pieces of metal and props a foot to the back of the chair, using all his might to snap it apart. He lets out a yell as he pries it off, bending the metal handle that connects to the main body of the machine.

He pants, reaching for the other restraints and prying those apart too, the sound of metal on metal making his ears hurt, there’s no way his metal arm isn’t wrecked after this.

He grabs a hold of your face to get a good look at you, to make sure you’re still alive. Your pupils almost completely cover the iris, the whites tinted pink. There’s also drool staining the corners of your lips and you're mumbling something to him that he can’t understand.

“Baby? Baby, I’m here, we’re leaving now, okay? I need you to stay awake for me while I get you to the jet, okay? Can you walk?” He coos and speaks to you softly and calmly, gently lugging your body into a standing position, but all you do is slump against his frame.

He can still hear the silent whirring of the machine, and from the subtle shakes in your body, he can guess the chair wasn’t used on you too long ago. He remembers having to be carried by two guards larger than him after a session in the chair, and he's about twice your size and strength, no matter your powers; he can’t imagine what your body’s feeling right now.

You whimper as he catches you, and he’s quick to slide an arm between your legs, the other grabbing a hold of your good arm and slinging you over his shoulders. The metal in his left arm is pinching into the skin of his shoulder, letting him know the plates are messed up from his pulling apart the machine.

Kinda went full Banner on the chair, didn’t I.

“Sam should be here, love, okay? So, just stay awake for me and you can rest on the plane. Huh?” He tells you, trying to engage and hoping you’re awake as he talks to you.

Another groan from you, which is good enough for him. He finally climbs back out of the basement and doesn’t see a jet in sight.

“God damn it, Sam,” He mumbles, and you whimper above him again, your breathing turning into panting and he senses your panic rising.

“Babe… Babe!” Bucky, sets you down gently, trying to capture your attention. A sharp call of your name forces you to look up at him.

You see three of him, and every color you see is much more vivid than you’ve ever seen before. You feel yourself shivering but also feel like you’re burning from the inside out. You know he’s talking to you, but you can’t focus on a single word he says because all you’re thinking about is how you don’t want to feel like this.

“Put me to sleep, knock me out, make me not feel this,” You interrupt him, but by the look of utter confusion in his face, you don’t think you’re speaking clear enough for him to understand you. Which only makes you panic more.

His eyes travel around your face and neck, observing the bruising on your forehead from where the headpiece of the chair rested and the finger-shaped marks on your neck. He also takes notice of the small hole on the side of your neck, about the size of a needle.

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry this happened to you, and I’m sorry I wasn’t there to stop it, to protect you, like I’m supposed to. But, I need you to be strong right now, I need you to suck it up until I can get you on that fucking jet and in a fucking hospital, okay? Please! Please, baby, just tough it out for a little while longer, can you do that?” He cradles your face and head with both of his hands.

Bucky’s on the brink of a panic attack himself. The only thing keeping him from breaking down is the fact that he’s the only one here to make sure you stay awake.

A distant purring of an engine is finally heard and his head darts up at the sky to see the quinjet come into view.

“Look, babe! See? Already here! Just the short trip to the tower, okay, love? You can’t die on me, please,” He trails off.

You squeeze your eyes shut as you try to bring yourself up into a kneeling position to stand up, and a cry escapes you as you feel an utter lack of control over your body. Your brain is trying to move your arms and legs but they feel so heavy that they just don’t move.

Suddenly, Bucky’s hoisting you up again, bridal style this time, and he’s running to the quinjet. You don’t even feel the pain in your shoulder and chest when your arm bounces around because you feel like your insides are melting.

Your brain and head haven’t stopped buzzing since sitting in that chair. You only remember flashes; flashes of black, flashes of the room, flashes of those bastards’ faces while they stare amusedly at you writhe in pain.

You don’t realize you’re on the jet until your body is laid on a cold table, the only table on the quinjet that’s attached to the wall. You look around to gauge your surroundings; you see a blonde head of hair and two other taller figures. Your hand twitches, wanting to reach out for Bucky, but he’s not looking at you. You whimper again, but it must not have been loud enough because he only continues to speak to the two other people, who you guess are Sam and another agent.

You straighten yourself on the table as your heart speeds up faster and faster. You brace yourself for a panic attack but it doesn’t come.

Nothing does.

Bucky tries to tell Sam everything as quickly as possible while the jet takes off. He can only imagine how hysterical he looks right now, and how much explaining he’ll have to do to the other agent on the jet with them; he’s pretty sure he might’ve slipped in calling you his girl by mistake once or twice.

He glances over his shoulder to check on you but does a quick double take. You’re not moving. Your eyes are open, but you’re not moving. Not shaking how your body was before from the electricity, not groaning or whimpering from whatever was wrong with you.

He remembers going on autopilot from there. He strains his ears and can’t hear the rapid beat of your heart, he doesn’t hear anything coming from you. His own heart feels like it stops when he climbs on top of you, straddling you, and leaning his head over your mouth to try and catch your breathing - which he doesn’t - and raising a hand to feel your heartbeat - which he also doesn’t feel.

“Don’t you fucking dare!” He starts CPR immediately, pumping his fists roughly against your chest, counting in his head among all the other chaos floating around in there.

“C’mon sweetheart. Wake up. Wake up, baby.” He continues.

“Bucky, you’re going to break her sternum!” Sharon tries to warn him.

He pauses only for a brief moment to turn his head towards her, “Sharon, shut up!” He snaps, this probably being the first time he’s ever screamed at Sharon. He turns his head towards Sam and Agent 36, “Sam get this fucking plane to the tower, now!”

“Please, please, please don’t do this to me. Not now. Not because of them.” He resumes the CPR while mumbling to himself, leaning down to breathe air into your mouth.

“Can’t lose you, can’t lose you.”

He can’t lose you.

[meruz]

Aforementioned long ask post please excuse me while i try to figure out tumblr's new text editor. I’ll get into the art meme questions first and then the rest at the end.

Ok first of all thank you all for sending in questions! Giving me an excuse to talk hehe. I’ll address these in number order. Here’s a link to the ask meme for reference but also I’ll restate the question for ease of reading.

1. When did you get into art?

Super cliche answer but I don’t remember a time where I WASN’T the weird art kid! I started keeping a dedicated sketchbook when I was about 12? But here’s a page from my kindergarten journal about what I want to be when I grow up.

2. What art-related sites have you ever signed up for? 

LOL this is a weird question. Not sure why so many people want to know. Anyways I definitely had a dA. more than one dA account. I used to browse oekakis when I was a kid but I think I was only signed up to some small ones that internet friends owned. What else...? Mangabullet,Tegakie, Paintberri, iscribble back when that was a thing, instagram if that COUNTs, I used to post art on livejournal and dreamwidth too. Patreon, I guess. Gumroad, inprnt, bigcartel, storenvy all for selling stuff.

In terms of resources.. I have a schoolism account that I’m sharing with friends. Used to take classes on coursera for free. I signed up to textures.com for work recently haha. I can’t remember if I ever had an account on posemaniacs. Did they have accounts...? I definitely used to visit all the time.

3. Show us your oldest piece of art you have on hand.

Alright here’s me actually logging into my old deviantart account. These are from September 2008 So I was 13 years old. I don’t have a deviantart account from before then because 13 was the required age for having an account and I didn’t want to lie about my age because I wanted people to be impressed by how young yet clearly incredible at art I was LOL.

4. What defines your artistic style?

You guys are probably more equipped to answer this than me but uh... I wanna say... Focus on colors. And... a slightly heavy hand? Like confident... not always well-considered mark making HAH...

Also I think I have a pretty healthy mix of american comics/manga influences. I feel like people who are into american comics always think my art is too manga and people who are into anime/manga always think my art is too american. And I’m taking that as a good sign.

5. Do you practice other styles/have you tried other styles in the past?

I like to think I switch it up a bunch! I mean, these are pretty different, right?

I think I’ve mentioned this before but one thing I really took away from art school is that, for an illustrator at least, art style shouldn’t be consistent. Your greatest weapon is changing the aspects of your style based on the task, the emotions and message you want to illustrate etc. So depending on the project I’m working on, the fandom I’m drawing for, whether I want something to be funny or serious or dramatic, I’ll change things about my style all the time.

One thing I don’t rly post on here is really tight polished work and that’s because I do that for my day job haha. If you’re not paying me... I’m probably not gonna color in the lines.

6. What levels of artistic education have you had?

I have a whole ass diploma LOL. Bachelor of Fine Arts in Illustration. from the Rhode Island School of Design. And I had a great college experience tbh. Besides the student loans. If any of you guys are thinking about art school feel free to e-mail or message me questions or concerns, I’ll be happy to help. Be as honest as I can be.

7. Show us at least one picture you drew or sketched recently that you did not put on a public site.

heres the wandavision kids. Uhh what else do I have...I feel like I’m rummaging for loose change here...

assorted valentines prep doodles

8. What is your favourite piece that you have done?

Well, obviously this is gonna change all the time and generally it’s gonna be my most recent piece LOL. So yeah, why the hell not. I’ll say it’s this one. I have a pretty short memory which I count as a blessing for an artist. I don’t dwell that long on older work and it keeps me moving forward.

10. What do you like most about your art?

I like that it’s something that only I would make! I had this thought fairly recently and I wrote it down in my sketchbook, it’s pretty cheesy and rambling but it felt revolutionary at the time:

So yeah. I like my art best when it’s the most me and for me. And I like it least when it feels like I’m just making something for social media or for other people’s expectations or whatever.

14. What do you like drawing the most?

Kids in baggy clothing are like my go-to LOL idk if that’s obvious. but also I like being challenged so lately I’ve really loved drawing multi-character compositions, environments, weird angles, etc.

oh i LOVE drawing the underside of shoes lol. And bandages. People that are kinda beat up.. I think it comes from getting a bunch of cuts all the time. I’m always patching myself up and I want to patch characters up too.

15. What do you like drawing the least?

mmm I try to find something to like in every drawing but lets see... I don’t like doing commissions of people’s dogs. Just because it’s normally like... a family friend and my mom volunteered me without my consent and I don’t even really know what they’re expecting me to draw and I don’t even get to meet the dog. Also I’m not that great at dog anatomy. Trying to learn though.

18. What is your purpose for drawing?

This could have a million answers! Uhhh to GIT GOOD??? But also to express myself... and also to make money... I mean it depends on what the drawing IS. I draw fanart mostly to connect to people in the fandom so if you ever see me drawing fanart please take it as like an open invitation to talk to me about the character haha. 

20. How would you rank your art? (poor, mediocre, good, etc.)

Good!!! I have a lot of self-confidence primarily born out of ignorance and a short attention span. If I don’t think too hard about how many other artists are mindblowingly unfathombly good... its easy to think I’m good too! LOL

In all seriousness though, I think the opinion a person has of their art is like a crazy balancing act, right? Like you have to think you suck enough to want to get better but also you have to think you’re good enough to not want to give up. I think we’re all walking that line, I know I am! But also I’m a glass half-full type of person so. Most of the time I feel good about it.

22. List at least one of your “artspirations.”

This is a good question because I’ve been trying and failing to put together one of those “influence map” memes for like a full month now. What’s giving me a hard time is I feel like none of these are actually really obvious “““influences”““ in my art? Like it’s hard to see a lot of them in the work I make...? But idk maybe you guys’ll see what I can’t.

And these are just a couple! God there’s so many more. I could talk about other artists for ages, from all different genres of art. Daumier, Rockwell like every illustrator out there, Dana Gibson, Alex Toth, Hiroshi Yoshida, a lot of the Brandywine School. Lots of current working artists too, Karl Kerschl, frikkin Masashi Kishimoto lol, Jake Wyatt, Richie Pope, Edouard Caplain, Matt Cook, Sachin Teng, - lots of big internet artists, Sophie Li, Freddy Carrasco, Milliofish, Angela Sung... like all my friends from art school too. I could just keep going but I’ll stop for now lol.

24. Do you have a shameful art past? (recolour sprite comics, tracing art, etc.)

I mean if that’s how we’re defining shameful?? sure LOL. It’s not sprite comics but I used to do pokemon sprite recolors all the time. And I used to trace manga panels and color them... Granted this was all when I was like under 12 yrs old so it’s not even embarrassing. Can you really call it shameful when a 7 year old wets the bed or whatever? Not really. In fact some of these are cool as fuck. Look

25. Draw a picture!

Man I’m so tired now but here.

I used to get a lot of compliments for drawing people smiling lol but I don’t think I’ve drawn a lot of smiling lately.. here’s proof I’ve still got it.

OK MEME DONE. onto the rest.

I read this ask first thing when i opened my computer in the morning and it made me really emotional.. I’m so glad my sketches could help you!!

I think a lot of artists on social media talk about the struggle of making art but imo not enough people talk about the joy! Like I know it’s corny but. I really meant what I said at the beginning of that sketchbook about re-contextualizing art around process and progress > product and perfection. I think its super important..! The strength of messy, unfinished, and energetic art! For the feeling of it, for the love it!

That's crazy!!! I hope you like 'em. The whole line of x-books is really good rn imo.

Hi! I totally have the answer for digital stuff on my faq lol. But in terms of drawing on paper.. it varies! I tend to use sketchbooking and any on-paper doodling I do as a way to loosen up/warm-up or experiment. But right now my go-to aresenal is:

from top > bottom

- kuretake no.55 doublesided brush pen

- tombow fudenosuke

- muji 0.38 ballpoint

- medium size poscas

- grey tombow double brush pens

- good ol bic mechanical pencil

not EXACTly sure which inking you referring to from my sketchbook but if I had to take a guess it'd probably be the kuretake no55. That's been my main inker, lately. Great for sketching with the thin end too.

You can print out and eat my art if you like. Just please don't mass produce or re-sell. <3

Thanks! I've come to accept that my art is always gonna be sort of gestural and painty naturally. It's getting it to tighten up enough to be legible that's hard lol...

uh yeah lol I agree actually. I think yolei is great.

I assume these asks are related? LOL

1) Yeah totally true. I love David.

2) I don’t take requests, sorry! But if you want to commission me to draw Legion i would be MORE than happy to. Just e-mail me at isellhotdogs@gmail.com.

<33333333333333333333333333

[carnalpleasure]

Part 2 of hospital!jim x reader 🏩 i didnt plan on writing a part two so lets see where this goes!!

warnings: drug mention, hospital mention, lots of angst?

Cupid & Psych

You and Jim spent the rest of the night talking. He filled you in on what life was like in Palos Verdes. It was vastly different from your life in Santa Monica, even though the cities were only 40 minutes away from each other.

You chose to live in Santa Monica though. Poor Jim never had a choice when his parents moved him and his twin sister to the most stuck up city in LA county. The locals guarded their beaches more fiercely than wolf packs guard their territory. A rabid wolf wouldn’t stand a chance against a PV soccer mom.

Santa Monica was the polar opposite. It proudly shared its shore with the misfits of Venice Beach. They had everything from ferris wheels and roller coasters to freak shows and street performers. The residents were just as unique and eccentric as the city.

Almost every building was covered in street art. Some of it legal, most of it not. But all of it was beautiful to you. That’s why you chose to run away here.

But restarting your life didn’t bring you the kind of excitement and freedom you thought it would. No matter where you moved, your demons packed their emotional baggage and came too. And that’s how you ended up in the emergency room of the UCLA Health Center.

Jim talked for hours about his adventures with the Bay Boys. They were his only escape from his hellish home life. He idolized a few of them. Not just for their surfing skills, but for their freedom and their pride.

They didn’t care when some pissed off old people started yelling at them to get off the cliffs. Or when angry locals threatened to call the cops on them for playing their music too loud. They didn’t worry, they just flipped them off and partied harder.

But the best thing about hanging with the boys? They always had something around to take the edge off. Liquor, pills, weed, it didn’t matter. He wanted to try it all. And he did. And that’s how he ended up in the emergency room of the UCLA Health Center.

You’d had plenty of your own experiences with drugs. Anyone could walk down the Venice strip and easily meet some old hippie holding shrooms, acid, oxy... whatever the vice, it could be found in Venice. So for every shameful drug induced story he shared with you, you had one to match. And he was so relieved to have someone he could relate to.

The two of you quickly came to realize how many similarities you shared. You were the same age, although he was a few months older. You both loved being in the ocean, even in the winter. You both had neurotic moms and absent dads who preferred their new families. You were both young, lost, alone, and looking for a way out.

Your family was just as dysfunctional as his. Chaos had always surrounded your home like a curse and you got away from there the first chance you got. And now you avoided them like a virus.

But Jim wasn’t so lucky. Tomorrow he would be going back home to take care of his manic depressive mother. And he’d have to put on a brave face for his sister, even though he thought she was so much stronger than he was.

“She has it hard too,” his said with a frown. “My mom treats her like shit.. because she’s young, I guess?” he shrugged, sighing softly. “I don’t know. But it’s different. My mom puts pressure on her to look nice. Yeah, that sucks. But she’s got me doing everything with her now,” he groaned.

You were both lying in your beds now. There was barely a foot of space separating the beds, but you were both lying on the very edges, as close as you could possibly get to each other.

He was lying curled up in a relaxed fetal position, his face resting comfortably on the pillow and his hands tucked under. And you were lying on your side, propped up on your elbow to get a better view of him.

You were mindlessly playing with your hair, running your hands through the length of it and curling it around your fingers. You didn’t notice yourself doing it, but he couldn’t take his eyes off you.

You could see his eyes getting sleepy now. His blinks becoming slower, more drawn out as he fought to keep them open. Neither of you wanted to fall asleep tonight. It was like an unspoken agreement. You just kept taking turns talking to try to keep each other up.

“It’s not easy being.. Mommy’s Favorite,” he said sarcastically, cringing at the name and pouting.

“It’s like a full time fucking job.. all these new responsibilities. I’m paying bills and balancing checkbooks and I don’t even know what the fuck I’m doing.”

You could see him getting worked up. He was talking faster, his brows furrowed, and his bottom lip trembled. There was so much anger in his eyes but he looked like he just wanted to cry.

“I’m not ready,” his voice cracked.

Without thinking, you immediately got up from your bed and crawled into his. He slid back to make room for you, holding the lightweight blanket open until you were safely tucked away under it with him.

He pulled you into his arms from behind and you curled into his body. He broke down the instant he got his arms around you. You could hear his quiet sobs as he buried his face in your neck. You could feel his tears softly rolling down your skin.

He was holding you so tight, his whole body formed to match the curve of yours. You turned to roll over so you could face him. He quickly hid his face in your chest, and you held it close, running your fingers through his hair and up and down his neck softly.

That seemed to soothe him pretty quick. After a few minutes of lying with his head pressed to your chest, listening to your heartbeat, feeling your fingertips on his skin.. his breathing relaxed and his tears stopped.

The feeling of your fingertips brushing against his skin made him feel better than any high. You kissed the top of his head and he thought his heart was going to burst through his chest.

When he finally got all the tears out, his eyes fluttered up at you to gauge your reaction. He’d never cried in front of a girl before, besides his sister. He was basically trained to put on a happy face all the time and never show any unpleasant emotions. He almost felt mortified for letting you see him like that.

You just smiled down at him lovingly and let him wrap himself around you. His legs intertwined with yours and he rested his head on your chest. He closed his eyes, and you thought he might finally drift off to sleep. But he took a deep breath and quietly continued.

“She keeps calling me the man of the house.” He sounded so sad the way he said it. He needed to vent and you were the first person he felt comfortable enough sharing any of this with.

He couldn’t even talk like this with Medina anymore. She didn’t treat him the same anymore. She treated him more like a kid. It felt like she was always judging him now. For his choices, his habits, his friends. He always felt like he disappointed her.

“Really-“ he hesitated before finishing his thought, looking up at you nervously. You kissed the tip of his nose and that was more than enough to comfort him. “Really.. I think she’s just using me as a stand in for the husband she can’t let go of..”

He said it so quietly. There was fear in his eyes. It was the first time he’d ever admitted it to himself or to anyone. He could never say it out loud because it made him feel so guilty to think about his mom that way.

You ran your fingers lazily up and down his back, dragging your nails gently. You just wanted to take his mind off everything somehow. Give him a distraction. A different feeling to focus on.

His hospital gown was loosely tied at the top. You tugged on one of the strings until the knot unraveled and the back of his gown fell open, exposing his sun-kissed skin.

His muscles were firm and toned from all the paddling against the waves. Yet his skin was baby soft. He had freckles all across his back and shoulders. You traced your fingers over the little constellations, playing connect the dots with his beauty marks.

Your fingertips trailed lazily across his shoulders and down his spine. He just signed, easing in to the feeling of your touch. Resting his head comfortably on your breasts and nuzzling his face into them. He closed his eyes and a little yawn escaped his lips.

“Go to sleep, Jimmy,” you whispered tenderly in his ear before placing a soft kiss on his temple. He smelt like vanilla.

“I don’t wanna leave you,” he whimpered into your chest, shaking his head.

It melted your heart and then broke it. You’d been avoiding thinking about it all night, but the sky was already getting lighter out. You were going to be split up in just a few hours. As much as you wanted to hope for a happy ending, you didn’t expect this prince to come back for you.

You were still searching for something to say back when you felt his arms tighten around your waist. “Stay with me,” his voice was soft, almost fragile.

You had to say something to soothe him but you didn’t want to lie to him either. It physically hurt you to see how much he needed someone to love him. And god, you would’ve been the best at it.

If you had met each other under normal circumstances, you would’ve dated. Fallen in love. Made a family of your own together. And you’d never fuck it up. Your kids would be happy.

You may have been given a second chance at life, but you weren’t that lucky.

“I’m right here, baby. You can go to sleep, I’m right here,” you carefully assured him. You kissed the top of his head and brushed your fingers tenderly across his cheek. He nestled into your chest and your steady heartbeat slowly lulled him right to sleep.

But you didn’t dare fall asleep that night. You were in bed with an angel and you were going to cherish every last moment you had with him.

He’d spent the first few days watching you sleep, falling for you before he ever got to know you. And now here he was, spending his last few hours sleeping in your arms.

You couldn’t help but feel like Juliet, holding her late lover’s body for the last time. And you could understand now why she drove a dagger through her heart right after.

She was right. Parting is such sweet sorrow.

💕taglist: @sexwon131 @jimmason @whatcodysaid @theneverendinghunger @angelicmichael @thewarriorprincessxo (lemme know if u wanna be removed! xo)

[shinsousbedroom]

Stars and their Distance

Daiya no Ace misawa FWB AU, 1/10 chapters

Miyuki Kazuya, a depressed, workaholic catcher in the NPB, and Sawamura Eijun, a frustrated influencer who just got dumped, are both looking for temporary distraction. The casual, no-strings-attached friends with benefits thing they stumble into is exactly that.

Well, it would be if either of them knew how to do casual.

[Read on AO3.]

Chapter 1: Spinning

Excerpt from “Ace of Hearts: a blog about when love comes outta left field!; Q&A: Bad Break-Up Blues”

“[…] Think of relationships like this. You’re a pitcher on the mound and there’s a line up of batters waiting to knock your ball outta the park. These are your dating prospects. When you’ve gotten hurt pitching before—tore a tendon, drilled the batter, balked, whatever it was—you might not wanna pitch again, right? But the only surefire way to lose the game is to not throw the ball at all. 

“You might be thinking, ‘But Eijun, if the batter hits a home run off your pitch, aren’t you losing the game?’ Well, if you think the point of the game is to win, sure. But to me, the point of baseball isn’t victory. It’s playing the best game you can with the best players you can. The same can be said for love. Some batters will foul out early, and some runners will never make it all the way home. But when you make that connection, when that bat slams the ball out of the park and the whole field feels the electric rush of a phenomenal play that you helped make—isn’t that a beautiful moment to chase after? Isn’t that feeling worth the risk that comes with love?

“So no matter how unlikely a batter steps up to your plate—and there will be batters you didn’t anticipate—throw the pitch! I promise, every strikeout and home run just makes you a better pitcher and brings you a step closer to a beautiful game. […]”

***

“Did you have to move right after the end of the season?” Kuramochi wiped off the sweat from his face with the bottom of his blue shirt. The whole thing was already drenched dark, consistently doused with water the whole day through as Kuramochi drained bottles over his head to beat back the unseasonably hot September day. “Take a fucking break first, Miyuki.”

Kazuya spat out a handful of screws. The bitter, metallic aftertaste clung to his mouth. “Why delay?” he said, tossing the instruction manual for his shelf to the side in frustration. It skittered across the hardwood floor and into Chris’ calf. 

Chris plucked the booklet up and thumbed through the pages of mildly helpful pictograms, eyeing them warily against Kazuya’s clear lack of progress. “Yeah, Miyuki. Why delay?”

Kazuya shot Chris a sour look and flopped back onto the ground with a groan, defeated. “Not like we’re busy during postseason this year.” 

They sighed in unison, united in the bitterness of loss. 

At least Chris’ team had been only one out from the Climax Series. The Swallows hadn’t come close, and even though it was expected from a rebuild year, the loss still rankled. Small mercies, though: Kazuya could rub in the fact that the Swallows hadn’t been last place in their league unlike the Mariners. 

Suck it, Kuramochi. He’d take his victories where he could.

Kazuya stuck his hand into the air, spreading his fingers wide as the overhead lights filtered between them. “Anyway. Moving is work, and you all banned me from working for the next four months. So really, I’m being responsible here.” His hand flopped down next to him with a hard thunk. 

Kuramochi trudged over, heavy steps echoing through the empty apartment, until his head popped into Kazuya’s vision, arms crossed and scowl fierce. “If you wanna try to fight this again, just give me a fucking reason to pin you into a headlock until you’re crying for mercy.”

Kazuya grabbed at his ankle, rolling onto his stomach for a second swipe as Kuramochi danced out of reach. 

“You can’t pull a fast one on the cheet—AH!” 

His ankles caught the edge of the shelf boards, knocking Kuramochi onto his ass. The wooden slats scraped across each other as they slid out of their neat stacks, thumping and scratching the floor until they were criss-crossed between Kazuya cackling into the floor on his stomach and Kuramochi, shocked and sprawled across the debris.

“Fucking build your furniture, Miyuki!” He cradled his foot in his hands, holding it up to inspect as he twisted it every which way. “We’re not doing the same thing as last time, when it took you a full year to finally put all your shit together.”

The weight of apathy slid back into Kazuya’s limbs, edging out the laughter that had given him a moment of relief. “What if I just didn’t?”

“Is that what you want?” Chris replied evenly.

He lolled his head towards Chris. Despite the heat, Chris had spent all day in a black turtleneck, never once hinting he was even mildly uncomfortable even at the peak of the day’s heat, lugging in heavy boxes from the sun-warmed streets. Now sitting on the floor among bubble wrap and crumpled paper, legs kicked out in front of him and waves of brown bangs framing his face, he still looked as wholly put together as ever. 

Even when Kazuya knew beyond a doubt Chris was the epitome of keeping a stone face even when he was going through the worst of it, he still couldn’t help but be jealous. 

Kazuya went back to staring at the unfamiliar gray tiles on his new ceiling. “It would be pretty funny to leave my apartment unfurnished to spite Kuramochi.”

“Finish the shelf.” Chris tossed the manual back. 

“Kominato’s the one who left the task half-done,” Kazuya said, closing his eyes, overwhelmed in a sudden wash of fury and helplessness. 

He opened his eyes to see Kuramochi and Chris hovering above him again. Both their brows were furrowed, Kuramochi’s fist clenched at his collar, Chris frowning mildly. 

“I’m fine,” Kazuya said brusquely.

They glanced at each other, then back at Kazuya. 

He sat up, forcing the other two to reel back to avoid knocking their heads together. “I’m 27, not 7,” he said, testily. “I don’t need to be put under a watch, I’m a grown ass adult.”

“We aren’t gonna—we can’t sit to the side and watch you nearly kill yourself from overwork again this off-season.” 

“Don’t exaggerate—“

“You said you had it together last year, but you didn’t. So you’re getting strict rules this year,” Kuramochi tugged at his hair, a frustrated sneer on his face. “The Swallows and your agent both know not to let you pile on more than your bare minimum until preseason. And the rest of us are going to check on you regularly because we care about your health, even when you don’t. Got it?”

“It’s not overwork,” he said, falling into the same argument that had been chipping away at him for a year now. 

“Then what is it?”

The only coping mechanism that works. The only way I can pretend to feel anything off the diamond. The only thing that makes me tired enough to sleep at night without baseball 24/7.

He settled on: “It’s just work. Making a living, some might say.”

“Hard to do that when you’re stuck in a hospital bed.”

“That won’t happen again. I was just stressed and tired and a bad day caught me off guard.”

“Yeah, it won’t again because we’re gonna help make sure the off-season doesn’t wreck you again after a long history of hiding your fucking problems until they explode.”

“At least you can’t take conditioning away from me.”

“Follow the plan your trainers set for you.” Chris’ voice cut into Kazuya’s stubbornness. “Please don’t joke about this with me.”

After a moment, Kazuya nodded his head, brusque.

Kuramochi rubbed the back of his neck, trying to break the awkward air that had sprung up between them. “Isn’t exercise supposed to help depressed people? Boost your serotonin up or some shit like that?”

“Just my luck it doesn’t,” Kazuya muttered. He cleared his throat. “Can we go back to harassing me about how bad I am at unpacking?”

“We wouldn’t harass you if you just did it.” Kuramochi stood back up and kicked at a box as he went back to sweeping the floors. “Unpack before the season starts up again. You have nearly five months. If you’re feeling feisty, try decorating your apartment, too.”

“My entire personality is baseball. I don’t care about interior design. Or anything else, for that matter.”

“You used to. Pick up your old hobbies. Bring out that telescope you had at back at Waseda. Read a memoir. All the shit you can’t do during the season, drag ‘em out into the open again.”

The wrong answer, he knew, was to reiterate that he didn’t care about any of that anymore. Seriously. “You two are busy-bodies.”

Chris handed him the power drill then returned to the pile of securely wrapped glass kitchenware. “It’s called friendship,” he said, bubble wrap crinkling.

“This is ridiculous.”

“Just try, Miyuki. Please.”

“Sure,” he said, flippantly, knowing the lie didn’t pass unnoticed from the sag in Kuramochi’s shoulders. He thumbed through the instructions, pushing aside the guilt welling into his throat. Kazuya needed this conversation to be over. “Chris-senpai, where’d you put the drill bits?”

***

“Hjnhbgfgvbhnjmknjbhgvfdbghnjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjj” wasn’t the most eloquent start to Eijun’s next blog post. Of course, Eijun normally didn’t start his articles by rolling his face across the keyboard in frustration, but considering how little he’d written in the past week, this was as good a draft as any.

Eijun’s eyes flung open as the laptop shifted from under his face, tipping his head off to thunk into the table. He rubbed at his forehead, and blinked up to find Harucchi tapping delicately at the keyboard while the other hand balanced the device in the air. “Eijun-kun,” said Harucchi, peering from around the screen, “not your finest work.”

Eijun sat up and scowled, the lines of his face scrunching against the keyboard indents on his skin. “What would you know about it?” 

“I’ve been editing your posts for years,” Harucchi said. He settled the laptop in front of Eijun, then settled into the chair across from him. “If you’d like me to stop now, I can happily use that time in other ways.”

The dishes rattled when Eijun slammed his palm onto the table. “You’re not allowed to ditch me like that!” 

Harucchi raised his eyebrows. “Says the man who’s been avoiding me.”

A double blow of panic and then confusion struck him. He frowned and swiveled his head around. Snaking line at the counter, coffee scenting the air, a low hum of incomprehensible chatter: this was definitely the coffee shop he’d just discovered this morning and came to by himself and didn’t tell Harucchi about. “How’d you find me?”

“You should stop posting your location on Instagram if you don’t want to be found,” he offered with a gentle smile.

“You don’t live anywhere near here.”

“A teammate just moved to the neighborhood. It was pure luck I happened to be there while you happened to be here.” He ran his fingers against the edge of a plate by Eijun’s elbow, empty of all but crumbs. “It’s a cute shop. New haunt for you?” he asked, a touch too casual.

Eijun averted his eyes, lips pinching. He knew what Harucchi was really asking. “I’m fine.”

“I didn’t ask that.”

“I’m doing fine,” Eijun insisted. “Really.”

“I’m glad you stopped feeling obligated to go to the other cafe.” His voice was barely loud enough to reach Eijun, covered by the clatter and call of employees, and a particularly rowdy group of seven students packed at a four person table next to his little corner.

“The old place got too many baristas who sucked,” Eijun lied. As if Harucchi didn’t already know that he’d only just shoved his pride aside enough to accept he’d lost his favorite coffee shop to the break-up. “Had to find a new one.”

Harucchi pried open the plastic lid to his coffee, blowing at the steam rising from the cup. He drew in a long, slow slip of his drink. “Maybe a fresh start here means a fresh start with the blog. Talk about grinding new beans, or something…?” Eijun blanched, well aware that Harucchi’s innocent reputation was a front. 

“If you think I am going to subject my loyal followers to love advice using bean grinding as the topic—”

“You’ll have to excuse me if you had an idea in mind already. I’d thought from the keysmashing that you hadn’t.” Eijun aimed a kick at his shin under the table. Without looking, Harucchi crossed his legs, as if he’d planned on it for that exact moment all along instead of the attempt to dodge Eijun’s ire that it really was. “Is there a reason you can’t find an appropriate topic for your next post?”

Eijun cheeks puffed out, determined for two whole seconds not to tell Harucchi the truth, before blurting out, “I promised Wakana we’d wait a few months before officially announcing we broke up.” And yep—there it was, that classic Kominato passively skeptical look that circled past nonjudgmental so thoroughly that it ended up aggressively intimidating. The one that meant Harucchi was seconds away from bulldozing through all the nonsense he was seeing ahead of him. Eijun lived in terror of it. “She wanted to give us a chance to recuperate in private first,” he muttered, defensive. 

“Eijun-kun.”

“I know, I know! A smart idea for people like Wakana, but I don’t…like wallowing like this. I can’t keep sitting here thinking about how much she doesn’t want me, and it’s all I want to write about. But I can’t post any of it. It’s been nearly two months, and I haven’t moved on. I’ve just gotten madder.”

“You two didn’t consider posting a small announcement saying you were over but you needed time? Space?”

“I couldn’t ask her.” Eijun subsided, spinning his teacup in its saucer with a single finger hooked through its tiny handle. “I owe her, Harucchi. The only reason I started lifestyle and romance blogging was because Wakana got me into it. I made my start on her profiles with her followers. Talking about her now? Why we broke up? Even if I want to, it sounds like betraying her. I don’t want anyone thinking I’m trying to talk shit about her, when we’re both in the same influencer circles.”

Harucchi tilted his head, and when Eijun didn't continue on after several seconds, he prompted, “There’s more.”

So much for the dumb jock stereotype.

“If I write it, then I feel like I’m giving up on her. On us ever being something together, again.” He crossed his arms onto the table, elbows shoving the dishes and laptop uncomfortably close to the edge of the small table, and laid his head on his forearms. He closed his eyes, and said quietly into his chest, “I still love her, Harucchi.”

“I know, Eijun-kun.” A warm hand squeezed his elbow. Between their silence, the monstrous table of college students packed up and left, and suddenly the shop settled into a calm Eijun needed. 

He poked his head up from the comfort of his arms to stare at Harucchi. He was steadily sipping his coffee, one hand resting on Eijun’s elbow. His pink hair had pulled out of the bun at his nape and fell into windswept wisps framing his face and neck. He’d long since stopped wearing Ryou-san’s hand-me-downs in favor of softer, luxe sweaters and slacks, the only true expense he indulged in despite his lucrative status as a rising star for the Swallows.

Altogether, he looked gentle, dangerously so. On the diamond or off, it was easy to be lulled into a sense of security right before he whacked an unpleasant truth out of the park. 

Harucchi pulled his hand back and apologized with a glance. Eijun wasn’t sure why…until he started speaking. “You make a living off of posting about your life—and romance, in particular. You’ve never hidden your past relationship troubles from your followers, however difficult it was to express. It’s part of your brand at this point.”

Eijun’s mouth twisted as he sat up. “Wakana isn’t a branding tool.”

“No one is saying that,” Harucchi said patiently. “What I am saying: you underestimate how much of your own work goes into your success. Aotsuki was certainly helpful—but your personality and your words are why people stay. People trust you.

“You’re good at what you do, Eijun-kun. You’re honest and kind in your observations, to yourself, to your partners, to strangers, despite how difficult and personal love is. When the time comes, whatever you post about Aotsuki will be the same.” Harucchi shrugged. “Also, I’ll edit out anything that makes you sound insensitive.”

Eijun let out a heavy sigh, stretching his arms into the air and shaking off the melancholy. “Thanks for not letting me fall on my own sword.”

“What are friends for?”

For all that he felt better, though, Eijun was still stuck staring at a blinking cursor at the end of a line of drivel. “That still doesn’t solve my problem. I don’t have a clue what to post next. The schedule I followed is trash now without personal updates of me and Wakana. I haven’t been able to binge any of the manga or shows I wanted to review, either. All I got left is the advice column, but if I keep that up with nothing else, I might as well change the blog name to Dear Eijun instead of Ace of Hearts.”

Harucchi stared at him, calculating out something as he took in Sawamura’s restlessness. “You don’t have to keep writing about romance.”

“That’s what I started the blog for.”

“But that’s not why you started writing and recording back at Seidou. You’ve had success with your baseball analysis and tutorials on YouTube and Instagram. You could even say you’ve been neglecting them to chase after romance.”

Eijun groaned, loud and theatrical enough to make the meek businessman behind him jump in shock. “Maybe if I got as much engagement talking about how stupid the idea of celebrity athletes are when it’s a team sport—”

“See?” he cut in, tilting his cup toward Eijun. “You already have a topic to post about.”

“Baseball is my hobby, not my job,” he said mulishly, jaw jutting out. “My dad wrecked his love of music that way! I’m not gonna risk hating baseball after he spent my whole life yelling at me not to ‘monetize my interests’ while holding me in a headlock. That’s asking for the biggest lecture of my life!”

“You can always stop if it’s not the direction you want to go. You’re not getting married to the idea.”

“Don’t bring up marriage, I just got dumped!”

Harucchi pressed his lips together in a thin line. “Fine, don’t think of it as a marriage,” he said. From Harucchi, the sliver of impatience he let free was the equivalent of hauling Eijun by the collar and shaking him down. “Flirt with baseball. Go on a few dates. Get a benefit or two out of it. Does the metaphor suffice now?”

Eijun gasped. “Harucchi! You’re too innocent for that sort of talk!”

“My brother is Kominato Ryousuke, and my best friend writes a blog about romance and sex that I edit,” he said, even as his quiet voice went squeaky and his face mottled bright red from embarrassment. 

“Maybe I should change my blog to save you the embarrassment.”

“I also admit I have a request of you,” Harucchi said sheepishly, pressing a hand to his cheek. “The Swallows want me to get more heavily involved in PR this offseason, and I could use your help figuring out what I’d actually like to do instead of going along with every idea they propose. I’ve seen what they make the other players do, and I’m not interested in doing the exact type of promo they’ve done the past few seasons.”

Eijun crossed his arms and leaned back, chin tilting up defensively. “If you’re trying to convince me by pretending you need help—”

Harucchi shook his head, bangs bouncing across his forehead. “I hope you’ll find value or inspiration in it, too, but I was going to ask, regardless.” He grimaced into his cup. “The players who carry most of the strain of Swallows marketing are…otherwise occupied this offseason. I was volunteered to step in; management’s been wanting me to raise my profile for a while. I can’t really say no, so I may as well make the most of it.”

“I don’t want a pity job.”

“Please, be reasonable.” Harucchi smiled the shy, dreamy, polished smile the Swallows had been trying to splash across their advertising since he joined the team. “It’s a pity favor.”

Eijun snorted, relaxing into his chair again. “Fine,” he said, pulling open a clean document on his laptop. “Let’s brainstorm.”

[lunnamars]

lunami prompt: during a fight nami is hurt in a "normal" way (like a twisted ankle), idk how to evolve the story but maybe luffy helps her by giving her a piggyride?

Hello, dear anon! Sorry for the delay, but here it comes an oneshot. I hope you like it!

Another ambush, another clashing with the Marines in high seas and another ordinary day for Luffy to come back completely worn out and hurt. Really hurt. Bleeding. And every common human, being in its right mind, would decide to be bandaged and lie down to hopefully sleep and rest. 

However, not Luffy. Never Luffy. The captain is no normal human being, he doesn’t abide by the rules. So instead of being fast asleep in the infirmary, the boy was right in front of her, full of bandages from head to toe, worried because she had a swollen ankle.

A fucking swollen ankle.

Dear God.

Nami sighed and said for the hundredth time, "Luffy, you don’t need to keep carrying me all the time. I said I’m fine."

But the captain was stubborn as a mule. "But Nami~! What if you fall because it’s hurting too much? WHAT IF YOU LOSE YOUR FEET??"

Luffy had a bigger imagination than all of them, but she wondered if he really believed in the nonsense he says sometimes. She grimaced and blinked, "Sometimes… sometimes I don’t know where you get these ideas from."

"You're not a doctor, you idiot. You don't know about these stuff", he gave her his usual childish pout, and Nami could only roll her eyes.

"Yeah, but neither do you. Anyway, stop with the piggyback ride. I can walk on my own."

Nami stood up and started walking away from him when suddenly a sharp pain pulsed on her ankle and she had to lean in the wall next to the stairs. She cursed because it hurt and because she could feel that victory smile on Luffy's face. She didn’t even need to turn around to see his crooked smile and his arched eyebrow. 

The navigator sighed again for the two hundredth time and said with her back still turned, "Go on. Say 'I told you so'."

She stood still, waiting for him to say something or laugh at her, but nothing came. When she least expected, Luffy had scooped her in his arms and glanced at her with a big toothy smile. "Luffy, I told you not to—"

"You told me to stop with the piggyback ride. This is bridal style, Nami. Are you dumb?"

Bridal style?! How the hell he knows this?

"Dumb?! The nerve of you, you rubber man—!", Nami raised her fist to punch his face, but he dodged. Then, out of nowhere, his expression became serious and he whispered.

"You're too proud, Nami. I'm here to help. Don't you know that?"

Nami closed her eyes, inhaled his scent, touched the skin that wasn’t covered by any bandage, and spoke softly, "Luffy. I just twisted my ankle. It's not a big deal. Yes, it hurts when I walk but I want you to rest."

"But I'm worried about you", he whined.

The navigator knew why he was worried — he thought it was his fault that she got hurt. In the middle of all the chaos, Luffy had bumped into her and lost his balance; Nami just did what she could so they wouldn’t fall flat on the ground but in the process, well, she had sprained her ankle. No big deal at all. Why couldn't he understand that? It's nothing compared to the punch in the stomach Luffy received. 

And it angers her to no end this selflessness he has sometimes. He should be in bed, resting, not being restless because of such a foolish thing. So she tried a different and softer approach. 

“Luffy, I'm kinda tired. Wanna lie down with me? Guess Robin wouldn't mind.”

Anyone who would listen to such words would definitely scold her or give her a very disapproving look. An unmarried woman lying with a man? What a sin!

But Nami didn't care. She knew Luffy, she knew he harbored no romantic feelings for her and didn't have a single malicious bone in his body, so she had no reason to feel threatened. Or ashamed. 

“Yeah! Let's go, Nami!”

At the exact moment the words fell out of her mouth, she knew Sanji would be coming in hot, jumping right at Luffy's jugular. 

“You damned rubber man!! How dare you get into the bed of the beautiful Nami-san?!?!!”

Nami already raised her hands to stop him.

“It's alright, Sanji-kun. I'm really tired indeed.”

“But Nami-swaaan, he doesn't need to lie down with you!!”, Sanji whined and pouted. Then he had heart eyes again, “I can go with you!!”

Sometimes Nami didn't know where Sanji got the idea that she'd choose him if he insisted hard and long enough. She thought she was pretty obvious about how she was actually in love with Luffy for quite some time. 

I mean, it's not like she has voiced that, but the navigator thought they'd have understood by now. Robin knew, that Nami was sure, but the crew has never said anything though. 

She wondered if Luffy knew. Nah, probably not. It's not any of his interests.

A pity. She wished it was. 

But no matter. Nami still liked what they had — this strong companionship, the undeniable loyalty, and trust. It was enough. 

(Sometimes it wasn't, to be honest, but that were times when she was just being selfish). 

“Well, but I want him to, but thanks for always worrying, Sanji-kun. C'mon Luffy, I really wanna—”, she stopped mid-sentence the moment she looked at Luffy with raised eyebrows and a gaping mouth. What? Did she say something wrong?

“Luffy?”

“Mhmm, sure, Nami”, he looked away and started walking towards the girl's room, with Nami on his arms. 

She frowned and didn't know why he looked surprised. Maybe I did say something wrong. 

—

“C'mon Luffy, come to bed”, she sighed and massaged her temples. 

“Ahhh Nami~, I wanna watch more tv~!”, Luffy whined and glared at her. 

“Luffy, come to bed right now. Don't make me go there and drag you by the hair.”

Luffy was right beside her in a lightning speed. 

“Smart decision.”

Nami fetched another pillow, made room for him and covered the both of them. She found a position that wouldn’t hurt her ankle and then, helped Luffy settle down.  

“Nami, why did you say you wanted me to come lie down with you?”, Luffy was looking at her with his funny owlish eyes. 

“Why? Do you have a problem with that?”, he shook his head vigorously, “First it's because you make me feel safe and second because you need to rest, Luffy. You're human, you know?”

The captain nodded and brought Nami closer to his chest. Her heart skipped a beat and she caught her breath. His heart was beating at a regular pace and it was almost lulling her into sleep. 

Nami realized what made her so pissed — she was worried sick about him, worried that someday he could get seriously injured because he was one of the most wanted (and hunted) men in the world and her beloved captain could be taken away from her because he was only human.

“Nami. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere. I'm not leaving you guys. I'm not leaving you, stupid.”

His tone was final, there was no hint of doubt and it spoke of a promise. If he could keep that, the navigator had no idea, but she chose to believe in him. She had the knowledge that no one in this world is invincible, not even Luffy (or Zoro or Sanji), but she likes to think he was and will continue to be fucking hard to defeat. 

“You know I don't go down that easily, you dumbass. I also have you guys to protect my back, so I'll be fine. We'll be fine”, his voice was low and kind. 

She still finds amazing how Luffy's emotional perception of people around him was always on point. Especially with the crew, especially with her. Somehow, he knew her and knew what she needed. Like he was inside her mind, living in her brain and forever etched in her heart. She was in love with him (there was literally no doubt about that) and in love with their connection. 

“Promise me, Luffy?”

“Yep.”

“How can you be so sure?”, she asked in her sleepy state. 

“Because I wanna come home to you, shishishi.”

Suddenly, she was wide awake and raised her head to meet his eternal happy grin. Gosh, I fucking love you, stupid man in a straw hat. 

She curled up more in his arms and grunted, “You better do, Monkey D. Luffy. Otherwise, I'll kill you myself.”

Nami felt him jerk, probably frightened, and she just smiled in his chest. 

Please, always come home.

[eyes-like-a-pisces]

Rules: Answer 10 questions, tag 10 people and make another 10 questions.🧜‍♀️

Questions from my astrological twin: @maiden-song 💕

1. if you could choose to glimpse the afterlife, would you?

Yes, I would. I think a lot about It.

2. under what circumstances do you think you past life was lived?

I could have had many past lifes. I think I was a native american, cause I've always felt bonded to their tradicion and same with China, cause when I hear the sound of Erhu - traditional chinese instrument, something wakes up in me. I've also always wanted to see Sweden & Finland, so maybe I was doing something there... I mean, I could do anything. I see myself in biblical times, as well as middle ages. I could be a renaissance artist, as well as dying of hunger during victorian era, or something, and that's probably why I'm still careful with money, haha. For my latest one, I think I could have been a hippie in the 60/70s and had some drug use experience, cause when I was a child I used have dreams about taking drugs, even if I didn't know anything about It. I also had some experience with psychics (and "psychics"), my mom had a past life regression and she told me she saw me few times... I don't take anything for granded, but reincarnation is one of my favourite theories.

3. what three skills would you instantly master if you had the choice?

Playing every instrument, speaking every language, singing beautifully

4. would your rather no passion or no pain?

No pain. Everything is needed in life, but you know, enough is enough.

5. if you had a chance to leave this world and go to another one, would you take it?

Depends of the world and who I would meet there. Even if this world can be cruel and disappointing at times, I still have some love for him and humanity.

6. if you could smell like anything in the world, what would it be?

Like the first day of spring, when you go outside and the air smells different. Or a storm.

7. do you feel like common interests or philosophical comparability are not important?

They are very important. I can't imagine a relationship without similar interests, views. You either get bored or fight constantly. I think that the whole point of searching a partner is trying to find things you got in common. The more similar you are, the more understood you feel and more you are attracted to them. That's my experience at least. That's a very basic example, but as you may noticed, I'm very much into music and I was dating a guy, who wasn't into music that much at all. I thought It doesn't matter at first, but then I started feeling like I'm missing my favourite way to connect with other person. Once I met a guy who loved music as much as I do, I'm sorry to admit It, but my partner became unattractive to me.

Similar interests and views are needed at the beginning, to bond with somebody, and later, to simply enjoy spending time together (thanks Captain Obvious). I mean... chemistry and good will are not enough for a relationship to last. Don't get me wrong, I don't think you have to be identical and agree on everything - some differences can be inspiring, balance your relationship and teach you something new. It's also ok and even needed, to have some separate hobbies, things that you like to do on your own. There are also other important things, like, if you equally care about each other and if you are on the same page in general, but I can't imagine not agreeing in the key points and things that are the most important to you. And the only person who can decide what is the most important is the person who is in that relationship, no matter if It's about interests, philosophy or religion. But beside a romantic relationship, I think It's good to be surrounded by different people and listen what they got to say.

8. if there was one mystery you alone could learn the answer too, what would it be?

The mystery of life in general. Why we are here, is there any destiny, how we are connected, how this universe works, what happens after death...

9. in your opinion, is there anything more important than love?

No :) (I'm not talking about putting your relationship before other things. I'm talking about love as a big force and meaning of this universe)

10. describe a new planet you would live on, if you could.

I want things to be diverse, monumental... Maybe another moon, why not. As a concept of the world, I wish there would be peace :) everybody has their safe place to live, will to live, passion, purpose, someone to love and who loves them back. Amen.

Questions from @mybloodiedvalentine 💕👯

1. What is an unpopular opinion you hold you about which you feel strongly and with which you seem to notice a lot of people disagree?

Nothing specific comes to my mind at the moment (that I haven't mentioned before). I sure have some, but what's unpopular opinion in general and what's unpopular opinion on tumblr, are two different things. Maybe, that the "tumblr positivity" is not really helpful. Like: "in case you need to hear this: you are smart, you are loved... ". How do you know that? Those are just empty words. But It's better to spread positivity than negativity, of course.

2. What is the nicest thing a stranger has ever told you that you can recall?

Oh, I had a few situations like that... This is so lovely, when a stranger wants to just be genuinely nice, not just catcalling you...For example, when I was with my 3 girlfriends at the club and 2 ladies in their 40s where like: "excuse me, we just wanted to say that we can't stop starring at you all, cause you are the priettiest girls in the club." And we were like: aww, omg, you are beautiful too, come dance with us. And we were all dancing in our witches circle ignoring all sweaty men around us, haha. Or when my mom went to the the same hair saloon as me and asked hair dresser if she remembers me and she said that she does and that I'm nice and intelectual. I'm her faithful client now ;_; (Sorry for sucking my own dick, but It was nice to remind myself about these situations).

3. Has a piece of art or music ever made you cry? If so, do you remember a specific moment? 

Crying to music is my passion. The latest intense moment was few days ago. I was loading a dishwasher at night and I played some music and then "lover you should've come over" by Jeff Buckley came on and sudden wave of lonelliness hit me so hard, that I just had to put down the plate, hide my face in my hands and weep ✌

4. What’s your favourite piece of clothing?

Idk, maybe my Penny Lane coat :)

5. What’s a random childhood memory that fills you with a deep sense of comforting nostalgia? 

Sledding with kids during a very cold winter in my home town, until It got dark and snow looked like sprinkled with glitter and having my freezed feet warmed up with a hair dryer, when I came back home, haha.

6. What is/was your favourite thing about your mom? If not your mom, your dad? Or best friend?

My favourite thing about my mom is that she's tolerant and open minded. I didn't have to lie to her or pretend I'm someone I'm not because of that. My favourite thing about my dad is that he actually cared about being a parent, even tho my parents divorced. I respect that he has unwavering morals and huge knowledge about a world - biology, astronomy, music, art...- subject doesn't matter- but he is very modest about It.

7. What’s something you learned on your own of which you’re proud?

Playing guitar

8. When was a moment in your life you remember laughing the hardest?

I was playing cards since I was a kid. After few years, when I was about 13 y. o. I got the first poker, a royal flush. When I saw my cards, I'm not sure why, I just coudn't believe my luck, I started laughing so hard I almost died.

9. What do you like to do when you’re having a hard time mentally that invariably calms you down?

Really depends of the kind of situation and if It's triggered by something or just a longer period of time feeling in a certain way. The is no a magic trick, but some things might be helpful. When It's concrete situation, at first, when the feelings are really intense, then I just can't calm down. Every try to do so, has a reverse effect. Like, I CAN'T THE FUCK CALM DOWN and It makes me even more angry. Brain needs about 20 min to chill, if It's not triggered, so It's better to be left alone and just go mad a little until brain will have enough haha. Have a good cry, listen to some music, have a lonely walk, write my feelings down etc.

I like to listen to Teal Swan on youtube. She's a spiritual teacher. I know, It might not sound encouragingly, but she actually seems very down to earth. She has a video about like, every emotion and every problem ever. She's very good in naming feelings, rationalizing them and It makes you feel more understood. And It calms me down as result. ASMR doesn't work for me, but I remember that at some point I liked to listen to sounds of the nature, like rain, waves etc + guided meditation to fall asleep.

Music always helps in general - listening, playing guitar, singing. I also like to take an oil and do a face massage. I'm really sorry if I sound like an instagram influencer 🤢, but when you feel bad for a longer time, you frown and there is a tention in your jaw, it can be really relieving. I follow instructional videos on yt.

When I have a longer period of going into downward spiral, then every way to distract my brain is good - TV shows, internet content that is not related to my life situation (although, sometimes It's good to distance yourself from social media), for example, I like criminal podcasts, cause they are occupying enough to distract a miserable brain, meeting somebody, going to a place I've never been before. + any kind of shedule, reason to leave the house, any goal, anything positive to look forward to and having even the simplest things done, is a blessing (even if sometimes It's the last thing I wanna do). I also tend to be much sadder in the evening, so I just go to sleep. When nothing works, then It's time for the professional help.

10. Do you have a favourite holiday memory?

Discovering Cocteau Twins.

Best regards if u actually read all that chatter, but those questions were so interesting, that I couldn't limit myself to one sentence answer (in most cases).

My questions are:

1. Who or what was the most influential for your music taste?

2. If you could time travel, where and when would you like to go first?

3. If you could be someone from an opposite gender for a day, how would you like to look like and what would you do?

4. Do you have a style icon/inspiration? Or a favourite designer? Desribe your dream clothing style

5. What's the song by a band/artist from your country that you could recommend? (From your hometown or state eventually)

6. What is the most rebellious thing you've ever done?

7. Has ever something in your life happened, that you coudn't explain with logic?

8. What 5 objects someone could use to summon you?

9. What is your favourite name from your culture's language? And outside your culture's language?

10. What's a song you normally wouldn't admit you like or different from music that you usually listen, but still enjoy?

I tag: @winterdryad @bowiepop @nightmare @confusion-in-the-sea-of-sorrow @l0w-budget @numberoneblind @mirandasinclairs @mysticbride @leperwitch @comeacrossthedesertnoshoeson @hexafu @mielmelancolie @arcane-delight

[chaoticlamphoagietaco]

2020?

Well what can I say, it seems like it’s ending with a bang, but there’s still two months left.

Biden is president, and trump has yet to retaliate, I wonder what that’s going to look like.

My boyfriend and I are having sexual issues, or rather I’m seeing issues in our sexual habits.

It feels one-sided, I please him (he cums), he pleases me and I don’t cum. It’s frustrating because I’ve seen him go on hikes, talk to people for hours, if you can be active in this way, why is it difficult to just suck my dick for like 30? I understand if you lock jaw, but over the course of our relationship, sex has been me being patient and him getting off. It’s hard to maintain sexual interest, and maybe that’s why my mind goes in these fantasies. I’m almost at the point where if we have anal, I know where gonna end up jerking off... maybe I’m asking for too much, or maybe I’m just tired of being patient.... I wanna see if he will be open to swinging, or wearing a long dildo for a couple of days to resolve the issue, but I’m not sure how he will respond, or when this conversation will happen. I’m hoping that Sunday will be the day but I’m not sure.

I miss my mother, I feel her trying to reach me but I struggle to connect to her spirit. There’s so much unsaid, that it’s hard to equate the relationship to only a spiritual level. I... don’t know what I would say. Am I angry for the suppression. Of my dance enthusiasm? Am I upset because I never told her I was gay? Am I upset because she’ll never see the fruition of my dreams?

Ri

Speakings of, I don’t know my dreams,p anymore.... or rather they feel like they are transforming. I wanted to be a research analyst after falling out of love with psychotherapy and sociology, but I realized what that actually meant. Research analyst is a broad term, that can encompass a business, health centers/organizations, government, and nonprofit. And essentially these are all the sectors you. And work for other than a school which I do not want to do. Through my conversation. With NASA I found more about becoming a data analyst, and while the salary was enticing I realized that was a computer science that didn’t incorporate sociology or psychology like I had hoped. When I stumbled upon market/marketing research analyst I was hooked. I knew that finance and accounting wasn’t my passion, but marketing itself wasn’t either. Marketing has been largely traditional, and digital marketing is basically a new field. I think this is why I made the decision to transfer my major so hastily, it encompasses everything I was searching for with program evaluation, I can conduct research based on consumer intelligence which incorporatess social psychology, and have the promising effects of impact. Or in other words, my research will be used and considered valuable to the company I’m working for or working with. In program evaluation, sociology and psychology, the effect that your research has is truly perceptional and has a large ambiguity around its impact. You can go 4-10 years without achieving a goal you intended, which is expected and encouraged in some situations. On top of all this, withi program Evaluation and psychology there’s an expectation around the support you give in the exchange. Not only am I conducting research for MBH, but we (the school) are helping the business attract African America. Participants to their establishment, which can be done in so many different ways, it would take. A considerable amount of money, resources, and process and attention needs to be there if you want to achieve an impact. How can this be achieved when the business in itself is not liable for its own pretentiousness? Or it’s own self-processing that I can’t change? Thankfully, with marketing I get the best of both worlds. I can incorporate my social psychology background, while also attending to my creative side in branding, and even furthermore conducting meaningful research that is almost guaranteed to have an impact (since if I don’t, I’m not doing my job well haha) and will be used as vital data for profitability will not only motivate me to take the job, my peers, and the business seriously, but will also compensate me tremendously well, I mean it’s very lie,oh that in 2-3 years time I could be making a 6 figure salary. With this in mind, I feel Clarity around my occupational pursuits, but as for my dreams... that’s another story...

My dance past is struggle to bring up, even typing....,

I was so close, yet everything was taking from me, and I couldn’t do anything to stop it.

With this, I keep falling in and out of love with dance, I watch a video and I feel inspired to dance again. I’m feeling more drawn to Alonzo Lines ballet, Nunes, and of course my all time favorite Batsheva. But watching hip hop videos make me cry, it reminds me of what I use to be, what I could have become, and how many friends I’ve lost along the way. Dance is brutual, forcing vulnerability and deep connection within a short period of time, I’m not sure how I to come back to it but I’m getting more inspired to. My roommate doesn’t make me feel comfortable eno to explore my creative side, but when me and bf live together, I hope I can feel more comfortable and start recording myself more often, the encouragement he brings is so ephemeral, I’m lucky to have him. But I know that at the least, if I came back to dance, I outdone be more interested in dance film, and being inside of that industry rather than concert dance, sinner the world is kind of moving into a digital world, definitely open to site specific work, given the right amount of viewers and support of course,

For my other dreams that are transforming, I know want to become marketing manager, and possibly a yoga teacher. I’ve gone back and forth with a yogic certificate, but I didn’t feel that I had enough practice, knowledge, or the right people to start with a subject like that. But fuck, I mean soooo many white people do it haha. I’m feeling more motivation for this certificate since I realized that I can make friends this way. I can find like minded people who practice, engage in processing, and are willing to go into platonic physical interactions, since I’m also realizing this is crucial for me in any platonic relationship. If this program started progressing, this could become a business that provides an income, I met awesome people, and I can a lot of ppl along the way. Downsides are of course if the business collapses, but I would gain knowledge in Hinduism which I’ve been wanting but unsure how to engage in.

What’s serendipitous though, is that the the timing of marketing could not be better, a program has a date right after my classes end, I can attend their classes, then continue my spring courses, and work a full time job and on my way to 6 figures. There’s so many resources and side that this transition feels right and meaningful, I’m feeling good about this change, I just hope I won’t want to change again 5 years from now.

Hinduism and Buddhism.... my practices and faith have been wavering, after Naropa, my experience with Buddhism is a bit tainted, maybe I need to go to retreat again and release any energy surrounding my mother, but other factors play a part. The prentiousness, the fake smiles, that school had a lot of problems, but none more so than racism pure and simple. This is why I love Virginia, racism over there is overt and blatant, I know who the racist is and I know where not to go. Here in boulder, everybody will smile at you, and you don’t know who is truly being racist, you have to really read behind the lines and analyze to understand the truth of what somebody is saying, I mean the school burned down on its own so I think my wishes are being granted... I don’t know where this leaves me with Buddhism, Charlotta was amazing, and I want to attend her classes, but something always holds me back and I don’t know what. In regards to Hinduism, my yoga sequence has pretty much been the only stabilizing thing in my life. Through all the obstacles and trauma, maintains these practices have really kept me balanced through whatever comes my way, although I have been slacking I some ways, I’ve also been progressing in chakras, balancing, and following a routine. Maybe in this way, Buddhism is something for me to contemplate, maybe Hinduism is what I want to talk about...there it is, Buddhism is my process and Hinduism is my faith. Shiva will always be my everything, in not sure why on that mountain, or even if I made a connection, but that trip to Japan truly changed me, and I want to follow a Shiva path that is right for me, I just wish I had someone to help guide me, but that might make things harder.

[fatrainbowmermaidunicorn]

PROMPT GAME #1

Totally unedited and I have to cut the storyline a little short, because well, its supposed to be a drabble. Ahahah ❤ and I decided to combine all promts you requested into one.

"Seriously Jeon? You have fucked everyone else and now you are finding girls in my home?" Y/N sighed and walked passed the shirtless male, grinnibg with his mouth full of cereal. Her cereal, in her house, using her bowl.

"Not my fault your roomate is hot," he winks, totally shameless about the fact that he and her so called roomate keep the whole house, specifically her, since shes the only other person in there anyway, awake all night, with their disgusting activities. Endless activities. "Cereal?"

Y/N rolled her eyes and grab the half eaten bowl and throw in the sink.

"No thanks, and thanks for offering, since that is my cereal in the first place. Now that you have disgraced this house, would you please get out so I can comfort my roomate when she realizes what an asshole you are and what a mistake she made?"

"Aww, come on Y/N why so grumpy? Someone not getting any?" Jungkook smirk, slipping on his shirt, thank god. He might be an asshole, but hes an asshole with a bod! And its hard to be snarky with his hard pecs staring back at her.

"Ive been getting plenty on my own, thanks," Y/N rolles her eyes again. "And I rather be dead than being with you in the same bed Jeon,"

"Oh come on Y/N, I know you wish I want you. Hey, maybe I do. Wanna gove it a try?" He winks, taunting her.

"Just get the fuck out Jeon," Y/N open the door and crossed her arms, waiting for Jungkook to walk himself out.

"Okay, okay, no need to be so hostile," he laughs and walks out. "See you babe. Just call me if you change your mind, I'll make time for you," he laughs before the door slammed at his back.

The rivalry between Y/N and Jungkook started so long ago that even Y/N cant remember how it even started or if its even relevant anymore. But what she knows is that she hates that fuckboy's guts. Walking around like he owbs the damn campus. Well, maybe it started whe Jungkook pull her braids at the playground when they were 5 or maybe it didnt. It doesnt matter anyway. What natters is that Y/N hates him.

Whole heartedly.

/////

"Ouch!" Y/N turns around as her hand hit a solid rock. A rock that makes a sound. Wait, what rock?

Theres an intruder in her bed!

Y/N freaks out and immediately sits up, a massive headache attacking her head like sharp needles before she takes in her surrounding.

This is not my room.

And I am definitely not alone.

Not just not alone... Y/N turns her head slowly and nervously to the side and screamed out when she sees Jungkook rubbing his head, evidence of being hit by her hand earlier, naked, only with a blanket covering his bottom half.

"What the hell are you doing here?!"

"Geez woman, stop shouting. Its like too early for this," Jungkook rubs his eyes and yawns, totally unbothered by the fact that they are in bed together and naked.

"Get out! What are you doing in my bed?! What did you do to me?" Y/n starts hitting him.

"Yah! Stop it!" Jungkook catches her hands and hold it tight. "First of all, this is my bed. So the question you should ask is, what are you doing in my bed?" Jungkook smirked. "And second, you dont remember?"

"Remember what? What did you do to me?! I couldnt have done this on my own free will! Never!"

"Oh sweetheart, think it long and hard and maybe you will remember," he grins and lays back on the headboard, totally relax.

Y//N scrunched her nose, trying to remember, and slowly everything came back to her.

"I cant believe I missed the dateline for my Math project!" Y/N wailed to her friend. "Im so stressed oit. Urghhh!"

"Then I have good news my friend. Theres a party happening tonight, and I heard its gonna be big. Everyone is invited,"

"Then I'm in!"

"Wow, you are really stressed out. Nerdy Y/N saying yes to a party without hesitation? Amazing,"

/////

"Wow, never seen you at a party before," Jungkook grins towards Y/N as he sits on the kitchen counter of the packed house, a bottle of beer in his hand. "This is usually my forte,"

"Pissed off Jeon. Why are you everywhere," Y/N slurred, losing balance and almost fell if Jungkook didnt catch her.

"And definitely never seen you this drunk before," Jungkook helped to steady her. "Actually, I have never ever seen you drink, at all. Are you alone? Who did you come with?" Jungkook looked around, concerned etched on his face. "Lets just sober you up a little then I'll send you home okay?"

Jungkook held her shoulders and bring her upstairs, to his room. Its such luck that the party is being held at his frat house. His room is off limits to everyone, but this is an emergencu. Hes not going to leave Y/N downstairs to be taken advantage by all the guys at the party. He knows the guys. He is one of them. But he will never let anything happen to Y/N.

Not Y/N.

"Just lie down here. Ill take some water for you okay?" Jungkook places her on his bed, covering her with a blanket.

"Nooo, dont go," Y/N pulls him, making him fall on her and giggles. "Wow, you are so handsome," she traces his face with her fingers.

"You are definitely drunk Y/N," he laughs, he hinself a little tipsy.

"No, I am not. Hey Jeon... Why do I hate you again?" Y/N stares into his eyes, not letting her grip on him go.

"I-I dont know.." Jungkook whispered. He knows its wrong. Y/N is definitely drunk, and he himself is intoxicated. And they hate each other, dont they? Atleast thats what Y/N been telling him, but Jungkook hasnt been hating her for the longest time already. Its actually quite the opposite.

"Jungkook?"

"Y/N?"

And as Y/N pulls his face, connecting their lips together, the rest of the night is history.

/////

"Fucking. Hell..."

"So I take it you remember?" Jungkook grins.

"I was drunk! You took advantage of me!" Y/N screamed making Jungkook laughed. So dramatic.

"Me?! You are the one who make the first move! You took advantage of me! Besides, its not so bad. I made you feel good," he winks. "We both kinda win here,"

"Urghhh, shut up!" Y/N quickly stands up and collect her clothes which is strewn all over the room, hastily putting it on, all the while mumbling like crazy. "Not a word of this to anyone! Oh God, I cant believe this happened! I an serious Jeon, no word to anyone!"

Jungkook laugh and made a swear sign with his hand.

"I swear. I wont tell anyone. Although are you sure? I know you want to gloat on how good I made you feel," he laughs more.

"Shut the fuck up! Urghhhh," she threw a pillow to his head, missing him by an inch, making him laugh more as Y/N scurried away.

"Thanks for the night!"

"Fuck off!" Y/N screamed out and slammed the door, leaving Jungkook still laughing on the bed, mumbling to himself, smiling.

You are such a pain in my ass, it actually hurts to fucking love you Y/N. If only you knew how I feel.

/////

Eversince that fateful morning, it seems like Jungkook is everywhere. She cant seems to shake him away. Grinning, waving, annoying her...

Y/N never told anyone about that night of course. She doesnt want to be knows as another one of Jungkook's girls, or his latest victim. Jungkook is someone she despise and thats the extend of their relationship. And she would like to keep it that way.

But fate of course have another plan and her science teacher partnered her up with Jungkook, as part of the mentor - protege program hes trying. A good student oartnered up woth a less performing on, in hopes it could help each other. Worse, after weeks ignoring him and asking him to do his own thing, the class is assigned with a project, something Y/N could never run from. And that is how she is in the library, sitting beside a grinning Jungkook.

"We are finishing this project as fast as we can and thats it,"

"Oh come on Y/N. Cant we atleast be friends?" Jungkook grins, teasing her. "Afterall, you have seen me nak-"

"Shut up!" Y/N quickly covers his mouth. "What are you trying to do? Telling everyone we hooked up? It was a drunken mistake okay!"

Jungkook laughs and mumble to himself. So cute.

"What?"

"Nothing. I didnt say anything," he smiles and shrugs.

"Look Jungkook, I'm serious okay? This marks are important to me. Lets just do thia properly and be serious about it. I will divide the work load so we can do it on our own time and we can meet uo eve-"

Y/N was cut off when his lips landed on her and he grins.

"What the hell did you just do?!" Y/M hissed, looking around to see if anybody noticed. "Didnt I tell you just now? You cant just go around kissing people! I mean, I know you are a manwhore but thats not how the rest of the human world works! Stop being a-"

Another kiss.

"Jeon Jungkook!"

"I only kissed you because you were talking too much," he smile, bunny teeth showing, chin olaces in the palm of his hand that is laced together, looking at her.

"I-uh..."

"See, it works. You are finally speechless," Jungkook smile got wider. "Lets get to work shall we?"

/////

The project did bring Jungkook and Y/N closer together. They can be now considered somewhat... friends?

"So.. do you still hate me?" Jungkook asks as they are having coffee together after submitting their final project.

"Well.. hate is a strong word Jeon," Y/N smile. "And I think I am getting used to you. But I still dont like you," she giggled.

"Well, I'll take that," Jungkook smile. "Uh.. hey.. do you want to go to the dance with me?" His voice laced with nervousness.

Y/N was surprised by his question. Is Jungkook asking her out?

"I-I mean, as friends? To celebrate our new friendship?"

"Whatt? Does the great Jeon Jungkook has no date for the dance?" She laughs.

"Hey, I spend all my time doing this project with you. I got your nerd aura all over me okay," Jungkook smile. "So will you?"

"Yeah," Y/N smiles. "Yeah, why not,"

/////

"Hey Minji, I have to meet up with my professor, kts a last minute thing. If Jungkook came can you tell him to wait? Please?" Y/N shouted to her roomate as she rushed to the door.

"Jungkook? Wait, you are going to the dance with Jungkook?" Minji raised an eyebrow.

"Y-yeah. He asked me. Wait, you are okay with that right? You said hes only a one night stand right?" Y/N stopped in her tracks.

"Of course. It was a mutual understanding. Im only surprised because I didnt know you two still hang out. And he never brings a date to a dance. And dont you hate him or something?" Minji questioned, hands crossed on her chest.

"Well, lets just say hes changed," Y/N smiles. "My phone is out of battery but I'll be back in a jiffy. Let Jungkook know ok? Thanks, love you!" Y/N waves off and went out.

Lets just see if Jungkook truly changed Y/N-ah. A fuckboy will forever be a fuckboy. And if you think a nerd like you can chabge him instead of someone like me, you are dead wrong. Minji smirks.

/////

"Oh hi Kookie, what are you doing here?" Minji gave him a sultry smile as she opened the door to see Jungkook looking dashing in a tuxedo, flowers in hand. He even get Y/N her favorite. How tentative. Minji rolled her eyes.

"Im here to pick up Y/N. For the dance?" Jungkook smile.

"Oh no," Minji puts a hand on her chest, brows furrowing in sadness. "I am sorry to hear that, but Y/N left,"

"Left? But I'm her date?"

"Kookie, I am so sorry. I dont know how to say this. But she was so happy she managed to tricked you. She said its some kind of revenge and that you are stupid to believe she would actually be friends let alone go to the dance with you?"

"W-what? N-no. Y/N couldnt... could she?" Jungkook's face pained as the clutch on the flowers loosen and drop to the floor.

"I am so sorry..." Minji carressed his face. "But hey.." he pulls him to the sofa and scoot closer. "I can make you feel better and forget about her,"

/////

Y/N almost ran home. Shes ao excited and she needs to get ready, to look good for Jungkook. She dont know why she have to, but she just wanted to. And shes late.

She happily pushed open her door, a wide smile on her face, which immediately dissapear once she is greeted with the image of Jungkook being balls deep inside her roommate, on the couch... in the middle of the fucking living room. He cant even find the decency to take ger to the room atleast? Knowing she lives here too?

"W-what?"

"Y/N?" Jungkook was shocked and immediately pull out, scouring for his boxers and slipped it on.

"What the hell?! You cant even wait for a few minutes without fucking anyone?!"

"You bailed! I thought you left. And what do you care? Arent I just some kind of revenge?" Jungkook smirked.

"What are you talking about?! Bail?!I was meeting my professor! I told Minji this. To tell you! And what revenge?!"

"Wait, what?" Realization suddenly hits him as he turns to face Minji who is smirking. "You lied? You bitch!"

"Hey, dont be mad at me. If you can just keep it in your pants this wont happen," she shrugs. "Y/N, I am just trying to show you that fuckboys will never change. Just one lie and hes already fucking someone else! How can you be wih him?"

"Shut the fuck up you lying manipularive bitch!" Jungkook yelled at her, trying to control his temper. But he knows Minji is not important right now. Y/N is. "Y/N listen to me, I can explain. Minji.. she said-"

"It doesnt matter Jungkook. Minji is right. Just one lie from her is all it needed for you to start sleeping with someone else?"

"Y/N, no. Its not like that. I was hurt. I was-"

"Save it Jeon," Jungkook stopped at the nickname. It felt so cold. He took a step forward, lurching for her arm but Y/N pull back immediately.

"Stop. Fucking. Touch. Me!" Y/N yelled. "Minji is right. Fuckboy never changed, get out Jeon,"

"Y/N-"

"Why should I care anyway right, we are just friends," Y/N angrily wipe her tears. "Maybe not even friends," she stormed off into the room, slamming the door, leaving Jungkook to pick up the pieces of broken heart.

/////

"Go away!"

"I am going to annoy you, follow you around until you talk to me. Until you forgive me. I dont care what it takes, or who knows how desperate I am!" Jungkook followed her around like a pupoy around campus for a whole three months now. Never once did he gives up. Y/N has finally had enough. The whole campus heard about how Jeon Jungkook, the campus player is now whipped and chasing some nerd. Y/N cant already tolerate the endless flowers, chocolates, gifts, texts and phonecalls that he sent everyday, but following her around, all day and all night? For three whole month? Its too much.

"Why wont you give up?! We were not even friends to begin with!"

"I am never giving you up. Ever!"

"Seriously. Why?! The fuck, why?!" Y/N has reached her limit, screaming in the middle of campus to the campus player, not caring to maintain her cool anymore.

"Fine, you wanna know so bad? Its because I fucking love you L/N Y/N! I have love you for so many years eventhough you hated me! And now that I have the chance to be in your life I am not gonna let some manipulating bitch ruined it for me! I want you and I am not gonna stop until I get you!" Jungkook's chest heaved from his confession. "Got your answer now?"

"N-no," Y/N shakes her head, eyes searching his. "It cant be. We hated each other!"

"I dont. I never did. I dont even know why you hate me? Ia it because I pulled your braids when we were 5?" Jungkook smiles. "That just means I like you Y/N. And I have never stopped since,"

"B-but all the girls you have been with? You are the campus player!"

"Its only to get you attention," he bunny grins. "I gor your attention when I slept with your roommate and I have stopped ever since Y/N. Please, believe me. I love you,"

"B-but-"

"Please Y/N," Jungkook kneeled down and hold her hands, in the middle of the busy campus. "I wont stop until you say yes. I will follow you. I will tell you everyday I love you. I will call you, text you, I wi-"

Y/N cuts him off by pulling him up, grinning, tears in her eyes.

"Serioualy Jeon, you are so annoying,just kiss me already," she grins, hands holding the back of his neck, making Jungkook smile with his bunny grin, love in his eyes.

"With pleaseure my love,"

[doomedandstoned]

Rage of Samedi Keep It Slow, Heavy, and Evil in New Video

~By Mel Lie~

I can say with certainty that these five German raging "Pfälzern devils" are even more on fire at the moment than usual...or in other words they are burning like hell and I’m absolutely with them!

The South German Voodoo-Barons RAGE Of SAMEDI have shouted out the news, that they will bring us to our knees with their new album 'Blood Ritual' (2020) on January 17th, released by Argonauta Records (pre-order here)

Rage of Samedi is based in Zweibrücken/Rhineland Palatinate, Germany, and originally founded in 2012 as a side-project, which relatively quickly turned out to be a main project. The band mates of this hellbent voodoo chamber, Lou Cifer (voice), Sam D. Durango (guitar/backing vox), DixieKing Boehme I (guitar), Nick "Scrios" Perkele (bass) and Ian O‘Field (drums) have underpinned their scene presence in the last year with impressive work and have thus acquired a cult fan base.

So whilst we pawed our hooves for almost three years, hungering for new stuff, Rage of Samedi stepped on the gas! They milled over a huge load of live stages, by supporting bands like Eyehategod, High Fighter, Mantar, Monolord, King Witch, Ten Ton Slug, raged down the Malta Doom Fest in 2017 as well the Freak Valley Festival in 2018 and used this time intensively honing on their musical authenticity.

This does not in any way mean that they wanted to reinvent themselves but they worked on topping off their typical monstrous and raw Rage of Samedi sound.

If you take a look at the new work 'Blood Ritual' (2020), you will unmistakably notice that they have succeeded in doing so damn well! Their sound, inspired but not imitated by the spirit of the ancient Doom Gods of the '70s and '80s, compared with a good deal of furious sludge, a stunning raging (core) voice and occasional strolling on musical side-paths of similar genres is and remains edgy and angular but nevertheless a finely well-rounded masterpiece.

By signing a worldwide deal as first German band on Argonauta Record’s growing roster, they hit another big goal on their path.

I caught these Barons of Samedi for an awesome voodoo-session on behalf of Doomed & Stoned and if you can spare some time, follow me in the interview and take a look behind the scenes of Rage of Samedi. Check it out as you take in the world premiere of the music video "I Spit Hate"!

An Interview With Rage of Samedi

Hey guys! I‘m thrilled as punch to meet up with you here! How do you feel, with the knowledge in the back of your mind that in a few days, your new baby will see the light of day? I reckon you're about to catch fire, don't you? (laughs)

Yeah! Nice to meet you, too. Thanks for giving us the chance for that interview. Indeed, we’re really burning to bring out that record!! It’s been a while since the last one and it’s cool that we have Gero and his Argonauta Records as a label in the background that gave us all the freedom and time to write Blood Ritual.

What is the background of your new album in connection with the overall progress of the band?

Sam: Blood Ritual is the first album where Nicolas and Thorsten were actively parted in the songwriting process. That’s a big development how the songs are sounding and the guitars are working together. We stayed on that point that we’d like to bring in all our influences in our writing process and Nicolas and Thorsten are a big step forward in the quality of the songs.

What distinguishes 'Blood Ritual' (2020) from your last album 'Children Of The Black Sun' (2016)? Are there differences, and if so, which ones and why?

Sam: We recorded the guitars on "Children Of The Black Sun" completely live together. For the new album we got back to tracking the stuff one after the other again, 'cuz the live recordings brought so many problems in the mixing process and we were already a bit under pressure with the release date for C.O.T.B.S. so we couldn’t start again. C.O.T.B.S. was a torture to mix and master. We all thought we have to be parted in the mixing process. And I think we threw the shit away for about ten times! (laughs).

Blood Ritual is completely produced and mixed by our bass player Nicolas Perrault. At the beginning it was hard to follow all his instructions, for example changing my complete guitar sound and all that stuff, but damn, listen to that record!! I’d never do it another way anymore. I mean, Nicolas took that stuff, closed the door, worked for two weeks around the clock and came to rehearsals with that awesome mix. The first time we all are 100% happy with it. BOOM!

The mastering we gave to Collin Jordan at Boiler Rooms, Chicago. He already worked with bands like ‪EyeHateGod‬ and Lord Dying, so he knew exactly what to do with our stuff.

Can you please tell us all you have in mind about the meaning of "I Spit Hate", the appetizer we got as an exclusive release, for our listeners?

Lou: "I Spit Hate" is ment as a "Nazi Scum, Fuck Off" song. We write a lot of social and political critical stuff and we’re always using drastic words, that’s how "I Spit Hate" came to be. Easy as that.

Which of you is responsible for the lyrics? And what are the main themes they deal with and what inspires you?

Lou: I’m the one who is writing all the lyrics. I’m something like an old punk rocker (laugs). Maybe the reason why we always criticize society. (Laughs) Most time the guys working on our songs, I’m with them at rehearsals and the writing process inspires me. Sometimes the other guys give me some inspiration with one or two lines of text or some poems or what else and I work the stuff out or fill them in in my own lyrics.

As most of the big bands in the scene we also can say that we're getting a lot of inspiration from authors like Lovecraft, King and all the others. So some of our lyrics don't have that biggest meaning, just are telling a fantastic story.

Please tell us the story of how you came together as a band.

Sam: We knew each other before the band, but just from seeing each other at some gigs and stuff. Then end 2011, I played a hometown show with my former band where I was on vocals and guitar. Lou and Ian opened up with their acoustic project Leaf&Booze that evening for us. Ian on guitar that evening. A few weeks later Lou and me talked about that I wanted to start a project where I just can play guitar and I asked him to go on the mic there. He told me that Ian is normally a drummer and he asked our former bass player Paul McKay to be with us. So we started. After a few rehearsals we knew this will be more than just that planned side project.

After the first album 'Sign' (2014), Dixie King came to the band as 2nd guitar player, ‚cuz with two guitars we had a lot more possibilities in writing riffs and working them out. Shortly after Paul left the band for some personal reasons. Nicolas said he could help us for some live shows. He already helps us for nearly five years.

When Dixie left in case of his job and all the stuff around we asked Thorsten who we all know for a lot of years before. We hoped he will join because he was everyones absolutely first choice and he did. At the moment it couldn’t be better!

I know, you guys have shared the stage with some awesome band mates, right?

We had the luck to share the stage with a lot of cool bands, also some of our biggest idols who inspired us for doing what we do. Coolest thing is that we became close friends to some of them, as there are Lord Vicar. When you can say that Kimi Kärki and Chritus Linderson played your EPRelease Party with you, can it get any better? They are some of the nicest people we have ever met on the road! Also the irish sludgers in Ten Ton Slug became best buddies. We love you guys!

For example, our third show ever we played with Karma To Burn, followed by shows with the almighty Crowbar, Dopethrone, Mammoth Mammoth, Toner Low, High Fighter, and King Witch we met when we played the Malta Doom Festival in 2017, and organized some shows with them in Germany after that.

To name some others: Sasquatch, Monolord, Eyehategod, Mantar, and so many many more. In '18 we played the legendary Freak Valley Music Festival here in Germany. A planned show with The Obsessed' had to be cancelled in case of WINOs visa problems for the EU, but we hope we can catch this up in the near future.

I am curious, is there a special band story? A special experience that you had together as a band? Maybe a funny story that you still laugh about today?

Ian: Oh my god! There are a lot!! (laughs). We’re on the road as much as we can and there are happening some weird and strange (drunken) stuff. One time Dixie was so fuckin’ drunk before the show, that he played just another gig. He was on stage with us, but just played different songs for the whole show! Further on just a few tags like running naked through London and pissing all over a $250,000 car. We should be ashamed!

Let's have a quick look at the choice of your band name! If I informed right, is Baron of Samedi a creature from the haitian voodoo cult, right? What inspired you to choose this name?

Ian: We liked to choose something that seems to be dark and creates a kind of mystery, but also something with a positive meaning. Baron Samedi was the perfect option for this. He is a so called LOA, which means he’s like a mate to the venerated Voodoo god and the protector of the dead.

You are impressive, hard-working guys and also very present for your fan community. How do you balance this with your daily life? So what do you do in your life if you are not Rage Of Samedi? Maybe the two of you would like to tell a little bit about their private life? - My name is... and my hobbies are... (laughs)

Sam: Yeah. It’s nearly a full time job if you wanna do it right. I’m doing most stuff around the managing and booking. But I wouldn’t do it if it wouldn’t be fun and the band and my dudes are worth every minute of it. Two of us are working in the social area. Ian is a computer scientist, but you could have guessed by yourself. Look how pale his skin is and how red his eyes are!! He always sits in darkened rooms and hates the sun! (laughs)

Nicolas: I’m what you call a full time musician and tattoo artist. Check out my ‚All That Jazz‘ Tattoo! Best in handpoked stuff! (smiles)

Lou: It's nice to have a tattoo artist in the band, and with Phil one in the roadcrew.

Nicolas: Beside Rage Of Samedi, I’m doing my solo stuff as kind of Singer/Songwriter, but I hate this as description. I’m more doom and experimental then what you await from a typical singer/songwriter.

Thorsten: My job is the most important!! I’m working at a very famous brewery!

What are the things that have carved out of you the person that you are?

Life and Booze!

Sam: Letting the fun beside, I can tell that my family and my band/music are the most important things in my life. My wife and my son are my greatest and biggest supporters and made me who I am today! I love you!

I really like your cover artwork! Who designed it and is there a special meaning to it?

Sam: The cover artwork is made by Xavier Gonzalez at ‚No Master Studio‘. It’s completely hand painted (outside and inlay). He just got some tags from us like Voodoo Cult, Blood Ritual as album title. Then we gave him free hand in doing it, and we were smashed when we saw it and it was clear that we take it 1:1. Drastically and in small words it shows todays change of society who is praying to their false idols and dying after an unnecessary life!

Lou: And we wanted naked butt cheeks and a penis on it (laughs) and a beheaded guy!

Sam: He said "penis"! You're going into Facebook-Jail for this, Lou!

Are there any other music projects you are involved in?

Nicolas: I‘m doing my solo stuff, also playing at A Million Tiny Suns (alternative metal) and 114 (German rap).

Lou: Ian and I still have Leaf&Booze as an acoustic project.

Thorsten: I‘m part of Ampersphere, an alternative rock band where I‘m also on guitar and I play bass guitar at Zoahr. This is a psychedelic rock band and I proudly can say that we made it to the Doom Charts last month with our 1st album 'Axis'

Thank you guys for this thrilling voodoo-session, it was a great pleasure to meet you here! Do you have any last words for our listeners that are burning on your soul and that you want to get rid of?

We’d like to thank you, Mel. Just a big shout out to ALL our supporters who are with us, all the bands we met on the road and became friends!!!! We appreciate that so much. Special shout out to our roadcrew and buddies Ducky and Phil. Without you we’re nothing! Metal, Love & Peace!

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[bardiisms]

𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆  𝐌𝐄  𝐀  𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆  𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄  𝐓𝐇𝐄  .  .  .  𝐮𝐡  ,  𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐃?  a  collection  of  songs  for  all  the  folks  who’ve  had  the  misfortune  of  meeting  elena  taliesin.    

i.  PRAY  ,  kodaline  /  for  her  parents   ii.  ALL  WILL  BE  WELL  ,  gabe  dixon  /  for  her  mentor   iii.  IT  WASN’T  EASY  TO  BE  HAPPY  FOR  YOU  ,  the  lumineers  /  for  her  ex   iv.  MONEY  POWER  GLORY  ,  lana  del  rey  /  for  her  patrons   v.  WOLVES  (  YOU  GOT  ME  )  ,  dreamers  /  for  her  mistake   vi.  WITH  ME  ALL  ALONG  ,  bronze  radio  return  /  for  her  friends  in  low  places   vii.  DON’T  TAKE  THE  MONEY  ,  bleachers  /  for  her  weakness   bonus  track.  MONEY  MONEY  MONEY  ,  abba  /  the  song  constantly  playing  in  elena’s  head   

peek  under  the  cut  for  a  more  in  depth  look  at  the  lyrics  and  wanted  connections  !!

i.  FOR  HER  PARENTS  /  how  many  nights  do  you  lie  dreaming?  i’m  counting  the  days  since  you  went  away.  when  i  lost  my  heart  ,  life  lost  all  meaning.  what  i  would  give  to  see  you  again  .  .  .  i’ll  pray  for  you.  do  you  pray  for  me? 

her  parents  are  cloaked  in  childhood  memories.  what  elena  knew  of  them  was  from  before  she  was  sent  to  train  for  her  kingdom  ,  and  that  information  comes  in  flashes.  her  father  was  a  hard  worker  ,  tending  to  his  land  religiously  ,  but  he  cared  more  for  his  flower  garden  than  his  vegetables.  when  his  roses  bloomed  ,  he  was  always  sure  to  cut  a  few  for  elena’s  mother.  she  would  blush  every  time  he  presented  the  flowers  to  her  ,  even  if  he  had  done  it  every  year  of  their  marriage.  her  mother  was  clever  and  intelligent  ,  a  scholar  to  her  core.  elena  remembers  her  mother’s  voice  whispering  fairytales  as  elena  drifted  to  sleep.  she  never  learned  how  a  farmer  and  a  scholar  married  ,  but  her  parents  did.  elena  clings  to  her  memories  in  which  her  parents  are  basked  in  light  because  the  family  she  returned  to  after  training  was  not  the  one  she  remembered.  they  sent  her  in  a  hurry  ,  thus  elena  never  met  them  for  who  they  were  and  she  fears  it  is  too  late  to  change  that.      

ii.  FOR  HER  MENTOR  /  the  winter’s  cold  ,  but  the  snow  still  lightly  settles  on  the  trees.  and  a  mess  is  still  a  moment  i  can  seize  until  i  know  that  all  will  be  well.  even  though  sometimes  this  is  hard  to  tell  ,  and  the  fine  is  just  as  frustrating  as  hell  ,  all  will  be  well.   

ever  present  in  her  life  ,  elena  has  known  them  since  she  was  a  child.  while  she  has  grown  and  endured  ,  they  were  there  ,  never  leaving  her  side.  she  feels  an  allegiance  to  them  that  very  few  people  earn  from  her.  they  rescued  her  from  acacia  ,  helping  her  flee  from  debt  collectors  and  build  a  life  in  aura.  they  pushed  her  to  study  music  ,  folk  tales  ,  and  history  —  even  teaching  her  when  she  made  the  decision  to  become  a  bard.  they  are  her  home  ,  the  last  piece  of  her  family  she  has  left.  and  they  keep  her  grounded  when  things  feel  like  they  are  falling  apart  at  the  seams.  (  open  )   

iii.  FOR  HER  EX  /  on  the  last  time  we  met  ,  your  love  was  there.  you  held  my  hand  ,  bit  your  tongue  ,  shut  me  out  ,  spilled  my  blood  all  around.  yeah  ,  it  wasn’t  easy  to  be  happy  for  you.  yeah  ,  i  took  the  poison  praying  you’d  feel  it  too.  you  held  your  punches  back  and  i  left  the  room.  yeah  ,  it  wasn’t  easy  to  be  happy  for  you.

maybe  a  part  of  it  was  real  ,  in  between  the  conspiratorial  smiles  and  absentminded  touches.  but  for  elena  ,  she  swore  up  and  down  she  was  just  playing  the  game.  her  patron  was  all  too  eager  to  fall  for  her  tricks.  they  offered  her  the  world  ,  how  was  she  to  say  no?  it  was  easy  for  her  to  pretend  ,  to  flirt  and  dote  on  one  of  her  first  benefactors.  lies  fell  from  elena’s  lips  and  neither  of  them  batted  an  eye  ,  allowing  her  to  weave  a  fantasy  ,  all  the  while  lining  her  pockets  with  the  other’s  wealth.  she  waited  until  another  opportunity  was  just  around  the  corner  and  then  she  disappeared.  elena  left  nothing  for  the  other  person  ,  except  for  a  vague  note.  she  hoped  it  would  be  enough.  alas  ,  it  seems  they  found  her  again  ,  bitterness  painting  their  memories  of  her  —  the  fantasy  has  unraveled  in  their  mind.  they  want  retribution  ,  to  pull  the  same  tricks  she  played  on  them  ,  to  hurt  her  like  she  hurt  them.  (  open  )     

iv.  FOR  HER  PATRONS  /  you  talk  lots  about  god.  freedom  comes  from  the  call.  but  that’s  not  what  this  bitch  wants  ,  not  what  i  want  at  all.  i  want  money  and  all  your  power  ,  all  your  glory.  hallelujah  ,  i  wanna  take  you  for  all  that  you  got.   

sweet  melodies  and  sweeter  words  have  begun  to  earn  elena  a  slew  of  high  class  patrons.  in  them  ,  she  sees  the  way  to  a  bright  future  where  she  has  saved  her  family  and  home  ,  all  while  dripping  in  beautiful  jewels.  they  are  the  key  to  the  power  and  wealth  she  is  all  too  desperate  to  call  her  own.  by  playing  the  game  right  ,  she  can  manipulate  them  to  twist  themselves  around  her  finger.  there  is  little  she  won’t  do  to  have  the  attention  of  the  most  powerful  and  wealthy.  (  more  are  always  welcome!  )       

v.  FOR  HER  MISTAKE  /  still  i  chase  you  down  ,  couldn’t  keep  away.  fever’s  coming  now.  i  want  the  high  again.  you  got  me  brainwashed  ,  you  got  me  so  lost  ,  you  got  me  fucked  up  like  you.

they  belong  in  the  past  ,  a  remnant  of  the  girl  who  died  to  be  reborn  as  the  siren.  when  she  thinks  of  them  she  remembers  a  loaf  of  bread  shared  between  the  two  of  them  ,  offering  up  secrets  without  realizing  how  dangerous  it  was  ,  and  a  hand  covering  her  own  —  anchoring  her.  then  something  better  came  along  ,  elena  was  offered  a  chance  she  could  not  say  no  to.  she  said  goodbye  to  her  first  love  ,  trading  them  in  for  riches  and  comfort.  she  thought  they  would  stay  in  their  own  worlds  ,  never  to  cross  paths  again.  elena  refused  to  imagine  a  world  where  she  could  have  them  next  to  her  in  her  new  life  that  she  forged  from  nothing.  but  then  ,  they  were  there  again  .  .  .  and  elena  couldn’t  stay  away.  since  reuniting  ,  she  has  said  over  and  over  again  they  can’t  pretend  they’re  teenagers  playing  at  romance.  still  ,  she  goes  back  to  them  without  fail.  elena  calls  it  a  mistake  and  pretends  she’s  not  going  to  do  it  again.  (  open  )     

vi.  FOR  HER  FRIENDS  IN  LOW  PLACES  /  we’ve  come  a  long  way  since  the  early  days.  always  had  a  spot  in  the  escapades  and  a  suitcase  for  the  getaways.  and  all  along  you  were  always  down.  showed  up  and  you  would  hang  around  ,  singing  loud  ,  standing  out  in  every  crowd  and  you’re  still  here  now. 

when  it  was  elena  and  her  mentor  against  the  world  ,  she  was  allowed  to  take  refuge  in  inns  and  taverns  ,  sometimes  trading  a  song  for  a  hot  plate.  those  and  many  other  instances  of  kindness  are  moments  she  will  never  forget.  she  guards  herself  against  vulnerability  ,  shying  away  from  real  relationships  with  patrons  and  other  performers  ,  but  those  who  opened  their  doors  to  her  earned  a  spot  in  elena’s  heart.  it  is  a  weakness  she  will  not  share  ,  but  what  she  shares  with  those  who  have  been  with  her  since  the  beginning  is  genuine.  she  softens  around  them  and  attempts  to  shield  them  from  the  harsh  realities  of  the  four  kingdoms.  (  always  looking  for  more  friends!  )       

vii.  FOR  HER  WEAKNESS  /  somebody  broke  me  once  ,  love  was  a  currency.  a  shimmering  balance  act  ,  i  think  i  laughed  at  that.  and  i  saw  your  face  and  hands  ,  colored  in  sun  and  then  .  .  .  i  think  i  understand.  will  i  understand?  

they  came  out  of  nowhere  ,  just  another  patron  who  elena  could  swindle  out  of  a  pretty  coin  and  walk  away  from.  until  .  .  .  they  weren’t  just  another  anything.  they  are  something  new  and  scary.  elena  feels  a  bitterness  towards  herself  for  the  way  she  acts  like  a  fool  around  them  ,  often  bumbling  and  speechless  —  two  things  she  is  unfamiliar  with.  the  symptoms  of  blossoming  feelings  confuse  her  ;  a  constricting  chest  ,  butterflies  fluttering  in  her  stomach  ,  pouring  over  the  exchanges  between  them  late  into  the  night  —  it  is  almost  too  much  ,  still  ,  elena  refuses  to  leave  them.  she  continues  to  offer  her  services  ,  performing  at  their  parties  and  events  all  to  be  close  to  them  .  .  .  ridiculous.  what  hurts  the  most  is  elena’s  quiet  fear  that  they  are  doing  to  her  what  she  does  to  everyone  else.  (  open  )        

[badwolf-in-the-impala]

~Whiskey Lullaby~

~Chapter 10~

Image Credit: Me. Pictures not mine obviously, but the collage is.

Rating: Mature/18+

Warnings: Alcohol and drug abuse, violence, suggested sexual/physical abuse, kidnapping, sexual content, angst.

Chapter Warnings: Angst, emotions....feelz. Nothing to major in this chapter.

A/N: Huge shout out to @jacksonroth for constantly kicking me in the ass to keep working on this story and lending a hand when I need a little extra help. You’re the best, Babe! Also, sorry it’s been a while since I’ve posted! More updates to come soon though!

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

“Hey! Whoa, whoa.” Gemma stopped Tawni as she stormed back into the lobby, tears streaming down her face. Gemma raised an eyebrow at her. “What’s goin’ on?”

“Nothin’, Gem.” Tawni lied, pushing Gemma’s hands away. Gemma was prepared to let it go, seeing as she was faced with her Uncle’s life in the balance; that is, until she saw Teagan walk back inside, a wicked bruise blossoming on her cheek.

“Nothin’, my ass, Telford.” Gemma stated firmly, hooking a hand around Tawni’s arm and pulling her back to stand in front of her as she stopped Teagan. “Now, what the fuck is goin’ on with you two?”

She looked between the two girls, though neither of them spoke up nor even looked at each other.

“You two had better start talkin’.” Gemma said, crossing her arms and popping a hip out to one side.

“I’ve nothing to say to her.” Tawni said, breezing past Gemma, who was left to hold Teagan back as she screamed after her, “Yeah?! Well, same to you, bitch!”

“Hey!” Gemma called over her, gripping her arm tight and pulling her down the hallway into an empty room. “I wanna know what exactly is going on with you two, and I want to know now. What changed, that you two went from being best friends to now hatin’ each other?”

“It’s nothing, Gem. We used to fight back in the day too.” Teagan said.

“Bullshit, not like this. You’ve never called her a bitch and meant it. That’s a term of endearment to us, hunny.” Gemma shot back. “I’m not going to ask you again, Teagan. Tell me what’s going on.”

“Gemma, nothing is going on!

“Yeah? And you’re a shit liar, Teagan.” Gemma said sternly as she pointed at a chair. “Sit.”

Teagan did so begrudgingly, letting out a sigh as she reached up to prod gently at her left cheek; wincing. Gemma rolled her eyes and yanked open on of the cabinets, pulling out an ice pack and breaking the middle bit before pressing it forcefully to Teagan’s cheek. Leaning back against the counter behind her, Gemma crossed her arms over her chest and waited impatiently for an explanation. Teagan finally fessing up when she realized Gemma wasn’t going anywhere.

“Tawni apparently witnessed my freakout...she thinks I’m sleeping with Chibs.” Teagan murmured softly, her gaze fixed to the floor and her brows furrowed tightly. Gemma leaned forward, opening her mouth as she was about to speak but paused, giving Teagan a confused look.

“Wait...you’re not sleeping together?” She questioned, watching in stunned silence as Teagan shook her head ‘no’. “You tell her that?” Gemma added, referring to Tawni as she nodded her head towards the closed door beside her.

“Yeah. Guessing she didn’t buy it.” Teagan replied sarcastically as she gestured to the rapidly darkening bruise on her cheek.

“Well, give her some time to cool off. I’ll talk to her..” Gemma sighed as she reached for the door. “But in the meantime, let’s go find Tara...make sure little miss ‘Mayweather’ out there didn’t do anymore damage to that head of yours.”

~

“Jesus, how hard did she hit you?” Tara questioned as she examined Teagan’s cheek closely before pulling the pen light from her pocket and performing the same tests she had done earlier, returning it to her pocket once she was satisfied, and retrieved a fresh ice pack.

“Hard enough that I’m pretty positive whatever was left of my soul got ejected from my body.” Teagan sneered as Tara pressed the ice pack back to her cheek, carefully.

“Yeah, well, you can worry about finding that later.” Gemma stated as she gestured to Jax who was approaching them from down the hall. “Looks like we got more important matters at the moment.”

“Hey, Doctor said they just wheeled Chibs out of recovery and into a room finally--” Jax paused as he looked down at Teagan, noting the visible bruise that peaked out from behind the ice pack. “The hell happened to you?” 

“Tawni’s fist.” Both Gemma and Tara replied in unison as the three of them stared down at Teagan, causing her to sink lower into her chair, silently wishing she was invisible right about now.

“Oh.” Jax replied casually, not seeming surprised in the least. “She figure out you’re bangin’ her Uncle?”

“We’re not sleeping together! Jesus Christ, what it is with you people?!” Teagan snapped as she got to her feet and stormed off down the hall, Tara chasing her down. Jax flinched as Gemma’s hand connected with the back of his head. Hard.

“The hell did I do?!”

“Not really a good time.” Gemma huffed before taking off down the hall herself. Jax sighed and shook his head as he caught the familiar glimpse of salt and peppered curly hair step out of the elevator.

“Oh, shit.” Jax muttered before taking off after his mother.

~

Tawni sat by Chibs’ bed as he still remained unconscious, a bandage wrapped around his head. She wiped the tears from her eyes as she sat in silence, her lips lifting in a small smile as she inhaled the scent that clung to the hoodie she was wearing. When the door opened, Tawni sighed and turned, ready to tell off Gemma, but stopped at stared at the curly haired woman that walked in.

“Fi.” Tawni breathed. It took her a minute for the flashbacks and memories from her early childhood in Ireland to fade before she hopped to her feet and glanced around out the door before she shut it once more and locked it. “Fi, what are you doing here? Jimmy-”

“Jimmy doesn’ know I’m here. Not yet at least.” Fiona said, going to Tawni and cupping her face. She gave a small smile and added, “Ye look more and more like y’er Ma every time I see you.”

Tawni smiled and gave a soft giggle. “Everyone here says I’m all Chibs’. They’re sure the whole niece thing is a cover up.” She said. Fiona chuckled and kissed her cheek.

“Ah. Well. Y’er Ma was his sister after all.” Both women let out a chuckle as they took their seats. “How is he?”

“Stable, they said.” Tawni replied with a sigh. She chewed her lip as her anxiety spiked with the thought of Teagan possibly making her way over and they’d both be stuck in a rather awkward situation. Before Fiona could say anything else, Tawni made her decision and stood. “Um, I’ll give you a minute. Uh, Tara Knowles is one of the doctors here. She’s Jax’s old lady. She might be in to check up on him.”

“Alrigh’, love. Thanks.” Fiona said with a smile, scooting a little closer to the bed and taking his hand. Tawni left quickly and rounded the corner a little too fast when she ran into Gemma.

“Jesus!” Tawni jumped and sighed, rubbing her fingers over her forehead. “Gemma, you need a goddamn bell around your neck.”

“Yeah? And you need some boxing gloves, apparently.” Gemma said, giving her a look. Tawni’s face dropped and she narrowed her eyes at Gemma.

“It’s an internal matter. I can handle it.” Tawni said, almost mimicking the lines she’d heard for years when she moved to Charming. Tawni started down the hall, moving past Gemma, but Gemma wasn’t having any of it.

“Oh, yeah. You’re handling it real well. Did you even see the size of the bruise you left on Teagan’s face?” Gemma asked, matching Tawni’s quick pace as they maneuvered through the halls.

“She’ll be fine...The bitch…” Tawni muttered. Gemma closed her eyes and sighed, muttering to herself about having to deal with this a second time, then grabbed Tawni’s arm, hauling her into the chapel that was, thankfully, empty.

“Alright. I’ve had just about enough of this bullshit, Tawn.” Gemma said. Tawni stared at the cross above the altar and had a split second desire to punch out Gemma as well, but she decided against it and turned her back on the cross, crossing her arms as she faced Mama Gemma. “They aren’t sleeping together, Tawni.”

Tawni snorted and rolled her eyes. “Oh, fer fuck’s sake...Gemma, if ye’re goin’ ta stick up for tha’ harlot, I don’ wanna hear it!” Tawni shouted, her accent slipping out along with her anger. “ ‘N I’m surprised y’er keepin’ up with her lies!”

“They aren’t lies, sweetheart. And I’m the last person who would lie to you, you know that.” Gemma said, a little offended at the insinuation. Tawni glowered at her for a moment before turning away from her.

“If ye heard it from Teagan, they’re lies. I saw how she flipped out an’ punched Tig when-” Tawni cleared her throat and blinked a few times before she continued, “When the van blew up. She wouldn’ be tha’ upset if she wasn’ involved with him.”

Gemma sighed and slowly stepped closer to her, the hollow sound of her heels filling the silence. She took Tawni’s shoulders and turned her around.

“Tawn. I thought the same thing. But she didn't seem like she was lying.” Gemma said in a soft voice, trying to calm the wild Irish girl down. She gave a small chuckle and said, “Not as if she could lie, with the concussion and having been punched by her best friend.”

“Well...she deserved it.” Tawni said, pulling away from Gemma’s grasp. “If they aren’t sleepin’ together, there’s somethin’ goin’ on. I know Teagan. She wouldn’ get involved with a member again.”

Gemma shook her head, not entirely ready to start down that path with her, at least not right now.

 “Tawni, let me find Jax or someone to take you home, okay? I’ll call you if we hear anything more about Chibs.” She said. Tawni didn't want to leave her uncle, but with Fiona here with Teagan, that was trouble enough. There was no telling whether or not Jimmy really didn't know if she was here or not, and that was the one thing Chibs made her promise when they moved; Stay away from Jimmy O’Phelan.

“Juice brought me. I think he’s still here. I can catch a ride home with him.” Tawni said, letting the barest tone of defeat into her voice; accent falling away. Gemma smiled and pulled her into a brief hug and kissed her cheek.

“Go on, baby. I’ll check in on you later.” Gemma said. Tawni nodded and sighed, turning to the crucifix and marking herself with the cross before she walked out. Gemma shook her head, staring up at the cross and said, “We’re about to have the Boondock trilogy in this bitch.”

Gemma stared at the cross for a moment longer before going to the altar and lighting two of the candles before walking out.

~

Teagan had found an empty waiting room on the next floor and curled up in one of the chairs, waving off any nurse or doctor who tried to ask if she was okay. She didn't even realize she had fallen asleep, until a rough shake of her shoulder woke her. Teagan groaned and shoved the hand away, opening her eyes to tell off the umpteenth nurse/doctor, when she saw it was Tig. She was still just as pissed and irritated, but she didn't have the strength to fight with him this time.

“Leave me alone, Alex.” Teagan hissed. Tig simply rolled his eyes; Teagan only ever used his real name when she was mad at him and his full name when she was absolutely irate.

“I heard about what happened with you and Tawn. I can’t make sure my baby sister is okay?” Tig asked, sitting down in the chair next to her.

“I’m not a baby, Tig. So fuck off.” Teagan snapped. “Besides, since when did you decide to actually start acting like my brother, instead of my fucking parole officer?”

“Look, Teage, I know I haven’t exactly been the most supportive of your decisions recently...” Tig stated. “And I most definitely haven’t been the best brother since you got back into town.”

“No fucking shit.” Teagan muttered, rolling her eyes before scrubbing a hand over her face, wincing as it connected with the bruise on her cheek.

“I’m tryin’ to apologize here, Rave.” Tig frowned as he watched his sister closely. “And you know well as I do, that’s not something I do.”

“I know.” Teagan sighed softly, her gaze fixed on her hands as she fidgeted with the ring on her middle right finger. “You don’t have too, Tig...really. I get it.” She sighed. “I haven’t exactly spent my time making good life choices.”

“While I’m not goin’ to disagree with you…” Tig trailed off for a moment. “Not all your choices have been terrible lately...well, one of them at least.” He smirked a little, chuckling, as Teagan rolled her eyes at him dramatically.

“You’re an adult, Teagan. I can’t exactly tell you what you can and can’t do anymore...not that you ever listened to me anyway. But, after today...after the explosion.” Tig shook his head at the memory. “Look, what I’m tryin’ to say is after what happened, I know you’re not just fuckin’ around with this whole ‘Chibs’ situation.” Tig sighed. “And if being with him makes you happy, or a better person, or whatever in the hell relationships are supposed to do; then I’ll try and back off...maybe even be a little more supportive.”

“Jesus Christ, how hard did I fucking punch you?” Teagan snorted in disbelief as she waited for him to start laughing or admit he was just fucking with her; but he simply stayed silent. Blue eyes fixed to hers patiently as he waited for some kind of response.

“Teage?” Tig questioned carefully after about a solid minute of silence between them had passed. Not entirely sure how to react as he watched his little sister dissolve into tears, burying her face in her hands as she let out a quiet sob. 

“Shit…” He muttered under his breath as he stood, kneeling in front of Teagan as he pulled her into a tight hug. Tig sat there with her for a while, letting his little sister cry. He hadn’t seen her like this since they were kids and he was ready to do anything to help her this time. Finally, Teagan pulled away from him, sniffling, as she wiped her face.

“I-I think I’m gonna go check on Chibs.” She said, clearing her throat. “I haven’t seen him yet...I want to make sure he’s okay.”

“Yeah, babe. Don’t worry.” Tig said, helping her stand. “But we should make sure Rocky Jr. isn’t around. No need to go TKO over him.” Teagan rolled her eyes, but let the comment go. She nodded and Tig walked with her as they went to the elevator to find Chibs’ room.

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