#especially with them expanding his capture from two nights to a week | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

higherlearningtvshow · 21 days ago

Text

Early Voting in all 50 Wards of Chicago begins Today, October 21 at 9:00am.

Courtesy of

La Shawn K. Ford, IL State Representative

False Election Narratives

Breaking Down Definitions and

The ABC 7 News Reports

October 2, 2024

CHICAGO (WLS) -- Early voting is expanding across the Chicago area just two weeks away from Election Day.

Starting Monday, Chicago residents can now go to any early voting site in the city across all 50 wards to cast their ballot.Click Here to Read More

Early voting expands in Illinois

Click Image Below to Find Early Voting Locations and Times

in Chicago

Misinformation in Elections

In the context of elections, understanding misinformation is crucial for ensuring informed voter participation. This segment will explore the definitions of key terms, such as misinformation, disinformation, and malinformation, highlighting their distinct characteristics and implications. We will delve into the mechanisms through which misinformation spreads, including the influence of social media algorithms, the creation of echo chambers, and the role of traditional media outlets. By unpacking these concepts, voters will be better equipped to recognize the challenges posed by misinformation and its potential impact on the electoral process.

Misinformation, the media, and the role you're playing in both

The American Psychological Association Reports

Misinformation and disinformation

Misinformation is false or inaccurate information—getting the facts wrong. Disinformation is false information which is deliberately intended to mislead—intentionally misstating the facts.

The spread of misinformation and disinformation has affected our ability to improve public health, address climate change, maintain a stable democracy, and more. By providing valuable insight into how and why we are likely to believe misinformation and disinformation, psychological science can inform how we protect ourselves against its ill effects.Click Here to Read More

Brennan Center for Justice Reports

Election deniers are working to undermine confidence in our elections and suppress turnout, particularly among voters of color and other historically marginalized communities. The misinformation they propagate — including lies about the voting process and election workers — can have significant consequences for people’s ability to vote and trust in our elections.

These threats are especially perilous today. Since 2020, prominent politicians and candidates for election administration positions have amplified the Big Lie of a “stolen” presidential election. These falsehoods spread rapidly on social media, with platforms unwilling or unable to intervene, fueling threats to election systems.Click Here to Read More

The Brennan Center Reports

February 20, 2024

Multiple Threats Converge to Heighten Disinformation Risks to 2024 Elections

In early December 2020, Ruby Freeman received an email: “We are coming for you and your family. Ms. Ruby, the safest place for you right now is in prison. Or you will swing from trees.”

Freeman had been a temporary poll worker in Fulton County, Georgia, in the 2020 election. Her daughter, Shaye Moss, was with her at the State Farm Arena in Atlanta, counting ballots as a county employee on the night of the election. Footage of the pair engaging in routine vote-counting procedures went viral after Rudy Giuliani and his legal team began to falsely claim it showed them conducting election fraud. As the lies about what happened that night in Atlanta spread on social media, Freeman and Moss were thrown into a firestorm. Racist, violent language arrived via letters, texts, phone calls, emails, social media messages, and even in person at each of their front doors.Click Here to Read More

Media and Democracy: Finding Facts in the Mess of Misinformation | Lisa Remillard | TEDxBillings

Understanding Misinformation

Social media algorithms play a crucial role in amplifying false narratives by prioritizing sensational content that captures user engagement. These algorithms often lead to the creation of echo chambers, where users are exposed predominantly to viewpoints that align with their own beliefs, reinforcing misinformation. Additionally, traditional media outlets contribute to this issue by occasionally spreading unverified information or sensationalized stories, further blurring the lines between fact and fiction. Together, these mechanisms foster an environment where misinformation can thrive and influence public perception.

Northeastern Library Reports

October 2, 2024

Fake News/Misinformation/Disinformation: What is Fake News?

The term "fake news" has been used increasingly in the last several years, but does not always refer to the same thing. Because false information can come in many shapes and forms, the term "fake news" can conjure up very different thoughts depending on the person using/hearing it and their own personal experiences. For the purposes of this guide we can define "fake news" as “purposefully crafted, sensational, emotionally charged, misleading or totally fabricated information that mimics the form of mainstream news” (Zimdars & McLeod, 2020). Click Here to Read More

The American Psychological Association Reports

November 29, 2023

How and Why Does Misinformation Spread?

According to behavioral models, exposure to misinformation increases the odds that people will believe it, which in turn increases the odds that they will spread it. At the same time, people do not necessarily need to believe misinformation in order to spread it; people may share information they know is false to signal their political affiliation, disparage perceived opponents, or accrue social rewards. Psychological factors contribute significantly to this process: People are more likely to share misinformation when it aligns with personal identity or social norms, when it is novel, and when it elicits

strong emotions.Click Here to Read More

University of Victoria Reports

May 31, 2024

Advancing technology and growth in social media use contribute to the spread of fake news. In fact, research shows that false news often spreads faster than real news online. Regular users of social media are to blame for a lot of this spread, as they like, share, and otherwise engage with posts containing misinformation. See below for more on why we fall for fake news.

Online fake news can also be spread through bots. Ferrara et al.’s (2016) look at social bots describes a bot as “a computer algorithm that automatically produces content and interacts with humans on social media, trying to emulate and possibly alter their behavior.”Click Here to Read More

Media Literacy: What is misinformation

The Public Interests Research

Groups Reports

November 22, 2023

How misinformation on social media has

changed news

When a tourist submersible lost contact during a dive to view the wreckage of the Titanic last month, the international rescue operation caught the attention of millions around the world. The rescue failed, and on June 25th, a video on TikTok broadcasted the screams of the passengers in their final moments. In just 10 days, the video had 4.9 million viewers who heard the five

victims’ last cries.Click Here to Read More

Key Examples of Misinformation in Elections

This section delves into notable instances of misinformation in elections, providing a comprehensive analysis of its impact and consequences. By exploring significant examples, the discussion highlights the implications of such misinformation for democracy and electoral integrity. Key cases will be examined to draw lessons learned and best practices for future elections, while also investigating the role of media and technology in shaping public perception. Through this examination, the section aims to illuminate the critical need for vigilance and informed engagement in the electoral process.

The Power of Deception

The 2016 U.S. Presidential Election was significantly impacted by various misinformation campaigns that influenced public opinion and voter behavior. False narratives, such as misleading claims about candidate endorsements and fabricated stories about criminal records, proliferated across social media platforms, creating confusion and mistrust among voters. Additionally, Russian interference efforts, which utilized bots and targeted advertisements, exacerbated political divisions and spread misleading information. These tactics not only shaped public perception but also raised concerns about the integrity of the electoral process, ultimately playing a crucial role in the election's outcome.

How fake news impacted the 2016 election

The American Economic Association Reports

American democracy has been repeatedly buffeted by changes in media technology. In the 19th century, cheap newsprint and improved presses allowed partisan newspapers to expand their reach dramatically. Many have argued that the effectiveness of the press as a check on power was significantly compromised as a result (for example, Kaplan 2002). In the 20th century, as radio and then television became dominant, observers worried that these new platforms would reduce substantive policy debates to sound bites, privilege charismatic or “telegenic” candidates over those who might have more ability to lead but are less polished, and concentrate power in the hands of a few large corporations (Lang and Lang 2002; Bagdikian 1983).

In the early 2000s, the growth of online news prompted a new set of concerns, among them that excess diversity of viewpoints would make it easier for like-minded citizens to form “echo chambers” or “filter bubbles” where they would be insulated from contrary perspectives (Sunstein 2001a, b, 2007; Pariser 2011). Most recently, the focus of concern has shifted to social media. Social media platforms such as Facebook have a dramatically different structure than previous media technologies. Content can be relayed among users with no significant third party filtering, fact-checking, or editorial judgment. An individual user with no track record or reputation can in some cases reach as many readers as Fox News, CNN, or the New York Times. Click Here to Read More

Louisiana State University Reports

March 3, 2022

How Fake News Affected the 2016 Presidential Election

Of the known fake news stories that appeared in the three months before the election, those favoring Trump were shared a total of 30 million times on Facebook, while those favoring Clinton were shared 8 million times.

Just over half of average American adults who recall seeing fake news say they believed the stories

People are much more likely to believe stories that favor their preferred candidate, especially if they are ideologically segregated within social media networks

Social media was an important but not a dominant source of election news-- only 14% of Americans said social media was their “most important source”

In a 2015 Stanford University study of fake news articles and “civic online reasoning,” researchers found that over 30 percent of high school students said a fake Facebook account posting comments about then-candidate Trump were more reliable because of its graphic elements.

Only 25 percent recognized the significance of the blue checkmark on Twitter and Facebook that indicates an account is legitimate. More than 80 percent of the respondents were not able to recognize that an ad was sponsored content, or native advertising, and not a news story.

Native advertising is a type of advertising that matches the form and function of the platform on which it appears.

Click Here to Read More

Pew Research Center Reports

December 15, 2016

Many Americans Believe Fake News Is

Sowing Confusion

According to a new survey by Pew Research Center, most Americans suspect that made-up news is having an impact. About two-in-three U.S. adults (64%) say fabricated news stories cause a great deal of confusion about the basic facts of current issues and events. This sense is shared widely across incomes, education levels, partisan affiliations and most other demographic characteristics. These results come from a survey of 1,002 U.S. adults conducted from Dec. 1 to 4, 2016Click Here to Read More

NBC News Reports

November 7, 2016

'Fake news' went viral in 2016. This expert studied who clicked

It’s one of the defining phrases to emerge the 2016 election. But before “fake news” became President Donald Trump’s favorite media-bashing epithet, the term referred to fake political news spread by dubious partisan sites for profit.

In the months leading up to the presidential election, news sites and Facebook pages attracted attention for producing wholly fictitious articles like “Pope Francis Shocks World, Endorses Donald Trump For President” that preyed on readers’ biases. In Macedonia, enterprising teenagers built a cottage industry of fake news sites that concocted phony scoops about President Obama and Hillary Clinton and then collected the ad revenue when they went viral among Trump supporters.Click Here to Read More

Fake news' impact on politics

Fake news wasn’t the biggest media

problem of 2016

The Hidden Dangers

Misinformation in elections poses serious threats to democratic processes by eroding voter trust and influencing election outcomes. False claims and misleading narratives spread through social media and other platforms create confusion, leading many voters to question the integrity of electoral systems. This undermines confidence in democratic institutions and can result in lower voter turnout. Additionally, misinformation can shape voter behavior, sway undecided voters, and even suppress participation, ultimately distorting election results and undermining fair representation in democracy.

You're being manipulated and don't even know it | Nate Pressner

The Brookings Institution Reports

Misinformation is eroding the public’s confidence in democracy

Democracy in the United States is in serious trouble. A review of some recent public opinion research shows just how much.

For example, an NPR survey conducted earlier this year found that 64% of the American population believes that U.S. democracy is in crisis and is at risk of failing. A strong indication that the situation is getting worse and not better is that over 70% of respondents in that poll said that democracy is more at risk of failure now than it was a year ago.Click Here to Read More

Harvard Kennedy School Reports

June 2, 2020

Misinformation in action: Fake news exposure is linked to lower trust in media, higher trust in government when your side is in power

We collected data from U.S. respondents (N=3000) who participated in two survey waves conducted a month apart from each other. The surveys were sent out in late October and late November of 2018, shortly before and shortly after the U.S. midterm elections.

Participants were also asked to install a browser extension tracking their online behavior during the time period between the surveys. About 8% (N=227) of the respondents agreed.

The browsing history of participating respondents was used to evaluate their exposure to fake news sources and assess whether consuming misinformation was linked to changes in trust.

We found that fake news exposure was associated with a decline in mainstream media trust among respondents.

Our results also showed that fake news exposure was associated with an overall increase in political trust, and especially trust in congress and the justice system.

Upon examining that relationship more closely, we found that fake news consumption was linked to lower political trust, but only for strong liberals. For moderates and conservatives, fake news consumption predicted higher trust in political institutions.

Our findings confirm that the consequences of fake news cannot be examined in isolation. To effectively anticipate the implications of misinformation spread, research needs to consider the current media and political environment.

Click Here to Read More

The Oxford Academic Reports

July 22, 2024

Electoral misinformation, where citizens believe false or misleading claims about the electoral process and electoral institutions—sometimes actively and strategically spread by political actors—is a challenge to public confidence in elections specifically and democracy more broadly. In this article, we analyze a combination of 42 million clicks in links and apps from behavioral tracking data of 2,200 internet users and a four-wave panel survey to investigate how different kinds of online news and media use relate to beliefs in electoral misinformation during a contentious political period—the 2022 Brazilian presidential elections. We find that, controlling for other factors, using news from legacy news media is associated with belief in fewer claims of electoral misinformation over time. We find null or inconsistent effects for using digital-born news media and various digital platforms, including Facebook and WhatsApp. Furthermore, we find that trust in news plays a significant role as a moderator. Belief in electoral misinformation, in turn, undermines trust in news. Overall, our findings document the important role of the news media as an institution in curbing electoral misinformation, even as they also underline the precarity of trust in news during contentious political periods.

Click Here to Read More

University of Central Florida Reports

October 26, 2020

The term “fake news” has become so ubiquitous in our society that it’s even become a punchline. But the threat is very real — with real consequences — which is why UCF Associate Lecturer of Psychology Chrysalis Wright dedicates her days to studying it.

Wright is an expert on fake news and online disinformation who serves as the founding director of UCF’s Media and Migration Lab, which identifies and develops methods for fighting fake news. She was recently appointed to the board of directors for the United Nation’s Communications Coordination Committee, which aims to improve communications across cultures globally.Click Here to Read More

New America Reports

March 2, 2024

The Problem of Misinformation in a Democracy

Misinformation—defined here as deliberately shared wrong information (e.g., fake news), which is distinct from simple misperceptions (e.g., genuine mistakes)—poses a number of dangers to a democratic society. Democracy thrives on the active and honest participation of citizens and misinformation threatens its success by obfuscating or discouraging the best course of action for voters and distorting perceptions of political opponents.Click Here to Read More

Empowering Voters

Think Before You Click: How to fact check articles you find online

The University of California Reports

Real News/Fake News: Fact Checkers

Politifact

Pulitzer Prize winning site run by editors and reporters from the Tampa Bay Times (Florida) newspaper. "PolitiFact is a fact-checking website that rates the accuracy of claims by elected officials and others who speak up in American politics.... The PolitiFact state sites are run by news organizations that have partnered with the Times." Read about their principles under 'About Us.'

FactCheck.org

"FactCheck.org is a project of the Annenberg Public Policy Center of the University of Pennsylvania....a nonpartisan, nonprofit “consumer advocate” for voters that aims to reduce the level of deception and confusion in U.S. politics. We monitor the factual accuracy of what is said by major U.S. political players in the form of TV ads, debates, speeches, interviews and news releases."Click Here to Read More

League of Women Voters Reports

Reliable Sources for Fact Checking

Media Bias Fact Check (MBFC) is a fact-checking page, which relies strictly on signatories of the International Fact Checking Network (IFCN) when evaluating the political/factual bias of 3,100+ media sources (left, center-left, least biased, center-right, right, pro-science, conspiracy and pseudo-science, questionable sources, and satire). It includes the methodology used to classify each source. Sources rated very high or high on factual reporting have proper sourcing and a clean fact check record. Here's their 2024 Least Biased List of the best fact-checking websites, including all the ones below.

AP Fact Check Daily Mining Gazette has been printing. Associated Press is currently at the border of least-biased and left-biased but very high on factual accuracy. IFCN Signatory.

OpenSecrets.Org is the Center for Responsive Politics' nonpartisan guide to money's influence on U.S. elections and public policy. MBFC rates it as dead-center least biased and very high on factual reporting, noting that it is a source for fact checkers.

Lead Stories tracks story trends and debunk fake news before it becomes viral. They are often the first to debunk outrageous claims with "hoax alerts." Their clever tag line is "Just Because It's Trending Doesn't Mean It's True—Fact checking at the speed of likes since 2015." MBFC rates it as dead-center least biased and very high on factual reporting. IFCN signatory.Click Here to Read More

The University of Central Oklahoma Reports

October 2, 2024

Cybersecurity and Infrastructure Security Agency (CISA)

Five products in the National Cyber Awareness System offer a variety of information for users with varied technical expertise. Those with more technical interest can read the Alerts, Analysis Reports, Current Activity, or Bulletins. Users looking for more general-interest pieces can read the Tips.

Snopes

Use Snopes for lots of factchecking: Fake News, social media stories, and rumors. Snopes’ fact-checking and original, investigative reporting lights the way to evidence-based and contextualized analysis.Click Here to Read More

Call to Action

Reporting misinformation is a critical step in combating its spread, especially during election season. Social media platforms like Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram offer tools that allow users to flag or report false or misleading content. By taking the time to report misinformation, individuals help ensure a more accurate flow of information, protecting the integrity of discussions and decision-making processes. This proactive approach empowers communities to hold platforms accountable and reduce the impact of harmful or deceptive narratives.

Helping Students Identify Fake News with the Five C's of Critical Consuming

The World Health Organization Reports

October 2, 2024

How to report misinformation online

As the world responds to the COVID-19 pandemic, we face the challenge of an overabundance of information related to the virus. Some of this information may be false and potentially harmful.

Inaccurate information spreads widely and at speed, making it more difficult for the public to identify verified facts and advice from trusted sources, such as their local health authority or WHO.

However, everyone can help to stop the spread. If you see content online that you believe to be false or misleading, you can report it to the hosting social media platform. Click Here to Read More

BBC News Reports

How to report fake news to social media

In our earlier guide to spotting fakes during the US election, we gave you some ground rules to help with identifying false or misleading reports.

Have I heard of the publisher before?

Is this the source I think it is, or does it sound a bit like them?

Can I point to where this happened on a map?

Has this been reported anywhere else?

Is there more than one piece of evidence for this claim?

Could this be something else?

Armed with these you can progress to reporting it to the authorities, in this case large multinational corporations from the USA.Click Here to Read More

Click Below to View Job Highlights of the Week!Job Highlights 10/14/2024Job Highlights 10/15/2024Job Highlights 10/16/2024Job Highlights 10/17/2024Job Highlights 10/18/2024Job Highlights 10/19/2024

#higherlearning #higherlearningtvshow #chicago #monday #mondaymorningmindfulness #thefemalesolution #youtube #women #youth #Super FullMoon #Energy Hitting Geomagnetic Storm Wave

0 notes

lowlights · 3 years ago

Text

Just Before - Din's POV

Hi, all. Thank you for loving the Just Right universe and our beloveds like you have. I think there's more to be told for these two, so I am expanding their little universe and adding more. We are starting with this little fic here, which is told from Din's POV. It gives us a bit more information about their history and leads up to the events in Just Right Part 1. Thank you to @ezrasbirdie who told me I was allowed to bring the pain a little bit.

Just Before

Pairing: Din Djarin x curvy f!reader (eventually); 1.1k words

Warnings: Yearning. Angst. Takes place after Grogu goes with Luke. Leads right up to Just Right Part 1.

Din’s sleepless night had slipped into a sleepless morning. It was her fault.

She didn’t do it on purpose, of course. She would never do anything to hurt him. But the kid was gone, handed off to Luke weeks ago, leaving both of them on unsteady ground. The credits from Moff Gideon’s capture had been transferred to him and were burning a hole in his account until it had come time to pick out a ship. She had looked confused when Din asked which room she wanted on the ship, and had to explain in a quiet voice that she didn’t think she would be staying now that Grogu was gone. Looking after him had been her job, after all.

She had panicked, thinking that Din wouldn’t need her anymore. Din had panicked, thinking that she might ever leave.

He decided to transfer the credits for this new ship the second she smiled and pointed to the smallest room at the front of the hall, indicating that she wanted that one to be hers. She could have anything she wanted as far as he was concerned, especially anything that made her smile at him like that. Din quickly made up an excuse that he needed her help keeping up with the ship and the cooking, which was something she loved to do.

The reality was that Din had loved her for a long time. It didn’t start out that way, though, because Din was always just focused on the task at hand. He needed someone to watch Grogu when he absolutely couldn’t go with him, so he found her. Problem solved.

What he didn’t expect was how she would slowly work her way into his heart, with her bright eyes and soft curves. At first, it was thoughtful things like learning what foods he liked to eat. Something no one had ever bothered to do. He thought he knew how much he care for her when he caught her singing to the kid one day, but then something happened that made him realize just how deeply he loved her.

She was there for him when Grogu had to leave in a way he didn’t even realize he needed. He wanted to push on, as a good Mandalorian would. Don’t stop to feel or acknowledge how much it hurts. Ke ne'kar'tayli. Don’t take it to heart.

But she took his hand, with tears in her eyes, and said, “We love him so much. It’s okay to miss him.”

He begged the gods never to take her from him.

He always yearned to get closer to her, aching to reach out and run his fingers through her hair or turn off all the lights and kiss her until he couldn’t breathe. He would even settle for just holding her hand if it meant that she would be safe and happy with him.

But where would he even begin? She probably didn’t even like him that way.

At least she was still with him. That was enough. Right?

Tonight was the first real night on the ship, everything loaded up and ready to leave the planet in the morning. She was busying herself with some tidying while dinner simmered away on the small burner in the tiny galley when Din walks in.

“Smells good,” he says from the doorway. “What can I do to help?” He always asked.

“Nothing, just come sit and enjoy,” she chirps. She always responded this way.

She serves Din first before getting a bowl for herself and sitting with her chair turned away from him, each taking up their familiar posts so that they can eat without her seeing his face. Din takes off his helmet and sets it down on the table beside him but doesn’t reach for his food. Instead, he stares at her back and thinks about how he could reach out and trail a hand across her shoulders.

She’s so close. She’s right there.

This is how it always feels to him, as though he is starving but he can’t quite reach the last fruit on the highest branch. It’s killing him to go another second without at least trying something, anything. He just needs her so much he thinks his heart might burst in his chest.

Please turn around. Please look at me. Please see me like I see you. He opens his mouth to speak and -

“Have you heard anything from Luke?” she asks, interrupting the words that were about to pour out from his soul.

He stuffs the words back inside, as quickly as possible, and curses the way his courage has disappeared like a whisper in a windstorm. “No, nothing,” he responds, and she mistakes the sadness in his voice to be only about Grogu.

“Well, I made up a bed for him for when he does come back. He’ll come back, Din, when he’s ready. I know he will.”

Din doesn’t make a sound.

After a few minutes, she sets her empty bowl down but doesn’t turn around, waiting for the sound of Din’s helmet to be put back on before getting up to clean.

“Oh, do you think we could stop at the market in town before we leave? I want to go get some of that yummy fruit we like,” she inquires as Din moves for the door. He’s never had the heart to tell her that he doesn’t actually like the fruit very much, but would buy crate after crate of it because she loves it.

“Sure,” he says. “Gonna turn in early, I’ll see you in the morning.” He doesn’t stop his march to his bedroom when he hears her confused “Oh, alright” float down the hallway.

He didn’t sleep at all. It was her fault.

But not really. How could she have known how much it’s killing him to love her from afar like this.

After a quick walk into town in the morning, she veers off to the produce booth while Din goes to see about trading some old tools for newer ones. Din is haggling with the mechanic in his hangar when he hears blaster fire and panics, running out into the bright sunlight.

His eyes scan the market that is erupting in chaos, looking for her by the fruit stand but not finding her. Kriff, where else would she go? After a few seconds, he sees her terrified face in the crowd scanning wildly, looking for him. He can tell the moment that her eyes lock onto his helmet by the relief that washes over her face. Din takes one step forward just as she does, but then an explosion rocks the market.

She’s gone.

No, please, no.

She’s gone.

Next: Just Right Part 1

#just right #din pov #din djarin #din djarin x female reader #din x plus size reader #i love them and i'm so excited to share more of their story #sorry for the pain in this one #the mandolarian #din djarin x reader #din x you

214 notes · View notes

marvelobsessedteenager · 4 years ago

Text

All The Hurt - Chapter 1

Pairing: Peter Parker x fem!reader

Warnings: ANGST, Peter was an ass, reader is a hurt and petty bitch, fluff to make up for the angst, curse words, lots of “coincidences”, description of an explosion and blood.

Summary: Peter Parker. What a dick. It wasn’t always like this, but once he just got up and gladly left you for an unknown reason, you decided to bring hell down on him by publicly ridiculing him whenever you got the chance. However, when you accidentally find out what he's been hiding, conflicted feelings begin emerging, causing you to wonder if you could ever forgive him — especially when he saves your life.

Word Count: 2.6k

A/n: this came to me in a fucking dream so you bet I had to wake up and write this. It’s already completed hehe. I’m going to be posting the parts every day so stay tuned :D

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

Never in your entire life would you have thought that there’d be a time when you’d willingly side with Flash. When you’d join him in bullying Peter, your best friend that you’d known since the both of you were shitting yourselves in diapers. Not a night goes by in which you don’t ask yourself why.

Why did he decide to break you?

The day he told you he didn’t want to be friends with you anymore was a day worse than finding out your father had cheated on your mother, prompting her to abruptly exit both your and your father’s lives when you were eleven. In all honesty, it felt like Peter took notes about suddenly leaving when you cried to him about your mother disappearing and used them to his advantage the summer before freshman year.

It was a pain like no other, a wound so hurtful your tear tank was constantly emptied every time you were alone in your room. There were too many nights where you’d lie awake with an ache in your chest - like someone dropped an avalanche on your heart and left it there to crush it.

Friendship breakups hurt like hell.

The days seemed to move slow and the nights even slower. You didn’t know how much time had passed when you’d blankly stare at your collection of photos of the two of you with tear stricken cheeks.

You constantly wondered if he regretted it.

And if he did, you told yourself you’d forgive him. You’d go back to him, because you were sure he didn’t mean it. Excuses began piling up in your mind, each one not having enough evidence to be proven true; maybe he was going through something he didn’t want to talk about. Maybe someone in his life died, like when Uncle Ben suddenly passed away. He didn’t speak to you for a week and didn’t show up to school, and when you went over to check on him, he broke down in your arms as he apologized for ignoring you, but you understood.

You always did.

So, you waited, and waited, and waited. Waited for a call, a text, something. But nothing ever came. No phone calls — he ignored yours — no apologies, no explanation, nothing but radio silence. It was almost like you never existed in the first place.

Day by day your hope slowly faded, and by the 56th day, all of it was gone. You didn’t know how to feel. You were furious at him for abandoning you. You were heartbroken. You told yourself you were being overdramatic — it wasn’t like you were in a relationship together, no matter how much you wanted to be.

All he ever saw you as was a friend. But that was before it all happened. Now he probably didn’t see you as anything but a stranger.

A stranger with memories and secrets revolving him.

Hot anger was quick to take control of your mind, and soon you stopped your crying and tore down years worth of captured memories and pinned birthday cards he made you - all reminders of how much you loved him - and threw them into a box. You shoved it to the back of your closet, along with your dignity and love for him.

Four months after your ‘breakup', you came back different. Newfound confidence shone out of you with every step you made down Midtown’s hallways. Your smile radiated happiness as you felt everyone’s eyes lay upon you. You were able to fool yourself and others around you that nothing happened. Your heart knew better, but soon it’d turn to stone.

And you convinced yourself that you preferred it that way.

You moved on, found friendship in others, and although they never lived up to him, they were enough to fill part of the gaping hole in your heart.

Flash making amends with you was probably the most surprising and unexpected thing to have ever happened in the school. You two got along well, almost too well, and about halfway into the school year, you became good friends. You two weren’t as close as you and Peter once were, but you bonded over your absent parents in ways you didn’t know were possible.

You felt understood, and he the same.

Still, that didn’t stop you from seeing Peter in the hallways. You made it a point to walk past him like you didn’t know him — because apparently, you didn’t.

You kept watching him from a distance.

You watched him make goo-goo eyes at Liz while rolling your own.

You watched him dart out of school at exactly two forty-five every day. You saw the anxiousness in the way he bounced his leg during class, the tapping of his pencil on the desk, the constant glances he threw at the clock with every minute that passed. You wanted to ask, but you didn’t.

On a particular day, the same day you overheard him and Ned making plans to meet up at his house to build Legos, you decided to go to Delmar’s to grab a bite. You hadn’t been there since the breakup, as you were always too nervous in case Peter ended up going there at the same time, and now that there was a clearing, you took it. Even if he was there, you didn't care.

You don’t.

When you stepped into the store, you were immediately welcomed by the one and only Mr. Delmar. He looked good — happy and content, and that’s why you absolutely adored him. It wasn’t fair that you cut off ties with him because of Peter, but he didn’t seem to take it personally. He went on and on about how much taller you’ve gotten and reminisced about how little you were when you and Peter got your first flattened number five sandwiches with pickles.

He must’ve seen your smile falter at the mention of Peter, because his eyebrows furrowed in concern not a moment later, “Did something happen to you kids? I never see him come with you anymore.”

So he’s been coming without you.

Ouch. That’s another stab to the heart.

Your palms began to feel slick as you rubbed them on your jeans with a strained smile and a shaky voice, feeling as if the walls were closing in on you, “Uh-we-“

But you never got to finish. Mr. Delmar’s eyes widened at something behind you, and in a split second, he yelled, “Get down!” followed by a string of Spanish curse words.

A scream left your mouth as a purple wave of something ripped through the bodega, nearly missing you by a strand of hair as you ducked. Shattered glass scattered everywhere, digging into the skin of your arms in a multitude of places. You hissed at the burn you felt below your eye, feeling a heavy liquid (which you assumed was blood) trail down your cheek and neck. You felt intense heat near your legs and your vision became blurred, ears ringing as all other noises besides your breathing became muffled. You coughed and coughed, feeling like your lungs were closing in on themselves from the fire that surrounded you.

The light above you flickered as you attempted to shout Mr. Delmar’s name, praying that he was all right.

But your voice never left your throat.

Your legs were trapped below two giant shelves that collapsed on them, and you weren’t strong enough to move them no matter how many times you tried to. The fire slithered like a snake as it began climbing to where your legs were being held below the rubble.

“Help.” You weakly whispered in between your coughs. The air around you felt heavy and limited, and it was starting to feel like you were choking on the fumes. You didn’t know how much longer your lungs could take.

It was hot. So fucking hot.

Your eyes shut and your head fell back on the ground, chest heaving in fast paces as you felt your body give up already, a burning sensation spreading all over you, like your insides were set on fire.

Your face trickled with sweat that dripped down to your cheeks, mixing with your tears.

Just when all hope was gone, just when you thought you were done for, you felt the weight lift off of your legs in one sudden movement, and an arm slide beneath your knees and on your back, holding you tightly.

You looked up at your savior, and who else could it have been other than Spider-Man, New York’s knight in shining armor, and apparently yours, too. You heard part of what he seemed to be saying as he looked down at you: “…got…I…you” and you could’ve sworn you heard your name.

But then again, you were on the brink of death, so you were no doubt hearing things.

You laid your tired head on his chest, wheezing into his smooth suit as he ran and jumped away from the fire until he reached the outside. He gingerly placed you on the ground and made you lean back against a parked car, and you breathed in the cool night air as he crouched down to rub your back while you practically choked.

In front of Spider-Man.

How embarrassing.

You felt your head heavily fall back as you clutched your arm in pain, the distant sound of police sirens audible now. Your eyes landed upon his covered face that turned away when you looked at him - like he was staring at you until you caught him. You could see that he wanted to go somewhere in the way that his spidey-eyes were expanding and shrinking at the destroyed bank across the street. You moved to touch your legs, and by some miracle, they were just a little sore. You could manage on your own.

“Go,” you breathily said, making Spider-Man look down at you, “I’m okay.”

He hesitated for a moment and pivoted his head to your legs. You breathed out half a laugh, coughing again, “Dude,” you placed a hand on his shoulder and jutted towards your legs as you began moving them, “they’re fine. I’m fine. I know you wanna go somewhere. Just go after it.”

He stayed. For a long minute, just watching you breathe and tilt your head at him. You wondered what was going on in that brain of his, wondered how old he was, wondered where he went to school - if he even went to school. You were trying to formulate a way to thank him for saving you, but you didn’t get the chance to. He nodded and quickly he sprung away, making way for the paramedics and cops to inspect the scene.

You didn’t go to school for a whole week after the incident, as you were too busy reflecting on what had happened. You went over multiple scenarios and “what if’s” and tried not to dwell on the fact that you had to have your driver pick you up from the hospital, not your father. He was probably out of the country, like he always was.

When you finally returned to school, you had stitched up three areas, including one below your eye, and were bombarded with questions and a large group hug from your friends. Your phone was no doubt a goner, so they had no way of contacting you. Even when they tried to come over, your housekeeper, Jane, always the responsible adult, told them the doctor needed you to rest alone.

She knew you couldn’t handle people, and needed to recharge on your own. She was like the mother you never had. Even when Peter left, she stayed by your side and tried to cheer you up. She knew how strong your feelings were for Peter, but she didn’t question you, instead allowing you to grieve the way you wanted to - alone.

Your friends asked you about what happened, and their eyes sparkled when you told them the Spider-Man came to your rescue, their excitement cutting short once the bell rang. They all left to go to their classes after wishing you a quick recovery. All but one.

Flash stood in front of you, nibbling on his lower lip with a wobbling chin and glassy eyes.

“Are you..crying?” you squinted at him, lips twitching into a smirk.

“Shut up,” he mumbled, wiping the stray tears before attacking you with a tight hug. You sighed deeply, feeling a nostalgic warmth spread through your chest as you placed your chin on his shoulder, arms circulating him and squeezing in a way that said "I’m here."

In class, you felt hardcore stares — stares that came from one person and one person only. You saw them from the corner of your eye, tracing the scar on your face. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think they were laced with worry. But perhaps you hit your head too hard.

During gym class, the last class of the day, you were excused from exercises due to your near-death experience, so you watched and cheered Flash as he climbed the ropes, attempting to break his own record.

“48 seconds.” You stated, pausing the timer as he jumped to the ground and planted his hands on his knees, breathing hard.

He looked up at you with a deep frown, “Seriously? How did I get slower?”

You shrugged, “Maybe you should change your nickname, Eugene.” You smirked, taunting him with the name you knew he hated.

He breathed out a laugh as he shook his head. He was about to say something when Ned’s voice overpowered everyone else’s with one sentence: “Peter knows Spider-Man!”

Everybody went so silent you’d think the queen of England had just walked in.

The sound of balls being dropped and shoes squeaking echoed through the gym as all heads turned to Peter Parker, who nervously looked around and quickly stood up, “Uh, no! No, I don’t. I-I mean..”

He clumsily made his way over to Liz (go figure), whose face remained expressionless.

“They’re friends,” Ned said as a matter of factly.

“Yeah, like Coach Wilson and Captain America are friends,” Flash said, making a couple of people laugh, including you.

“I’ve met him, yeah, a-a couple of times. But it’s um, through the...Stark...Internship. I’m not really supposed to talk about it.” He gritted through his teeth as he threw daggers at Ned with wide eyes.

“Well, that’s awesome!” You piped in, your loud sarcasm breaking the silence that settled over the gym, "He’s a pretty cool guy, I’m sure Liz would love to meet him. Hey, maybe you should invite him to her party.”

“Yeah, I’m having people over tonight, you’re more than welcome to come.” Liz sweetly admitted, almost like she wanted him to come.

Ew.

“You’re having a party?” Peter said breathlessly, as if that wasn’t what you just said.

Flash gave Peter a snarling smile, “Yeah, it’s gonna be dope. You should totally invite your personal friend Spider-Man.” He suggested, derision oozing out of his words.

“Um-“ Peter stammered, helpless eyes searching for assistance in your own. But you wouldn’t give him any sympathy. Not anymore. You stared back, cold as ice, and you knew he saw that. You merely gave him a raised eyebrow, challenging him to say something.

“It’s okay,” Liz said, breaking you and Peter’s eye contact, “I know Peter’s way too busy for parties anyways so..”

“Oh, come on, he’ll be there. Parker wouldn’t ditch.” You said, voice dripping with venom as you maintained eye contact with him and walked past Flash until you reached him. You stopped at his side, just enough to give him a deadly stare, “Right?”

You watched his Adam’s apple bob and eyes dart across the ground as his fingers tangled with one another to conceal his shaking left hand. You studied his face, ignoring something that looked like a fading bruise on his jaw. The school bell rang, and with that, Flash walked to you, raising his hand for a fist pump. You bumped yours with his with a smirk and walked out the gym doors, ready to call Peter out on his bullshit once more tonight.

Next Chapter All The Hurt Masterlist Main Masterlist

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #peter parker x y/n #y/n #marvel #tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fanfic #tom holland x reader #tom holland angst #spiderman #spiderman x reader

116 notes · View notes

ally22042000 · 4 years ago

Text

Linked by fate

Shifting

Werewolf AU

Fluff, Angst

OT7 x Reader

Pack Alpha: Namjoon Alpha: Hoseok, Jimin, Jungkook Beta: Seokjin, Yoongi, Taehyung Omega: Y/N

Wordcount: 1.7K

Commenting and rebloging is always appreciated.

A/N: Hey, guys. I hope you are going to like this chapter. I was thinking about creating little mood boards, so you have an overview of their fur colour, etcetera. Let me know what you think about that. -Ally

It was in elementary when your animal instincts slowly started to make their appearances. While the position a wolf had was clear from birth, their natural behaviours didn’t start to show until later into their upbringings. Unhurriedly the process begins during childhood and steadily takes over more of their senses. The stronger instincts like the alpha’s power to force others to follow any of their command or heats and ruts, didn’t begin until the late teenage years. To ensure the safety of everyone and the capability for beta and omega parents to raise alpha children.

Another feature that slowly starts is the ability to turn into your wolf form. Namjoon was the first of our pack to shift. The calling to protect his younger to strong. It took over his body and made him show his true power as the pack alpha he was born to be. His parents were immensely proud, thankful that he wasn’t a late shifter. Wolfs that didn’t turn before their fourteenth birthday were often frowned upon and seen as a lacking member of the clan.

Next in line was Hobi. He had always had a strong connection to his basic instincts. Having been trained to fight from a young age and coming from a strong lineage of worriers, nobody was surprise that he shifted shortly after he turned nine. Since than he often favoured to walk around in is furred form. It felt more like himself, is what he said whenever someone asked.

Jungkook shift was a surprise to everyone. It was rare for someone, who didn’t come from a strong blood line to turn before their tenth birthday but like always the golden boy defeated any standards and turned on his eight birthday. All of you had gathered in his small living room. With his parents both being omegas they weren’t able to afford much. Most jobs, especially the ones who help authority, where given to alphas or betas. Omegas were regarded as to much of a push over to stand their ground when needed. That lead to them having a smaller income than the other to wolf species. But disregarding the financial consequences and the fact they wouldn’t be able to have a child with each other, they stayed together; their love too strong to break. Considering the impossibility of them having a child together, Jungkook knew from a young age, that he was adopted. A fact that never bothered him. Something his parents were eternally grateful for.

His mother brought in the cake and set it down in front of the little boy. Everyone around him was singing, while he closed his eyes and made a wish. Desiring that this moment would never fade, him surrounded by the people he cared deeply for. Everyone healthy and a smile painting their lips while they celebrated his birthday. He filled his lungs with air and looked at the eight little flames in front of him. But instead of the sound of rushing air and cheering, the ripping of cloth was heard, and a little black wolf was sat on the stool in lieu.

The room went silent everyone staring at the puppy with the big eyes. Slowly similes formed on their faces, happy that a new wolf found its fur. Cheers and clapping filled the room. Congratulations came flying Jungkook’s way, little hands stretching and shoving to touch his fur. His father returning with a camera and capturing the scene. His mother wiping away a stray tear of happiness. Glad she was able to witness that new chapter in her son’s live. Meanwhile Jin watched the situation from his chair unmoving and having eyes for one thing and one thing only: “Yeah, that’s really great but can we eat cake now.”

Jin and Tae funnily shifted at the same time. It was a sunny Sunday afternoon and all of you with the exception of Namjoon and Hoseok, who were attending a pack meeting in request of their parents, were playing in Yoongi’s backyard. Both his parents were gone one a hunting trip for a few days, like they often were, leaving Yoongi and his brother on their own. The beta was in his wolf form, having turned a few weeks ago while turning on the shower and the water having been too cold. His brown fur with a read hint feeling silky as you braided it. When you stared, he let out a little huff, showing annoyance at your antics, but being too lazy to move he let you do your thing. You smirked to yourself, knowing that he actually enjoyed the feeling of your finger running through his fur.

Jimin and Jungkook were training on one side of the huge yard. Both of them started taking a liking to taekwondo. Meanwhile the other two troublemakers were playing a game of badminton on the other side of the field. A loud yell was heard, when Jin lost another point to the younger, the wind’s fault of course.

After two more failed attempts the oldest threw down his racked in anger and started chasing the dark haired. Laughter filled the air as Tae took off. The feel of the chase awoke something primal in Jin and before he knew it a new sensation washed over his skin and he suddenly chased Tae on four legs instead of the usual two. The youngers instincts were triggered by the older wolf chasing him and his own first shift took place. Tae had a soft looking, sand coloured fur, while Jin was another brown one but with more of an ashy touch.

The rest of the afternoon the both of them explored their new ability alongside Jungkook. Jimin had taken residency behind you, back hugging you while watching the others. Although you couldn’t see his face, you felt the wave of sadness that washed over him. The both of you were the only ones who hadn’t turned yet. You were only twelve so you still had enough time before it would be considered abnormal, but the pressure lingered.

Jimin didn’t turn until he was seventeen, a fact which cost him a lot of fights with his parents and multiple appointments with his doctor. Countless nights spent in your bed, crying into your pillow, screaming because of the pain this was causing him. With him being the alpha, he was expected to be this strong wolf that no one stood a chance against, but here he was not able to do the simplest thing known to your beings.

When he did turn his wolf was coated in a beautiful fur of the purest white you had ever laid eyes upon. His animal form as elegant as his human. His parents were proud and from there perspective Jimin’s flaw had faded just like their problems, but in reality, their relationship never went back to the way it was. He wasn’t the kid that ran home from school because he missed his mother anymore. Or the one that would tremble on his feet at his first dance performance, until he saw his fathers encouraging smile, which could wash away any problem, and let him be the beautiful swan he was.

You had turned a day after Jimin, had cried yourself to sleep the night before at the fact that you were the only one of your group that hadn’t turned yet. You were happy for Jimin when he called you and told you about the great news; genuinely. But the fear and self-hatred crawled up on you at night. Reminding you of your duty, as an omega and as a wolf, to your pack and your incapability of living up to it.

The following day you felt nauseous and empty, but still your parents forced you to attend school. As a senior it was important to be present as often as possible and to learn until your brain smoked to insure you could attend the collage of your choosing. You made it to two lessons, before the sick feeling in your stomach won the upper hand and you ran to the bathroom. Having arrived at the stall and preparing yourself to let out your small breakfast, a warmth like never before overcame you. You let out a pained breath as you felt your body expand and your cloth rip. And then you stood there, grey fur covering your body as you saw yourself in the bathroom mirror.

Your ears flexed at every sound that could be heard from outside. The footsteps of a person running somewhere; probably late for class. The uncomfortable squeaking of a chalk on a black board. Then a waft of a delicious smell slipped through the opening beneath the door. The cafeteria ladies had started cooking lunch. Hamburgers and fries how it seemed. And then you could smell a familiar scent, one that you would be able to pick up anywhere. Clumsily you were able to open the door with your bowl sized paws. You hurried down the hallway, slipping a few times on the freshly cleaned tiles.

You almost ran Namjoon over when you saw him. Standing before his locker, he was grabbing a history book for his next lesson, when you bumped into him. At first, he was simply shocked, pondering why a stranger would run into him like that. But then he picked up on your sent slowly, his olfactory sense not having fully developed yet, it took him awhile to realise who was standing in front of him.

A lazy grin covered his face as realisation hit him. Slowly he got down on his knees and warped his arms around your neck: “Hello my pretty omega, welcome to your true form.”

The others were ecstatic when they heard the good news. Happy that all of their group members had been blessed with the ability to shift, knowing of the horrific outcome the situation could have had, had you not turned before your eighteenth birthday. When every wolf was fully developed, and alphas gained the capability of forming their pack and gifting their mark.

Your pack was safe, healthy, and happy, and that was all that concerned you for now.

#bts #bts x reader #linked by fate #OT7 BTS #ot7 x reader #werewolf #au #bts fluff #bts angst

190 notes · View notes

exosmutfactory · 3 years ago

Text

Six Phases 006 Pt 6

Who knew it nearly took 6 months to win your heart, and 6 phases for Baekhyun to lose his mind.

A/N: I couldn't find a picture to match Baekhyun's appearance—so I chose one that fits his mood instead 2.0 😅 ♡

[ contains: angst ] Two’s a couple, Three’s a crowd 💔

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 P(1) P(2) | Part 4 P(1) P(2) | Part 5 P(1) P(2) | Part 6 P(1) P(2) —– P(3) P(4) —– P(5) P(6) ✓ ||| ♬♩♪♩ FINALE P(1) P(2)

•⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •

My heels click rhythmically on the sidewalk, in perfect sync with the song I’m humming. I’ve taken a liking to listening to new music lately instead of sticking to the same old artists that I’ve heard a thousand times. Trying to expand my horizons and replace sob-inducing ballads with uplifting trap beats.

It’s going okay so far: moving on. Learning how to navigate the world while riding solo. It’s not like I haven’t done it before—sleepless nights aren’t new. Lack of appetite isn’t either. A breakup will never be the end of the world, no matter how excruciating it is. So why should I let it hold me back and define me?

Birds chirp merrily in the trees, bringing a smile to my face, especially when I catch sight of a little hummingbird enjoying nectar from a patch of flowers. If there’s one thing I can say that has helped me during this time, it’s nature. Simply looking out at the world from my apartment window and taking long walks around the more remote parts of this city have calmed my soul more than I can express with words.

I’m watching the squirrels scurry around on the other side of the street while waiting for the crosswalk light to turn green when my phone buzzes in my pocket. I sigh, so much for a moment of tranquility.

I pull my phone out of my tiny jean pocket, furrowing my brows at the caller ID. Jongin…? That’s strange, has he ever called me before? I rack my brain for answers. Nope, this is the first time he is calling me. Flashbacks of our distant friendship since that one summer fight I had with a certain someone flashes through my mind... I press my phone to my ear before I can overthink it any longer. "Hello?"

"Riley." Jongin’s smooth voice filters over the line.

"Hi," I mumble, continuing down the street, noticing a beautiful blue and green butterfly flying by with a smile. The pitter patter of a water fountain in the distance has me falling back into my 'Zen’ mode. "What’s up? How are you?"

"I need a favor." He drops; straight to the point. Sending me right into a panic.

My phone nearly falls to the ground. "...You didn’t break a leg or something-"

"No, no," He immediately responds, recognizing the high pitch of hysteria in my voice. "It’s nothing bad."

Thank fuck, the last thing I need right now is bad news. It may be the end of March, but I’m not really feeling this 'Spring’ season. My mood shifts faster than the strong wind. The only stress I try to have nowadays are always work related because if I stop and think about my personal life for a moment I am fucked.

I take a deep breath, leaning my back against a light pole before replying to him. "Okay."

"There’s a dance competition in June," He slowly explains, "and I need a partner."

"Oh..." I blink a few times, straightening back up. "Huh… I’m sorry, I’m not really good at choosing candidates. I’m not a professional-"

"I mean you." He interjects, background music drifting over the line. "I want you to be my partner."

I pull the phone away from my ear for a moment, looking at it in disbelief, "I'm sorry—What?"

"I have a routine already," His voice takes on a warmer tone, pure persuasion dripping from his honeyed words. "With your name all over it."

"...Eh??" I look off to the side, trying in vain to find something—anything to distract me from the tingles zapping down my spine at the sound of his voice. God… what the fuck? "Don’t you have like a million other people who specialize in-"

"I made the choreography for you."

My heart hammers in my chest. "And why the heck would you do that?" I demand, tightening my grip on the phone. Something out of the corner of my eye suddenly captures my attention, dragging my eyes over to it instantly. The sight that greets me has my throat going dry, gulping as my hands shake.

It’s Baekhyun—and he isn’t alone.

He’s accompanied by a tall, beautiful woman, the same height as him in her flat sandals. Her black hair reaches the middle of her back, contrasting against her light blue overalls and swaying softly in the cool wind. They lean against a brick wall next to a cute coffee shop with matching coffee cups in their hands.

Jongin’s words fade into background noise while I watch them. My vision blurs when she laughs, resting her hand on his arm. The way she easily initiates physical contact with him speaks volumes; this isn’t their first meeting. It’s been 2 months since January, and yet...

My heart constricts painfully in my chest, I suck in a deep breath. Lightheadedness hits me full force, I quickly cling onto the pole when my body sways off balance. Shit… I must have been holding my breath.

"Riley?" Jongin’s muffled voice drifts from my distant phone. Thankfully it fell onto the parking meteor next to me and not on the ground. "Riley!"

Burning a hole into the back of Baekhyun’s silver-haired head, I bring the phone back to my ear. "I’ll do it," I mumble lowly.

"I’m sorry?"

Staring at Baekhyun and his new friend, I make my decision. "I’ll be your partner."

•••

Okay… Maybe I was too hasty in agreeing to this whole dance competition thing. I should have waited to make a decision when I was in a better state of mind.

It’s been a good four weeks since I agreed to be Jongin’s partner—four weeks of pure hell.

If I had known what kind of dance moves were incorporated in this routine I never ever would have agreed. The choreography appears simple and subtle enough on the surface, especially thanks to Jongin’s gifted skills, but that’s the problem. It’s not simple; it’s a fucking ankle breaker. It’s pure well-organized insanity and I don’t know how much more of it that I can take.

"From the top," Jongin’s voice echoes in the dance studio. He presses a remote to start the song over again. I try to stay focused, ignoring the looming figures of the other hostile dancers in the room. Why they all gathered here to watch us practice today, I have no idea, but it isn’t helping me at all.

The bass booming from the stereo speakers vibrates the wood under my feet. Sweat permeates the air. Their predator-like stares break me down from the inside out. The memory of Baekhyun with that woman pops into my mind...

"5, 6, 7-"

Shit!

Gasps echo around the room when it happens: I collapse onto the floor, clutching onto my throbbing ankle.

"Riley?!" Something about the alarm in Jongin’s voice makes me wince, curling in on myself as everyone’s whispers float into the air.

"Oh my god, is she serious...?"

"See what I mean! She has two left feet. Why is he wasting his time on her?"

"Dumbass can’t even do a single number, let alone a simple choreography. The way he chose that over me…"

I try my best to reel in my emotions, to keep the hurt from being seen on my face, but there’s only so much I can bear—there’s only so much I can take.

Tears pelt down my face while their loud gasps and delighted giggles fill the air. I make a move to climb to my feet, ready to bolt out of here and never step foot in this place again when a gentle hand on my shoulder stops me.

"Riley." It’s Jongin, crouching down to meet my eye. "Are you okay?"

I can only shake my head, losing my breath as their taunting voices swirl around my head like a whirlpool, consuming me whole.

"Riley, stay with me." Jongin rests both his hands on my shoulders, directing my eyes to his whenever I look away. "Talk to me. What’s wrong?"

"I-I," I choke, covering my face in my hands before I sob pathetically on the hardwood floor. The throbbing of my backside and ankle only makes it worse.

"Ri-"

"Look at her! Pathetic at it’s finest."

Jongin stiffens, I don’t even need to see him to know that he’s gone rigid. His hand slips off my shoulder as I watch his silhouette rise from the spaces between my fingers, standing to his full height.

"Mind sharing with the class what you just said, Kim Nora?" He looks at the woman in the middle of the 5 dancers leaning against the far wall, his jaw clenching.

"I-"

"If you have something to say, say it."

"I’ve been waiting for this opportunity for years. Years, Jongin!" She snaps, her shrill voice bouncing off of the walls. "I’m on time for every rehearsal. I practice until I bleed. Why does this no-name slut get to come in here and take it from me when she can’t even stand on her own two feet?!"

"Kim Nora." The way he says her name has everyone on edge. My back prickles in fear and secondhand embarrassment. He’s not even directing that stone cold tone at me and I’m hella uncomfortable sitting here.

"Who’s dance studio is this, Nora?"

"Yours-" She looks away, not brave enough to meet his eyes anymore. "-M-Mr. Kim..."

Jongin hums, holding his hands behind his back while pacing up and down the floor. "Who’s name is on the sign out front, everyone?"

"Yours, Mr. Kim." They chime in sync with meek voices. A look of regret painted on every single one of their faces.

"Mine." He concludes, satisfied before turning his dark eyes back onto Nora. "Let me explain something to you, Nora."

Her eyes stay focused on the floor.

"This is my practice, my building." He stops pacing, stretching his arms out to showcase the room. "You are under my roof." He looks dead at her, eyes colder than ice. "You are here because I let you. Do you understand that?"

"Y-yes, sir, but I-"

"Next time," He cuts her off, "You decide to be immature. Next time, you decide that your knowledge is anything close to my expertise." He steps closer, and I’ve never seen a person standing 3 feet away have such an impact on an individual. "Next time, you decide to mock one of my friends." He lowers his voice, and I can feel the heavy promise coming off him in waves. "You are gone. Do you understand me?"

Nora babbles something unintelligible, tears brimming her eyeliner caked eyes.

"Do you understand me?"

"Y-yes!" She sucks in a breath, snot clogging her nose as she directs her eyes back to the floor. "Yes, sir."

"Good." He steps away, turning on his heel before rushing back over to me. "Riley," His voice is softer now, much like the Jongin who helped rescue me from my birthday party 2 years ago.

"Hey..." I hush, lowering my hands to my lap.

"Are you okay?" He hands me a clean towel, his brows furrowed in worry. "How’s your ankle?"

"I-It’s fine."

He raises a brow, reaching out a hand to me. "May I?"

"Yeah." I sigh, noticing the familiar look of concern on his face.

Jongin takes my ankle into his hands, handling it carefully and pressing a few places. "Does it hurt?" His frown deepens when I wince. "And here?"

"Yeah," I nod, my face pinched up in pain.

"From 1 to 10," He continues, looking me dead in the eyes, "How much pain are you in?"

My lips part to answer, but I pause, biting the bullet and wiggling my ankle around to see how bad it actually is. "F-four out of ten." I grit out, still so sensitive that tears sting my eyes again.

"It’s sprained." He concludes, gently lowering it back to the floor.

"W-what does that mean?" I ask fearfully. Whatever it means, it doesn’t sound good with the contest 6 weeks away. Shit, why am I such a fuck up? What if I can’t perform let alone learn the choreography in time? I’m such a failure, I-

"It’s not bad," He reassures, resting a comforting hand on my arm. "A few days off of it and you should be good as new."

"R-really?"

Jongin nods, smiling softly. "Nothing a few days off can’t fix."

"Oh, thank you," I whisper in relief, wrapping my arms around his neck to mask the tears that escape my eyes. "Thank you, thank you."

"No," Jongin shakes his head, hugging me warmly, whispering just as quietly in my ear. "Thank you."

•••

After that day, none of the dancers have bothered me, let alone showed up to any more dance practices. Jongin made sure of that. No one fucked around with him either after the way he resolved the issue. An angry Jongin is a scary Jongin; that much I know now.

Sighing softly, I look up at the fluffy clouds overhead, trying to salvage the calm that washes over me in wake of April’s flourishing weather. The flowers are more alive than ever. Small animals and other critters run around for food on the ground. The world around me is the picture-perfect example of nature at its finest—so why is there an uneasy feeling weighing on my chest?

Work is going well and the book we had spent months and months preparing was released last week. I’m on my way to the nearest bookstore to grab a copy for myself. To check that no grammar related errors got past my keen eyes or because I genuinely enjoy the novel, who knows. I want to see the final product for myself and check out other releases. It’s about time I pick up another book besides the one I stayed up countless nights making sure everything was finalized.

A cute bell chimes when I step through the door, hit with the aroma of fresh coffee. Every time I go to a bookstore or library, it’s like I am stepping into another world. The shelves filled to the brim with hundreds, maybe thousands of literature, all at the touch of your fingertips.

From ebooks to the dusty classics, I love them all. I may not read everything; I might be one of the pickiest readers out there, but I appreciate the blood, sweat, and tears that go into every completed book. Good or bad, the author has big balls for trying and putting their name out there. I have mad respect for that.

Venturing further into the shop, my eyes catch the Fantasy section with ease. I make my way over, already seeing a colorful display set out for the newest releases. The sight of the book I’m looking for brings a smile to my face. It feels different to see it in a store instead of reading the rough drafts in the comfort of my bed. Damn the graphic designers put their foot in the cover; it captures the personalities of the main characters perfectly. I couldn’t be more proud.

My smile widens the closer I get to the display, realizing that there is only one copy left of the book. Deserved; everyone from the author to the marketing team have done their best to make this book a big seller. Thankfully the universe left one just for me.

Just as my fingertips touch the edge of the paperback cover, someone else’s hand brushes against mine.

"Oh! Sorry-"

"Ah, I’m so sor-"

My heart plummets and my head snaps up to look at them at once. Puppy brown eyes that I could identify out of countless others and a million stars stare wide-eyed right back into mine.

Fuck.

"Riley?" He breathes, his handsome face painted in disbelief.

I can only wheeze, my chest throbbing as if my heart will explode.

Fuck fuck fuck shit fuck—

Before he can say another word, before I can crumble in front of his questioning orbs, I turn on my heel and sprint out of there like a bat out of hell.

I’ve been doing better, I’m slowly healing from it all, but the moment I see his face—his sweet, tired, kicked-puppy face, I fold quicker than an umbrella in an incoming hurricane. It hurts worse than the force of an 18-wheeler. My whole world full of its fragile edges and duct tape unravels under the weight.

Normally, I wouldn’t do this.

…

Okay scratch that—I used to do this. All the damn time, but with the way our lives have changed and that one conversation we had back in March 2 years ago I… I haven’t been able to bring myself to talk to him. I’ve made it my mission to avoid Sehun.

I know what he will say the minute I tell him what’s up: I told you so—the bane of my existence. That one phrase alone is enough to keep me from confessing so many things. I rather suffer in silence than hear that sentence, but… This is different.

No matter how much it pains me and paints me in shame, I need to tell my best friend what's been going on. After everything he has done for me since our childhood... I owe him that much. So here I am now.

I chew on my bottom lip and knock firmly on his apartment door, waiting for someone to answer with bated breath.

It opens a few minutes later, revealing his unmistakable tall form as he dries his hair. Sehun does a double take. "Shorty?" He breathes in disbelief, pausing in ruffling his messy black locks.

I laugh a little, warmth sparking in my aching heart from the nickname. "Yeah," I breathe, managing a wobbly smile, already feeling tears prickle my eyes. "That's me."

We stare at each other for a long moment, nothing but the distant swish of driving cars and the muffled conversations happening beyond the open balcony on his floor fills the silence. Ah… My heart squeezes painfully in my chest. I shouldn’t have come here. He’s probably busy enough as it is-

As if reading my mind, Sehun’s gaze softens. He throws the towel around his neck before opening his arms. "Come here."

I bury myself in his chest without hesitation, soaking the fabric of his black t-shirt with my tears. "I’m sorry," I croak, holding back sobs.

"Hey, hey," a low, soothing voice chimes in, resting a hand on my arm. "What happened?"

"I don’t know," Sehun mumbles, rubbing my back as I shake in his arms. "But whoever did it will be missing an arm."

"N-No need, Hun," I sniffle with a shaky sigh, pulling away from his embrace. A chill covers my skin with goosebumps the moment I step away. It’s been like this all week; feeling hot to the touch, yet shaking like a leaf at the same time. I have no idea what is going on, and at this point… I don’t want to know. I can say that for a lot of things.

Wiping my face with the back of my hand, I turn around, smiling apologetically at the brown-haired man standing in the doorway. "I’m sorry for popping up out of the blue, Lu."

"Nonsense," Luhan shakes his head, his curly hair partially covering his worry-filled eyes. He takes my hand between his, "Come in, I’ll make us some tea."

"Okay," I whisper, shuffling into their apartment. I take the tissue box he offers me, following him into the spacious living room. He goes into the kitchen while I sit down on their couch, my breath hitching from the emotions budding in my chest.

Sehun closes the door, noisily walking on the wooden floor in his flip flops. He sits down next to me, questioning me with his unwavering stare, but I can’t bring myself to meet his eye. I… I don’t know where to begin; I can’t even find the words. The squeal of the teapot in the other room fills the tense silence between us.

"Alright," He sighs, propping his foot up on the coffee table and resting his arm on his knee before giving me a hard look. "What did Byun do?"

I choke, snapping my eyes to his, "How do you know?"

"You never visit," He points out in the driest of tones. "And when you do, you always call first."

I can only lower my head, pulling my knees to my chest.

"You don’t usually cry after seeing my face either. I mean," He continues, nudging me with his elbow. "Am I ugly or something?"

I snort. "Shut up." Shaking my head, I sigh deeply. "I just… A lot has happened." Risking a peek at him, my shoulders relax at the worried furrow of his brows and the care in his sharp brown eyes.

He nods, smiling the softest that I’ve seen in a long time. "I got time."

I smile a little, my chest bursting in gratefulness for having a friend like him in my life. No matter what happens or what I get into, I can always count on Sehun to be there.

…

If only I didn’t have so much baggage to bring to his door.

"I…" Come on; I ball my hands into the fabric of my shirt. Say it.

Sehun keeps his eyes on me and I struggle more to get the words out, my chest starting to heave. Should I be here? Should I be doing this? What will he say? What if this just makes everything worse—

No.

Sehun is my best friend. We have shared so many memories together, the good and the bad. I was the first person he came out to. He was there when my father walked out of my life. I cheered him on as he climbed the ranks of his weight training team. He helped me catch fireflies in my backyard when all I could rely on was my poor eyesight.

It’s always been him and I against this cruel world. One man—one boy, won’t change that overnight.

"I broke up with Baekhyun."

"What?!" Sehun leaps off of the couch. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah..." I drag out, looking him up and down in confusion. Panic hits me in the gut. "W-Why? What’s wrong-"

"Dude!" He exclaims, tangling his hands in his hair, the most comically distressed expression on his normally 'bitch’ face. "I thought he broke up with you."

The thought of what would have happened if Baekhyun had been the one to dump me makes my heart hurt so much I feel the color drain from my face.

"H-Hey," Sehun immediately takes notice, waving his hands around. "Not on the couch, anywhere but the couch-"

Luhan suddenly appears behind him with a tray of drinks, lovingly smacking the back of his head. "Here," He soothes, ignoring Sehun’s pelulant whines while setting down the tray on the coffee table and offering a mug to me.

"Thank you, Lu." I breathe, smiling when the scent of lemon and ginger hits my nose.

Luhan takes the seat on the other side of me, resting a comforting hand on my knee. "We’re here." He nods, sharing a look with Sehun before focusing back on me with the gentlest of eyes. "Whenever you are ready."

Gulping, I curl my fingers around my mug, the warmth of the tea and their soft eyes giving me the strength to open up.

I am finally able to put everything into words… I just hope we all make it out unscathed.

Closing my eyes, I start from the very beginning, updating them on what has happened since the year we started dating. The summer fight I never told Sehun about, Baekhyun’s ex Haneul following me around. The French lady at the photoshoot, the model behind the scenes. Our fight that reached the public. What went down at the Byun’s house… And finally… how I ran, and never looked back.

Sehun’s facial expressions shift from one extreme to the next throughout my confession. At one point I have to look away from him, stuttering the more I see the disappointment in his eyes. By the end of it, I’m mumbling to the lukewarm mug between my palms rather than them.

My words trail off into silence, nothing but the ticking of Luhan’s treasured grandfather clock making a sound. I’ve grown to hate this the most: the empty space that leaves room for my thoughts to sneak up on me again.

"You were hiding all of this..." Sehun speaks up, betrayal joining the disappointment in his eyes. "All this time."

A lump forms in my throat, "I-"

"You kept this to yourself for years." He grits out, his voice growing sadder by the minute. "Years, Riley."

"I’m sorry," I sob, curling up into a ball, choking on my tears. "I’m s-so sorry."

"Why?" He runs a hand through his hair, squeezing his eyes shut.

"I-I didn’t wanna bother you," I babble, gasping so much for air I choke even more. "You’re busy with work and your own love life, who am I to bother you with my problems?" Tears blur my vision and stain my glasses, rolling uncomfortably down the bridge of my nose. "Isn’t that what growing up is about?" I whisper, staring lifelessly down at my untouched tea. "Learning how to depend on yourself?"

"Riley, I don’t care if you’re fucking 80." Sehun barks, scaring me until he opens his arms, forgiveness swirling in his softened brown eyes. "You can come to me for anything."

"O-Okay," I mumble, hiding in his chest.

"Do you hear me?"

"Yes."

"I don’t care if you shave your relaxed hair, adopt a cat, or the world is on fire." He proclaims sternly. "No matter what, you can always come to me."

The comforting smell of fresh laundry on his clothes has my shoulders relaxing, my sobs quieting down to small hiccups. "Okay."

"Good. Now take these sweaters back."

His words take a few moments to register in my sluggish mind. "Huh?" I blink, lifting my head off of him, sitting up fully and immediately recognizing the bundle of clothes in Luhan’s hands. "No," I shake my head, ignoring how dizzy I suddenly feel. "Sehun, those are yours-"

"And I want you to have them."

"I-" My heart constricts in conflict, "But-"

"But nothing. You act like I don’t know that your ass gets cold." He mutters grumpily, crossing his arms. "Keep them, alright?" Being the observant guy that he is, he picks up on my weary glance at Luhan. "Lu chipped in some of his too."

"Mine are comfier," His boyfriend jokes, smiling cheekily.

"Yah."

"You know it’s the truth."

"Only because you—yah! Why are you crying now?!"

"I just…" I sniffle, laughing softly. "I love you guys."

Luhan’s smile brightens while I whine over Sehun messing up my hair. "We love you more."

•••

May passes by in the blink of an eye, mature plants welcoming the upcoming summer heat. I love and hate this for two reasons. One, it’s a certain someone-who-shall-not-be-named birth month. Two, the dance competition is two weeks away. Two weeks. It is literally May 20th and I am sweating my hair out over it.

Why did I agree to this forsaken competition again? Oh right—I decided that a two-step routine is the equivalent of a love triangle. Nice going, Riley.

I sigh, wiping my forehead with the back of my arm. Two weeks until the competition means that my schedule is more packed. Yeah Park’s Publishing may be on an "easy going" break from publishing books right now, but I’m not getting a breather.

Nope, the moment I jokingly told Jongin how I didn’t know what to do with all my free time, he brought up daily dance practice—no, he down right demanded it. And when I started to complain:

"What? It’s not like you have anything else better to do."

I’ve been seething over that for a week.

Huffing at the memory, I plop my bag not-so-subtly on a chair before looking at Jongin on the other side of the room.

"Glaring at me won’t help you perfect the choreo faster-"

"Suck my dick."

"Oh, baby," He grins, raising a brow. "I would if I could." He saunters his way over to me, his beautiful bronze skin already glowing in a thin sheen of sweat when he leans down to face me, "but I don’t mind either way."

I push him away with a hard roll of my eyes, "Let’s get this over with."

"Feisty," He humors. "Someone is feeling better today."

"Better enough to kick your ass," I mutter, tying up my hair in a messy bun.

"Let’s rehearse the second verse," He takes a swing of his water bottle, a serious expression on his features. "Then we’ll talk."

"Bring it on," I lift my chin, playing tough despite the nervousness washing over me.

He nods, grabbing the stereo remote and getting into position. "Show me what you got."

We go over the steps one last time before we begin. The first half of the choreo goes smoothly… and then I stumble the moment the second chorus hits.

"Let’s take a break."

"No," I shake my head, resting my hands on my knees.

"Riley."

"One more time." I pant, trying to catch my breath. "I swear I got it, just-"

"We’ve been at it for 30 minutes."

"But-"

"Break. Now."

I flop to the floor in a tired heap, groaning loudly to annoy him. I’m grateful he called for a break though, my flat feet are crying for mercy like no one’s business. Maybe I should—"Ah," I sigh in relief.

"What are you doing?"

"Taking off my shoes," I mumble, throwing him a look over my shoulder, not liking his attitude. "My feet are dying over here."

Jongin raises a brow, leaning against the mirror on the other side of the room. "Your parents didn’t see a pediatrician about that?"

"Nope."

"Why?"

"Born and raised in America," I chirp. "The land of the free, Mother fucka."

Both his brows shoot up. "Are you feverous?"

"No," I mumble, fiddling with a loose string on my shirt. "It’s really hot out."

"Have you been sleeping?" His eyes narrow at my lack of response. "Riley?"

"Oh would you look at that, the ceiling tiles have a noticeable gap between them-"

"Sit down."

"I’m fine." I sigh, reluctantly dragging myself over to the only chair in the room.

"You won’t be if you keep this up." He points out, more than a little peeved. "Have you been drinking enough?"

"I-"

He thrusts his water bottle in front of me. "Drink this."

"But you drank from it!"

"I’ll give you mouth to mouth too if you don’t sit your ass down."

I blink, giving him a long, wide-eyed stare. "Why so serious?" The fed up expression on his face is enough of an answer. "Okay—okay! Fine." Inspecting the bottle for anything floating around on the bottom, I tilt my head back to pour some water in my mouth, mumbling with stuffed cheeks, "There, happy?"

Jongin just sighs, turning on a rotating fan. "Stay here. I don’t want you moving until you finish that bottle."

"Sir yes sir," I mutter, giving a little salute. Grinning when he glares sternly at me. He sighs before going back to the other side of the room.

Watching him practice his solo parts in the mirror, I leisurely sip from the bottle, noticing how his shirt sticks to his fit body. Jongin is tall, a bit broad, and lean. He has a dancer’s body and muscle in all the right places—I can’t imagine his diet. I shiver at the thought of it, checking my forehead. I’m not picky about fitness; I’m a bit on the curvy side myself. I rather have something to sink my fingers into. Speaking of which...

"Hey, Jongin?" I call him tentatively, continuing when he hums. "Why… Why did you make a choreo with me in mind?"

He doesn’t respond for a minute, and I wonder if he will until he goes over to retrieve something from his bag. "I always wanted to dance with you," He admits, throwing a towel around his neck. "To know what it was like to view your beauty up close." He bends his knee, bracing his foot against the wall as my eyes widen. "The way you move, twirl around, and glide across the floor. The blissed out expression on your face… You are at home on the dancefloor, and it shows." He looks up at me then. "You shine brighter than a million stars."

I forget how to breathe for a moment, staring at him with wide eyes and a racing heart.

"I’ve never been envious of Baekhyun but..." His sultry eyes meet mine again. "When it comes to you, it’s hard to fight my jealousy."

My lips part a few times, endless questions dying on the tip of my tongue. Realizing I’m gaping like a fish out of water, I settle for looking down with a hot blush.

Jongin chuckles, tossing his towel onto his bag. "Come on," He pushes off of the wall, walking over to me and taking me by the hand. "Let’s finish up for today."

"I can stand up on my own, you know?" I grumble. "...Thank you."

He just smiles before we take our positions in the middle of the room.

We take it from the top again, soaring through the routine without a hiccup. I put all my energy into not missing a step, dancing beside and around him with ease—

"Stop."

"What?" I blink, turning around to him. "What’s wrong now?"

"That."

"What?" I repeat, my eyes narrowing.

"That." He emphasises, gesturing to me. "You’re too tense. You need to relax."

"How do you expect me to relax, Jongin?" I mumble heatedly, hurt swelling inside of my chest. "I broke up with the love of my life. I had a shitty week. I can barely do the second verse of the choreo without breaking my ankles-"

"You can’t relax," He speaks up, suddenly standing in front of me. Staring into my eyes with his determined ones. "Because you don’t want to."

"I-"

"You fear what will happen if you do." He continues, holding me captive with his piercing gaze. "You fear the unknown."

"D-Don’t I have the right to...?" I hush, feeling my heart race the longer I look into his observant brown eyes. A part of me hates it; being read like an open book. My vulnerabilities and weak points on display without me wanting them to be. But this is Jongin.

He stares deep into my eyes, his minty breath washing over my cheeks. "Not on my watch."

There’s nothing to fear.

He selects a song for the stereo to play, and the moment a certain afrobeat instrumental plays through its speakers, I feel the urge to move my body deep in my soul.

"Let go," He encourages, turning around to meet my eyes in the reflection of the mirror.

Woman

Let me be your woman

Woman, woman, woman

I can be your woman

Woman, woman, woman

I’m intimidated by my reflection in the mirror. The sight of me with messy hair, dewy skin, baggy clothes, and my bare feet makes me feel like the wildest looking woman in the world… until I see the sadness and fear visible in my own eyes.

Let me be your woman

Woman, woman, woman

I can be your woman

Woman, woman, woman

Slowly, I move my hips to the beat, getting a feel for it while watching myself in the mirror. My awkward posture makes me tsk, shifting into a more flattering and stable position.

What you need?

She give tenfold, come here, papa, plant your seed

She can grow it from her womb, a family

Provide lovin' overlooked and unappreciated, you see (Yeah)

The lyrics… A sense of empowerment washes over me in waves, motivating the swirl of my hips and the smile forming on my lips. The melody of the song begins to seep into my very bones, warming me up from the inside out.

You can reciprocate

I got delicious taste, you need a woman's touch in your place

Just protect her and keep her safe

Baby, worship my hips and waist

So feminine with grace

I touch your soul when you hear me say, "Boy"

Let me be your woman

Winding my waist feels like the most natural thing in the world, circling my wrists while bringing my hands back down to my sides. I can see Jongin’s proud smile from the corner of my eye.

My movements get more energetic as the chorus plays again, the repetitive lyrics flowing like the blood in my veins, felt deep in my very being. Hitting me on a level that very few things ever could.

I glide across the floor when the second verse begins, letting my hair loose and throwing my weight around. The soreness of my waist only makes me shimmer harder, fighting against the aches trying to hold me back—against the chains locked in my mind.

Princess or queen, tomboy or king (Yeah)

You've heard a lot, you've never seen (Nah)

Mother Earth, Mother Mary rise to the top

Divine feminine, I'm feminine (Why?)

Throwing my hands up, I smile as Jongin starts complimenting my movements, playing a smooth rhythmic cat and mouse game with him all over the dance studio. My bare feet on the wooden floor propels me forward, making me feel more connected with the Earth around me, with the woman I want to be.

I’ve caught up to him by the time the song ends, breathing heavily with giddiness pumping in my veins. For the first time in months, maybe even years, I feel like me again—I’ve found myself again.

A hand tucking hair behind my ear has my eyes snapping up to Jongin’s, the adoring expression in his chestnut brown eyes making me feel small and appreciated at the same time. He cradles my face in the palm of his hand, rubbing his thumb over the apple of my cheek. Tingles erupt on my skin; my heart swells with something I haven’t felt in a long time when he starts to lean in.

"You were out fucking Jongin."

I flinch away, pressing my back to the wall, my heart in my throat. "I-I," I look away, hot embarrassment painting my face red. "I don’t want to make you a rebound." A thought occurs to me at that moment: how much taller and stronger Jongin is than me. The consequence of my actions. The vacant practice room. Fearing the worst, I hold my breath, squeezing my eyes shut.

Nothing happens for a while, the silence dragging on for so long that I start to grow lightheaded, cursing myself for agreeing to all of this in the first place.

Are you happy?

I pause, thinking hard for a moment. Despite the rain cloud constantly hanging over my head, I am doing something that I love. Regardless of me looking like pure shit, Jongin sees a light in me. And against all the fucking odds, I… I feel liberated. I feel free.

With that, I open my eyes, staring fearlessly at the man in front of me.

To my surprise, Jongin smiles. "I don’t want to overstep my boundaries," He mumbles, resting his forehead on mine.

A smile breaks out on my face, putting my secret dimples on full display.

It’s finally D Day—the dance competition is just about to begin, and I can’t for the life of me find my bracelet.

"Do you really need that?" Jongin carefully ruffles his styled hair, squinting with one eye over at me.

"It’s for luck," I justify, searching both our bags.

"You depend on a silly little bracelet to give you luck?"

"My grandma made it for me," I snap, my blood pressure skyrocketing.

"Okay, okay—you," He gently takes me by the shoulders, directing me to his chair. "Sit. I’ll find it."

Finding that all-too-familiar 'no nonsense’ expression on his face, I sigh, carefully covering my eyes with my hand. Both of us got our makeup done for today. He’s got on a golden glimmer of eyeshadow to bring out the sultry brown of his eyes, and I’m rocking a burgundy shade that makes my eyes have their own sensual glare in the mirror.

Tucking my hair-sprayed hair behind my ear, I wince at the thought of washing it out later, but the end result is worth it. My brown hair is bone-straight, complementing Jongin’s lavender-gray, middle-parted hair. Not gonna lie, he’s a total eye-candy right now in that red jacket and mesh shirt, and his stage presence is to die for. His oozing confidence just pumps me up even more.

Watching him pull out my bracelet from some hidden department that I have never seen before in my life and come over to strap it onto my wrist with the gentlest touch has newfound hope blossoming in my heart. We came to perform and we came to perform well.

As if hearing my thoughts, Jongin looks up at me at that moment, nodding firmly.

I nod right back, smiling softly. Win or lose, we are going to give it our all.

We make our way out of the dressing room, listening for our cue from the staff member next to the gap leading out onto the stage. They give directions to someone in their headset before giving us the signal.

I can hear the crowd as we step onto the stage, vibrating the floor under us and my whole being with their excited cheers. Nerves aren't pumping furiously through my veins. No, pure adrenaline guides me forward, and the reassuring smile Jongin sends my way makes me at ease all the more.

When the lights dim and the music starts, my hands are already in my hair, my hips popping to the beat.

Just let it flow as it is for me.

As it moves, show me.

I slide down into a crouch, spreading my knees before rolling my neck to the beat. Quickly standing back up, I slowly run my hands through my hair, swaying my hips side to side. I stop moving to let the crowd focus on Jongin, watching him with a smile.

The party has been getting boring.

Jongin starts doing his own thing while I beckon him closer with a body roll, strutting to him on the other side of the stage. I strike a different pose along to the beat, rubbing my hands over my body and rolling my hips.

Don’t hide it anymore for me

Sliding my hand down my chest, we lock eyes before the chorus hits.

The reason that hides your heart

Do you feel it triggering me a bit?

Here comes the fun part; we sync up our dance moves. Shooting each other little smiles while staying on beat. My long hair sways in the wind; the feeling of being free—free to be me striking me with a sense of comfort in this moment. Jongin catches my eye as if he feels it as well, his killer smirk morphing into a heartwarming smile.

Baby don’t play with me

I slow down to sway my hips to the beat while Jongin slides behind me, pressing his firm chest to my back. The ripples of his abs brush against me through the fabric of his mesh-shirt, warming my sun-kissed skin under the light heat of the partially cloudy sky. His hand tucks under my chin when I face him for the next lyric, "You’re my VIP."

(She talkin’ about)

We sync up again for the next part of the choreography, making me giggle in delight, beaming over the fact that I might have cried a hundred times practicing this choreo but I can finally say that I can dance it without breaking my ankles. And the proud smile on Jongin’s face adds onto that fact.

He points out to the crowd and we change positions as the pre chorus starts again. Jongin acts like the cool, smooth man that he is while I roll my way back to him, matching his moves before blowing a kiss to the crowd when the chorus kicks back in again.

Top down ya

It could be you and me, it could be you and me

I place my hand on Jongin’s shoulder, strutting around him while he shrugs off his jacket. Preparing for the bridge that we changed last minute. Now it’s his time to shine.

Now let me give you what you want tonight

You told me

I take a step back, focusing on complimenting his movements while he has his moment to woo the crowd. Those charming smirks and attractive smiles can steal the heart of anyone, especially the cheering people standing in the front row. There’s a lot of things I’ve learned recently about Jongin, and his unmistakable stage presence is one of them.

The chorus comes back one final time and we go all out. Dancing until our feet ache and the wind picks up around us. The sweet smell of tteokbokki and summer breeze in the air brings another smile to my face. Jongin gets down on the floor while I kneel on one knee to straddle his lap, looking into his eyes with his finger tucked under my chin as the last lyrics of the song fades away.

There’s a long moment of silence, and then the crowd erupts into cheers. Applauding so loud it overwhelms my sensitive ears. Jongin and I step forward to take one last bow, smiling at each other before making our way off stage… but a certain, persistent stare has my eyes flickering back to the crowd. The glimmer of silver hair in the front row is all I allow myself to see before hurrying to leave.

"That was," I start, gasping for breath by the time we reach the dressing room. "Fucking amazing!"

Jongin smiles, glancing over at me, "You liked it, huh?"

"Dude—I fucking lived for it!"

He laughs and it’s super cute, especially with his wide smile.

"That was so cool," I sigh, flopping down onto the couch.

Jongin raises a brow, a smile still on his plump lips. "Would you do it again?-"

"Hell no!" I squeak. "Well… Not unless it’s with you." His eyes dance under the painfully bright lights. "Stop smirking, I take it back."

"Don’t worry." He chuckles, crossing his arms as he leans back against the vanity table. "You’ll be the first one I call next time too."

We’re called back up onto the stage before I can reply, but the smile I beam his way speaks volumes. However, nerves are plaguing my mind this time around. There’s no mistaking the silver hair that I saw in the crowd.

Just as I thought, when we are standing next to the other contestants, there he is. Front and center. I close my eyes with a deep sigh. What the fuck, man? Why are you everywhere?! Can I catch a break from him please? Please?!

Tension builds in my body, but then something cracks.

You know what—

I clench my fists. Fuck him. It doesn’t matter if he’s here or not; he’s no longer a part of my life. Why should I care?

My eyes don’t stray far from the judge and Jongin, even with the constant itch of Baekhyun’s stare. Take a picture, it’ll last longer, asshole.

The minutes seem to drag on as the judge gives his big speech, listing the criterias and rubric for calculating the winner. A whole lot of gibberish that I have no interest in listening to; I hope Jongin is paying attention. The knowing look he gives me when we briefly make eye contact confirms it. Yep, I smile sheepishly. Sorry.

That damn ticklish sensation on my skin still hasn’t moved while the couple in 3rd place steps forward to receive their reward. I swear to the heavens, Byun Baekhyun—

Snapping my neck around, I glare right at him despite my heart dropping at the sight.

He stands in the front row, sticking out like a sore thumb from the rest of the crowd in his black hoodie and dark jeans. The only thing that makes him pop is his ever-silver hair… and the bouquet of flowers in his hand.

My heart races. Are those—

"And the winner is: Jongin and Riley!"

The crowd roars in excitement, everyone standing up to applaud us as the judge hands Jongin the trophy and a helper places a ribbon around my shoulders. I can’t help but beam at Jongin, both of us smiling wide enough for our mouths to hurt later, but I don’t worry about that now. This is our moment. I throw my arms around him, laughing loudly when he sets down the trophy to spin me around in the air.

"We did it!" I wrap my arm carefully around his neck, pumping my fist in the air.

Jongin sets me back down, keeping his arms loosely around my waist. "You," He plants a kiss on the top of my head, "did it."

I can’t erase the smile on my face or the glee in my heart even if I tried. My eyes glance back out at the crowd while he goes around congratulating the other contestants, immediately locking onto those soul-sucking, puppy brown eyes. Half a year later and his eyes never fail to make me feel nothing and everything all at once. But I won’t let that define me: I’m not Baekhyun’s woman anymore.

Spectators in the crowd around him are buzzing with energy, dancing to the outro music they are playing overhead while he continues to stand stock-still, his brown eyes focused on me.

My mind drifts for a second, imagining what it would have been like to be standing up on this stage with him, winning the competition with him by my side. I acknowledge it, let my mind have its little reminiscing moment—and then nip it right in the bud.

I don’t want to live a life of 'What ifs?’ anymore—I want to experience those 'Why nots?’ instead.

I sense Jongin before he steps closer, his chest brushing against the back of my arm. "Are you ready to go?" He asks, his lips grazing my ear.

I continue to lock eyes with Baekhyun, laughing inwardly at the unreadable expression on his face and the lack of a sparkle in his eyes. And when that tall raven from months ago runs to pull him into a hug, my gaze doesn’t waver from his in the slightest. "Yes." I turn my back on him and rest my hand on Jongin’s bicep with a swirl of my hips, peeking at him from under my eyelashes.

He smiles down at me, understanding dawning in his eyes. We link our arms together while walking backstage and out of the stadium.

•⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 P(1) P(2) | Part 4 P(1) P(2) | Part 5 P(1) P(2) | Part 6 P(1) P(2) —– P(3) P(4) —– P(5) P(6) ✓ ||| ♬♩♪♩ FINALE P(1) P(2)

A/N: Team Jongin or Team Baekhyun? After that dance practice scene, my heart is stuck somewhere in between 💔

Hiya! Long time no see (^-^)

I don't have much to say ahh (>.<) my brain is fried. The emotions in this chapter came from a week of sleepless nights and a marathon of Doja Cat's Planet Her <3 I still got 10 scenes to finish up before Six Phases will be completed. This isn't the end! Just the best cliffhanger I could do with a 100+ page doc (thanks to my nearsightedness. font-size 16 is a lifesaver)

I might suddenly drop the Finale out of nowhere :'D everything depends on Riley~

Thank you so much for reading and supporting this story!! 🥺🥰🌸💗 Writing this baby (haha) is my favorite thing to do and to share it with all of you means the world to me <333 Alright, I'll stop being mushy. Have a great weekend, lovelies! See you as soon as the Finale is done~

Happy two years of Un Village & city lights!!

youtube

Thank you endless Baekhyunee for inspiring me. I wouldn't be here without you ❤️

#baekhyun angst #baekhyun romance #baekhyun fanfiction #bbh-net #baekhyun #Team J or Team B?#Six Phases

37 notes · View notes

brilliant-poses · 3 years ago

Text

The Night of the Coyotes

When Dutch Van Der Linde first began to expand his gang, a group of bounty hunters rose to stop a lot of gangs from becoming too big and powerful. The bounty hunters were a successful group, but the Van Der Linde’s and the O’Driscoll’s kept avoiding the rope. You are apart of the bounty hunting group, the Coyotes. You and your older sister, Pride, have been in the group since you were children. Now, you’re faced with the challenges of hunting down each member. When things get out of hand, do you stay loyal or decide a different life?

Chapter 1 - Pride and Joy

══════════════════

Her grip your hand tightened, pulling you behind her. Your little feet hit the dirt and your tears made it hard to see anything. The moon wasn’t helping either

“Pride, I’m scared!” You cried in your pitiful little voice, causing her to yank you closer.

“Come on, come on! It’s ok… I’m with you, I’m with you!” She said, hearing the sound of yelling behind you two. She covered your ears, not wanting you to hear the horrible sounds of your father screaming after you. There was the sound of a gun going off, the bullet hitting the tree next to them.

“You bitches keep running! I’ll find you! I’ll find you and put a bullet in ya!” He yelled, still firing more bullets. You let out a yell of fear, noticing how she picked you up this time. She ran faster than you, her legs taking her further. She huffed for air, the sound of your father fading in the distance. Pride’s feet continued to hit the dirt hard, not stopping until she saw the lights of Blackwater come into view. You held onto her tightly, the brown shirt she wore was clutched in your little hands. She panted heavily, still hurrying. She couldn’t stop, even when people tried to stop her and see what’s wrong. She hit someone, holding onto you tighter as she fell back.

“Oh! Oh my, are you two alright?” The woman asked, noticing how you and her both laid on the ground. You looked towards the woman, seeing her nice dress and a feathered hat covering her face from the lights.

“Come on, we’ll get you two to a doctor. Brigit! Help me!” The woman called, gently lifting you up. You stared at Pride, watching as she was lifted up by a red haired woman, who cursed at how heavy she was. You started to feel your vision going black and you pass out.

══════════════════

“Wake up, already!” You feel a slap to your face, causing you to jolt.

“I’m up, I’m up…” You mumbled, glancing up from your bedroll to see Pride smoking a cigarette. She took a deep inhale and exhaled after a moment, the smoke flying towards the sky. You lifted yourself up, exhaling with relief. Just a dream… Well, more of a memory. That was years ago, you and Pride were stronger and more resilient than you had been when you were younger. You were currently eighteen and Pride was twenty-three. Escaping from your family home was thirteen years ago, so you were surprised that those memories were coming back. You rubbed your face, standing after a moment. The opened tent was letting the humid air in, the sun was already in the sky.

“You were yelling in your sleep.” She said, exhaling more smoke. She threw it down and stomped it out. You pushed your hair out of your face and glanced up towards your sister, seeing her adjust her hat. Her long black hair was braided and moved against her back, bouncing against the dark blue shirt as she looked down to roll up her sleeves. You popped your neck and adjusted your own shirt, causing the light green material to shake and let dirt fall off of it.

“Had that dream about pa.” You admitted, which made her scoff.

“Stupid bastard… I’ll find his neck broke by the rope one day.” She said and looked towards you. She was taller than you, her build more muscular due to her being your bounty hunter family’s work horse. She was your brawn, while you were her brains. Pride noticed you beginning to get lost in thought, she hit you over the head, causing you to jolt a bit.

“Let’s go see what Vivian wants. The only reason I’m here is to make sure you actually got up to see her.” She said, putting her hand on the back of your neck and helped moved your towards the large tent. Vivian was the woman who saved you and Pride, keeping you safe within her bounty hunter lifestyle. She’s the one who helped shape who you two are.

“Madam.” You greeted, seeing the woman look over from her spot at her desk. She turned back to her mirror to fix her make up, humming as a greeting. The woman was older, probably in her late fifties. She didn’t seem to let that be a hindrance on her. Her chestnut hair was greying in places, like on her temples, but the large scar over her left eye proved her to be more than just a fragile old woman. The scar started above the edge of her eyebrow and ran down to her cheek. Another smaller one cut across the scar on the bottom, getting close to the top of her lip.She still had sight in the eye, but the intimidation she had with the scar didn’t take away from the fact she could still see.

“My, my… It’s Pride and Joy. Good to see you.” She said, using her nickname for you. You smiled softly, shrugging lightly.

“Are you two interested in going out for a information hunt?” She asked, causing you to look at Pride and get excited. You two hadn’t been out of camp in weeks, having to protect everyone and everything you had. After last month in Arizona, it was better that way. Pride was quick to join in, smiling wide and nodding quickly.

“Hell yeah! What information are we gathering?” You grinned, lightly leaning against the tent pole. Vivian stood, her dark brown eyes staring at you and Pride, watching you two as she left the tent. She began to walk towards the edge of the lake, beginning to light a cigarette. You and Pride followed behind her, Pride crossing her arms while your hands rested on your hips. You watched as she took a long drag of her cigarette before exhaling, allowing the smoke to ease into the air.

“Van Der Linde was spotted.” She said, causing Pride to tense a little before shaking it off to listen.

“Now, I know that his little gang is getting stronger, but that matters not. You two are going to find out where they could be.” She said, looking towards you two. You glanced towards Pride, watching her cross her arms.

“Why can’t we just go yelling at night? That scared ‘em last time.” She said, obviously a bit more reluctant to go now that Van Der Linde’s gang was mentioned. Vivian has been after Dutch Van Der Linde since she first brought you two in. You watched a lot of good sisters die from their sharp shooters, especially by Arthur Morgan. Pride and Morgan were like mortal enemies. They were faithful through and through, both could kill one another just to protect their families. You knew if Van Der Linde had been spotted, Morgan wasn’t far behind. For you, there was no enemy. You had no qualms against a certain one except for Dutch, the one who allowed them to kill your sisters whenever they were just doing what was best for everyone. You could tell Pride’s reluctance, especially with you involved. She didn’t like you being around any type of trouble with them. Sure, you had captured and killed men and women before, but never a Van Der Linde gang member. Pride was once the only one left from an encounter with them, her playing dead as the gang ran off. You all had to bury five sisters, which was a lot considering your small family. The Good Lady Vivian Andrew cursed him and swore to bring him in herself, but she needed her little ones to be her eyes. You could see Vivian getting a bit agitated by Pride’s question and reluctance, but she kept a level head.

“Pride… You of all people know how dangerous they are. If you see them, you leave. You just ask people around town, it won’t be that bad. Blackwater is a good place.” She explained, turning to look at them. Pride still looked unconvinced, shaking her head as she tried to pull together why they should avoid any potential contact. You knew this would only run in circles, so you had to do something.

“We’ll go, Madam.” You said quickly, not allowing Pride to argue more. Pride hissed your name in a sort of irritated manor, but she straightened up when Vivian smiled.

“Good… Now, put on your coats and head out. Blackwater isn’t too far, so I suggest you spend as much time there as possible. The shops will be your best bet, especially the butcher.” She informed, tossing the cigarette onto the ground and stomping it out. She began to walk back towards her tent, but stopped.

“Also, ask the others if they need something.” She turned to tell them before going back into her tent, pulling the tent flaps closed so she’d have some privacy. There was silence before Pride spat onto the ground, obviously irritated.

“Go ask around, my ass… If she wasn’t as strong as she was, I’d swing her with her long ass rat hair.” She scoffed, which made you stifle a laugh. Your sister was so dramatic, she’s been that way ever since you were kids. She looked towards her and couldn’t help the chuckle that fell from her lips. She nudged you and motioned for you to follow.

“Come on, we gotta see what the others want.” She said, causing you to nod. You fixed your hair once more, blowing away a small piece that fell in front of your face and hurried after your sister. Thus began the task of figuring out if you had an information hunt or a shopping list to follow.

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 oc #red dead redemption 2 x reader #red dead redemption 2 oc #reader insert

23 notes · View notes

quickspinner · 4 years ago

Text

A for Effort

Written for the @lovebugs-and-snakecharmers Sprint Challenge. This week’s challenge was a round robin, and I got to write with @sapphicmarinette and @ladycat1!

Our prompt was Ladybug Juleka and Black Cat Luka are superheroes who keep having to rescue their respective pink damsels in distress...but I read it completely wrong and I was the first sprinter, so we have Black Cat Juleka and Ladybug Luka instead! We had to take a little extra time to do this because after our allotted 3 sprints we had the first half of a chapter of a multipart epic, so we had to do some last minute brainstorming to reign it in....but I really hope one of us chooses to expand on it further because it’s such a fascinating idea!

Thanks for writing with me friends!

Luka and Juleka trooped into their room, one after the other, and both of them flopped on their beds with identical groans of exhaustion.

“When we find Hawkmoth,” Juleka mumbled, “I get first dibs.”

Luka snorted, but for once, didn’t rise to the bait of their typical post-battle debate. “I can’t believe you did that.”

Juleka frowned. “If I hadn’t jumped in front of it, that blast would have—”

“No, not that,” Luka interrupted, and then sat up and flopped in the other direction on his bed so that he could look across at her. Juleka looked over and knew the smirk on his face was trouble. She started turning red, and Luka laughed. “See, you know exactly what I mean,” he chortled, flopping onto his back. Juleka glared at Plagg, who was snickering from his perch on her foot.

The kwami’s only response to her glare was to shove more of his disgusting cheese in his mouth. Juleka groaned, and pulled a pillow over her face. “I can’t believe I did that either,” she muttered.

“You kissed her hand .” Luka grinned, handing a giggling Tikki another cookie. “You swept her up in your arms, carried her to safety, and then you got all up in her face—”

Juleka folded her arms over the pillow and screamed.

“I’m dying to know what you said,” Luka added.

“NO,” she barked, and he chuckled.

“And then you took her hand and you—”

“What about you?” Juleka said suddenly, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and sitting up, hurling the pillow at him all in one smooth motion that he had to admire.

Until her words hit him. “What?”

Juleka smirked. “ She was there again too.”

Luka’s ears went red, and Juleka smirked wider. “Is that why you tripped over that fire extinguisher?” Juleka asked innocently, and cackled when he threw the pillow back at her.

“I really hope she didn’t see that,” Luka muttered, slapping his hands over his face and dropping back on the bed. “I just wasn’t expecting to see her there!”

“Especially not wearing that outfit,” Juleka snickered.

“Oh my God,” Luka groaned. He definitely hadn’t expected to see her in that sweet little red and black spotted dress. “I thought I was going to die. Worst hero death ever.” He couldn’t help the goofy grin that wanted to tug at the corner of his mouth. “Just imagine if your little blonde pixie—”

“Her name is Rose .”

Luka rolled over to look at her. “Imagine if you showed up and Rose was wearing that dress, only in black and green.” He raised his eyebrows. “With kitty ears .”

Juleka blushed again, and sighed. “It’s a good thing we have practice today,” she muttered.

“Tell me about it,” Luka agreed. “I’m gonna be playing this out for days .” He frowned, and Juleka raised her eyebrows as his expression grew thoughtful. “There sure are a lot of akumas coming out of that school,” he said at last.

“Well, the mayor’s daughter does go there,” Juleka pointed out, rolling her eyes.

“True. I’m glad you didn’t end up going there. Still.” He shook his head slightly. “Maybe we should go over there sometime and...I dunno. Investigate.” He cringed slightly at the sound of himself. He was good at making plans in the moment, but when it came to the larger goal of capturing Hawkmoth over time, he felt pretty deficient.

Juleka pretended not to notice his insecurities. “It might be worth it, I guess,” she shrugged, and then gave him a sharp look. “And if we just so happen to run into a pretty blue-eyed, black-haired girl—”

“Or a blonde,” Luka grumbled, picking at the rips in his jeans.

“I don’t know if you’re a genius or an idiot,” Juleka muttered, and then sighed. “All right. I’m in.”

***

A few days later, Juleka texted him a flyer. Gaming Tournament 15/2, at Collège Françoise Dupont, students 13+ from other schools welcome! Luka had agreed that it was the perfect time to investigate. They’d have a reason to be there, and they’d be able to go as civilians, not Misterbug and Lady Violette. Going as superheroes would mean the public would be watching— Hawkmoth would be watching. There would be more breathing room as Juleka and Luka Couffaine.

On the inside, Collège Françoise Dupont seemed fine. The hallways were clean, the furniture was in good shape, and the adult who greeted them at the door seemed perfectly pleasant.

The gaming tournament was held in the library, with a big projector screen on one wall with rows and rows of audience chairs. The two gamers would sit on two separate seats near the front, with everybody watching them. Luka realized that he might not want to play a round, with all those strangers staring at him, but he signed up his name on the registration sheet anyway.

The room was dark to accommodate the bright screen, so Luka actually couldn’t distinguish the faces that were not directly in front of him. It made him feel more at ease, at least. “Have you seen Rose?” he asked.

“Not so loud,” Juleka hissed, socking him in the shoulder. Luka laughed good-naturedly, even though it hurt. “She could overhear you and then wonder how I know her name.”

“Hey, I just thought you wouldn’t want me to say ‘blonde pixie—’”

“Shut up,” Juleka replied with a huff. “Come on, let’s sit in the back.”

“Sure,” Luka agreed, deciding that he had filled his annoying sibling quota for the day already. He followed her into the back row, which was currently empty.

“Hey, that’s her,” Juleka said, and Luka followed her gaze to find Rose. Rose was talking animatedly to another student and holding a gaming controller. She must be going in the next round, which meant that Juleka would be distracted for the next ten minutes. Maybe now would be a good time to leave the room and scout around a bit.

“I’m gonna look around a bit,” he told Juleka, who nodded and gestured him off. He considered saying something along the lines of we’re not here just to watch pretty girls play video games but then decided against it. It was not like there was an akuma, after all. It was okay to let Juleka have fun for a night.

Luka slipped out into the hallway just before the next round started, letting out a sigh of relief the moment that he was on the other side of the door. The bustling atmosphere of the gaming room wasn’t a bad thing, per se, but he certainly lost his taste for it after a while. Especially since it was a room full of strangers.

After he took a moment to calm his breathing, he tried to think of what he should be investigating. How far could he wander and still be able to claim that it was to ‘look for the bathroom’? Maybe just this first floor, then.

“Can I help you find anything?”

He recognized that voice. Of course he recognized that voice.

Luka schooled his facial expression into something neutral and unaffected before he turned around. “I was just getting some air,” he told her. “Thank you, though.”

“I understand,” she said. It was a little surreal, seeing her in a quiet environment. There was no akuma threatening her or the rest of Paris. It was just the two of them in an empty hallway, and she had absolutely no idea who he was. “Sometimes it gets a bit too loud for me in there, too! Are you a student here? I’ve never seen you before.”

Luka only let it hurt his feelings a little bit. “No, I’m not,” he told her. “Um, we actually came because my sister was thinking of transferring here. Do you…do you like it here? Are the students nice?” The concept of Juleka transferring to this school was only a half-lie. On her worst days, when she’d come back from school with a clear air of frustration, she’d mutter about transferring somewhere better. Certainly never to Collège Françoise Dupont, though.

She lit up, as though it was the best question that she had ever been asked. He found himself proud that he had been the one to put that expression there. “Oh! Yes! I’d say that the majority of students here are super sweet! There are a few students who…struggle with manners, I suppose, but I think it’s dealt with well. I’ve also heard that there’s less drama in the other classes. I happen to have a few… conflicting personalities in mine. What’s your sister’s name? I should introduce myself.”

“Her name’s Juleka. She’s a little shy,” he said. He wondered about this class of hers. Was the mayor’s daughter in it, like Juleka suggested? How many of them made up the akumatizations? Luka debated the social etiquettes of it, and then asked, “What’s yours?”

“Oh! I’m Marinette.”

“Luka,” he introduced himself in return. Marinette. It was a pretty name for a pretty girl. “Well, I’m certainly honored to have met you, Marinette.”

Something about his words made her stumble, but she seemed to recover quickly. “Have I… have I met you before?” she asked.

Luka paused.

Yes. He wanted to say. You’ve met me in my superhero form. But he knew better.

“I’m...not sure.” he answered instead. “I don’t think so.”

Marinette shrugged, and wrapped a lock of her hair around her finger. “Oh, okay. For some odd reason, your face looked familiar,” she explained.

Satisfied with her answer, Luka nodded, then stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Are you playing in the tournament?” he decided to ask. Marinette’s face lit up once again, and Luka couldn’t help but suppress a tiny smile at how cute she was.

“Oh yes! I’ve actually loved to play video games since I was a little girl! Are you playing in the tournament?” she asked. Luka nodded in return.

“I’m not that great at gaming though. Not really anyone in my family. We’re more music-oriented.” he said.

“Music? Do you play any instruments?” Marinette asked, and Luka internally winced at how off-topic the conversation had gone. After all, he had come here to investigate the number of Hawkmoth akumatizations, not chat about instruments. Nevertheless, he answered.

“Yeah. I play the guitar—actually both Juleka and Ma do too.” He answered. Marinette nodded, an awkward silence falling over them.

Gesturing back to the hallway that led back to the library, Luka shuffled his feet a bit. “Well I should go back in there now,” he smiled, “Since the tournament is done, you know.” he said. Marinette chimed in a ‘me too’, and the two walked silently to the library. Parting ways at the doorway. Luka quickly paced to Juleka, who was still ogling at Rose, and tapped her on the shoulder.

“The game’s over, Jules. You don’t have to keep staring at her like that, y’know.” he said, rolling his eyes, and Juleka turned around and shot him an irritated look.

“You didn’t have to say that so loud, you know.” she mumbled, causing Luka to smile. “Anyways, see anything interesting while you were looking around?” she asked. Luka shrugged and shook his head.

“Not really. Met Marinette though,” he smiled, a grin appearing as he recited Marinette’s name.

“Who’s— oh.” the words dying in Juleka's throat, as she saw the dark-haired blue-eyed girl grab a game controller and a nametag with the name ‘Marinette’ on her.

“So that’s why you didn’t see anything worthy to investigate. You were distracted. ” Juleka smirked, and Luka gave her a look TM . “Anyways, this school seems pretty tame. The only thing that hints upon the reason for the number of akumatizations that happen here is the mayor’s daughter—Chloe Bourgeois. I heard a few kids talking about her here. A real big drama queen—and a huge school bully.” Juleka shrugged, and Luka nodded. That made a lot of sense. But it wouldn’t really help in the long run finding Hawkmoth. Perhaps Hawkmoth’s civilian identity was linked to some students at this school. Or maybe he worked here. That would be a valid reason for him targeting most students at this school.

Luka jerked suddenly as his name was called, and he turned around automatically. The organizer was standing at the front with a clipboard and—and Marinette was approaching him. Luka’s gaze snapped up to the board they had set up and saw his name across from Marinette’s.

Oh—

“I’m going to kill you slowly,” Luka said conversationally as Juleka began snickering behind him. “Tikki, what the hell happened to that whole ‘good luck’ schtick?”

There was a high-pitched but quiet giggle from his hood. “It all depends on your point of view, doesn’t it,” Tikki whispered as Luka made his way mechanically to the front.

He was going to have to play in front of all these people, and against her , and oh this was possibly the worst idea he’d ever had.

“Don’t worry,” Marinette smiled at him as he sat next to her. “I’ll go easy on you.” She winked, and smirked , and Luka was pretty sure his soul departed the building at that point.

His body, however, was still stuck there, and he tried to get his head in the literal game so he didn’t look like too much of a fool.

Marinette was really good, though. Luka had good reflexes and excellent hand-eye coordination, but damn . Some detached part of his brain noticed that Marinette was a tactical thinker, and he had to appreciate that. He wondered briefly what she would do with, say, the mouse miraculous, that they rarely used because it was physically weak but in the hands of someone like Marinette, it might really be—

He stared at the flashing screen dumbly for a moment before he realized that his thrashing was finally over. He mustered up a grin for Marinette and turned to congratulate her, and froze when she held her hand out to him.

He had never touched her without his suit in the way.

But if he didn’t, she would think he was a sore loser and—

Luka swallowed and shook her hand awkwardly. Her hand was tiny in his.

“Good game,” he managed to say, letting go of her as quickly as he could.

“You did pretty good!” Marinette smiled encouragingly. “Especially if you don’t play that regularly.” She made a face and Luka felt his own turning red. “Sorry you had to go up against me in the first round, though. Luck of the draw, I guess!”

“It’s all good, I was only playing for fun anyway,” Luka said, hoping he sounded, if not smooth, at least natural . “It was kind of a whim. Sometimes I just get these crazy ideas, and you know, why not?” He clenched his teeth against any more babble.

“It’s good to be spontaneous,” she said kindly, and Luka tried to think of a way to make a quick exit. He didn’t know why he ever thought it was a good idea to meet her in his civilian identity, she must think he was so lame—

Her head tilted slightly and she gave him that look again. “Are you sure we haven’t met before?” she said, scrutinizing his face, and Luka was suddenly looking at her lips and remembering how she’d kissed his cheek the last time he’d saved her and he needed to get out of there now .

“Uh...I mean well— you wouldn’t know!” Luka managed to stutter out, but then slammed his out shut, realizing what he had just said.

Idiot.

He had practically given himself away! Sweating nervously, Luka glanced around— anywhere but at Marinette’s face —to find an escape.

“Wait... what?” Marinette asked, bewildered. “What do you mean?” she asked, slowly, as realization struck on her face.

Crap! He felt a hard tug on the back of his hair and knew that Tikki was also freaking out back there in his hood. Ugh, he had to do something!

Luka fidgeted nervously, panic coursing through his veins. He silently prayed that somehow an akuma would appear so he could leave. Fortunately, luck was on his side as a bell rang through the school indicating that an akuma had appeared. Finally.

“I s-should really get going! Ma doesn’t like it when J-Jules and I stay out during akumas!” Luka rambled, running up to Juleka, and grabbed her hand. Marinette pulled a skeptical face as she saw Luka leave.

“What was that all about?” asked Juleka, as the two ran into an alleyway to transform.

God, he was so screwed.

#quickspins #collab fic #lbsc sprint fic #lukanette #endgame lukanette #lukanette endgame #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #miraculousladybug #miraculous ladybug

70 notes · View notes

vinylhazza · 4 years ago

Note

“i want to go home” and “let me go” with ethan 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 make it angsty i missed ur angst

you don’t want to fight with him. you weren’t the fighting type, but christ he can be insufferable sometimes. it hurt you to fight with him - no matter how much he deserved to have his ass handed to him on more than one occasion.

ethan is stubborn. often times brooding during your time together. you’ve known that since the first day you met him and watched with confused delite when he refused for you to pay for your own coffee only minutes after having small talk. he wasn’t the easiest to understand right off the bat that’s for sure. he’d talked of things far beyond your comprehension and spoke eloquently. he’d inserted his card into the chip reader with his brows turned down in a pout, dark hair a perfect mess atop his head, shoes shined, suit pressed. the corners of his mouth drooped to match his adorable pout, merely shaking his head briskly when you’d tried to pay him back. you’d known it to be a kind gesture, and he confirmed those thoughts by later slipping the small white receipt piece in your jacket pocket with seven messy digits drawn right next to a sloppy smiley face.

you still have that receipt in the top drawer of your nightstand. that spark...you remembered that first spark. thinking of him from that day on was habit, and often times more than you could handle. he’d captured a part of you before you’d even realized it. he had that effect on people.

you waited weeks until you’d texted him, too much of a chicken-shit to think he actually meant it as anything more than a kind gesture for listening to him drone on about marketing for at least a half an hour. to your surprise, he had texted back in minutes. from them on he’d made every attempt at scoring a date with you, and when he finally did - you had the best night of your life.

boy did the man have a personality. take that as you will.

if he so much as felt you were having an attitude, he’d refuse your kisses until you agreed to talk to him like a “big girl.” you knew from the moment he whipped his head to the side and shut his eyes, your body going still where you leaned across the table watching him pay bills or work on deadline work. not only did it make you want to fall into the floor and hope the foundation swallowed you up, but it forced you to talk - something you could never get him to do.

ethan only buys you the best of the best despite your objections. you figured that’s what love means to him in a way, giving your all even if it wasn't emotionally. you'd never had the guts to tell him you like to be held more than anything. he makes sure to never leave you unsatisfied in bed - especially if he noticed your legs weren’t shaking hard enough to his liking. tells you any story you want to hear if it means you’ll sleep peacefully. let’s you read your favorite books to him: his head in your lap, arms crossed over his chest in thought, pondering eyes on the ceiling. he’d stop you for explanations along the way. it was an adorable habit that you will love until the end of time. the fact that he wanted to hear your thoughts. you found yourself jotting down scribbles in the margins just to remember the moments exactly as they were: pure.

he tries to act hard, like the world is his slave and bends at his will, you know - oh you know just how soft his heart truly was. even if he was an arrogant ass 87% of the time. but he’s learning. how to be a boyfriend, how to be a man that doesn’t have to hide from vulnerability and emotion. he’s learning despite his discomfort.

ethan never wanted help when making the bed, no matter how many times you insisted and he always wanted to help you put your sunscreen on during summer and run your baths when you’ve had a long day. his work computer was shut off at seven sharp every night and shower always started at six in the morning. keys must be placed on their rightful hook and shoes on the mat. notepad must be placed on his side of the bed in case a thought wakes him in the night and he can’t go to sleep until he writes it down. all of which were non negotiable. he was stubborn, yes...but you loved him.

above all else there was love. so much love it consumed him deep in the pits of his body, mind and soul. even if he couldn’t, or much rather wouldn’t explain just how much you’d bewitched him...there was love.

he had a funny way of showing this love through obstacles and hoops you’d taken forever to jump through early on in your odd relationship. first it was friendship, a strange friendship at that. mostly consisting of calling each other randomly to ask what the person was thinking at that moment, which led to conversations of witches, wizards, and ghouls - children's tales and memories from the past that sprung free of the net. regardless if he meant for it to happen or not, that friendship blossomed into a whirlpool of admittances he would have damned himself for in the past:

“I wanted to see you”

“I hope you're okay”

“let me know when you get home safe”

“can you read that part again? I like the sound of your voice”

“I know you got that job, they’d be insane not to hire you”

“come over, I miss you”

“do you miss me too?”

“I thought of you today”

friendship turned into fire kindling in the pits of him

he wasn’t easy to trust others and you’d earned that trust fair and square. first through kindness, honesty, and a lot of self control. he wasn’t like every guy you’d been with in the past and you didn’t treat him like such. you’d been the only one to take your time and learn the inner workings of his mind and understand, not just engage or maintain his happiness. you’d expanded your craft in making him happy. giggling in bed at 3am, lovestruck, insanely, truly, madly, deeply happy. but demons don’t go away forever, and good behavior must be learned - especially with a life that has treated you unfairly.

you understood how troubled ethans mind could be at times and you tried to be patient. patient enough that when he looked over at you, he trusted that you’d listen to him even if he was being irritating and crude. the darkness swirling in his eyes didn't scare you off, not like the others. you chose to stay time and time again. not that you were a push over by any means but one must understand how hard it became sometimes, to be patient in times where he blocked out every voice, every noise, every reasonable answer and refused to listen. refused your help and your advice, gave you silence as a reward for thirty minutes of trying to make him smile. it was frustrating to be ignored.

there was a lesson you'd known to be true: no matter how many stars you wish on, how many pennies you drop into the well, nothing is ever as perfect as it seems.

you had told him more times than you could count on one hand: you weren’t his enemy. when it felt like the world was out to get him, like the sky was black and blue and he couldn’t see any light in the foreseeable future, you were there with a kind hand to lead him back. back to himself, reality, sanity. with the good came the bad and the constant back and forth it was taking it’s toll. if something didn’t change soon, he’d find that his light has left him in the clouds.

that’s how you found yourself sitting with your fingers fiddling in your lap, in the passenger seat of a car that you’d have to sell your soul to be able to afford, the hot air blowing through the vents and over your now trembling fingers, dress now more tight and uncomfortable than it seemed to be half an hour ago. you tried focusing on anything than the eery silence, save for the quiet music rolling through the speakers. it was easier than you’d thought to drown out the voices - you weren’t in the mindset to listen to someone else's problems. the many rings you wore now the main focal point for the agonizing hour drive back to your shared apartment.

it was a collection of pointless noise. pointless for the simple reason that the only sound you really wanted at the time was ethans voice. the low vibration that shot sparks straight to your stomach, the vibrato that sounded like home. anything to let you know he was okay, that he was working through his emotions instead of shutting them off.

“you okay?”

the last thing that had been said in over 30 minutes. you knew he was frustrated with himself by the white knuckled grip on the steering wheel, the way he drove at least ten over the speed limit, and the torturous strain of his taught jaw muscles, eyes shooting daggers at the road. he hadn’t given you an answer.

if you’d known Alec would be there, you never would have gone. you never thought in a million years you’d be seeing him again unless forced by the universe to punish you. punish you both. how often did you see your boyfriends ex bestfriend who happened to co-exist as the ex of your very own bestfriend? a person you’d both chosen to cut ties with for a multitude of reasons. for the better. a lying manipulating cheater that had no place in your life or anyone that you loved. the connection between the two had been a shock at first, but you were quick to warn ethan about the deceitful nature of his “friend.” you wondered how you’d never met ethan before considering that link but were thankful he decided to shoot his shot in the café not a block from your old apartment.

alec was...sneaky. not only had he betrayed you and your bestfriend, shown his true colors, but he’d also betrayed ethan - his closest companion for over a decade. it wasn’t long before he dropped the both of them like they were a virus he was glad to be rid of. it broke your heart to see them both grieve the man they thought they knew. from that day forward, you made it your mission to try and lessen that pain for the two of them in whatever way you could. you became the anchor to a ship gone rogue.

you’d been just as shocked as ethan to see him at the event. an event he wouldn’t have even been at, had it not been for ethan and his good word.

alec was part of the holding company, Rissito’s Publishing Co golden boy. a new top boss only thanks to ethans referral and promise that he’d “kill it.” HR ate it up. if only ethan had known beforehand the betrayal that would unleash after his hiring - he’d have stuck his foot in his mouth long before he told HR to give him a chance.

Alec was someone who gained respect without earning it first. someone who took advantage of a good friends kindness and used it for his own benefit, while leaving that same friend in the dust. he was a dispicable tyrant that had nothing better to do than ruin people to get ahead. no matter what cost.

he was someone who rarely showed his face at events that gave him no ego boost or feeling of supremacy.

you didn’t think your stomach would twist up at the the mere sight of his icy blonde air, unbelievable posture, and wicked grin. but it did. the few times you’d met him for your friend and for ethan...you’d felt the wind of something bad. “something wicked this way comes” right?

you’d been so stunned that you’d stopped in your tracks and let go of ethan’s hand altogether. the air stuck somewhere deep down in your chest, threatening to burst if you didn’t get as far away as you could. of course he would be here, he was invited to speak on behalf of the company. you quickly scolded yourself, reminded that this night wasn’t about you or alec no matter what past or resentment you held - it was about being there in support of ethan and his accomplishments.

alec had strolled up on stage draped with navy velvet curtains, right to a glass podium clear enough that you had to squint to see it just to “give his thanks and welcome” to the crowd of overdressed office workers. you wondered for a brief moment how strange he sounded when he spoke formally. like a robot coached to please. he’d used the same voice when he gaslighted your friend into thinking she was insane and needed help. really he was the lost boy. he spoke down to the group of people he now had authority over. people you knew he didn’t give two fucks about. he looked the same as you remembered - but if possible more sinister. he was the devil in the flesh and someone you knew could set ethan off in seconds. to your horror, your suspicions were true.

this was ethan’s night. at least to you and everyone that cared about him. a night he worked hard towards and quite frankly busted his ass to achieve. he deserved the silver platters, champagne, laughs with his co-workers, a pat on the back from his boss standing somewhere near the exit that you’d missed somehow on your way in. you knew it would be ruined if he let his anger get the best of him. you couldn’t stop his fuse igniting, and just when you thought you’d made it to the clear, that he’d been paying too much attention in trying to find snacks to satisfy his growling stomach - ethan froze beside you. statue still and glaring at alec. you were shocked alec didn’t drop dead from the look.

“i want to go home,” ethan had seethed immediately upon seeing Alec rise to the podium, grabbing your wrist tight with his fingers. too tight would describe his hold. much too tight. he all but ignored your grimace and look of confusion.

“we just got here ethan, you haven’t even received the award,” you had tried to reason with him. he was acting brash. impulsive and irrational. he’d be called to the stage any moment, an award he obviously no longer cared about. when ethan was set on a mission, he was rarely persuaded.

“i don’t give a fuck,” he growled lowly, turning to look at you with laser hot eyes, “i don’t want to be anywhere near that prick and honestly i don’t know why you would either, y/n.”

it stung to hear him spit your name through his clenched teeth, but you tried your best to ignore it.

you heard him. you did. but you also knew he’d regret walking out the door more than he thought at the time. for years all he’s wanted was the recognition that he’d get in just a few minutes - the praise you knew he yearned for. but he was hell bent on getting the hell away from he who must not be named.

“tonight isn’t about him. it’s about your amazing accomplishments. something you’ve earned and worked hard for. don’t let him take this away from you!” of course your words fell on deaf ears. he wasn’t in any position to negotiate.

“stop. talking,” he barked, nails digging into your delicate skin, marching through the crowd of concerned on-lookers.

“ethan stop...you’re hurting me. please stop and talk to me, we can go to the bathroom or something,” you begged, trying not to blush with all eyes set on the two of you. taking a quick glance around to the raised eyebrows and turned up lips you shook your head in embarrassment. you were mortified to be a part of such a scene.

you were embarassed to be causing such a scene at a prestigious event for one of the biggest publishing companies in the country. it caused your stomach to turn at the thought of ever having to face the crowd of people again. your office visits would be few and far between after this.

“baby please,” you whimpered pathetically, trying yet again to be a voice of reason. you figured a pet name would get through to him. hopefully to calm the storm crashing in his head, “stop and look at me.”

“all he’s ever done is fucking ruin things, y/n. don’t you agree? he caused you and i both havoc for MONTHS and you want to stand and listen to this fucking shit?” he barked, turning to look at you with daggers for eyes, “i’ll be damned if i stare at his cocky smirk all night long.” you worried his jaw might break from the strength of his clenching, but chose to keep your knit picking you yourself he’d grumbled one last “fucking dickhead.” before you’d flinched at the aching of your wrist.

being dragged through a crowd of people wasn’t exactly the easiest task when you could barely keep up with his strides on a daily basis, let alone when he was sprinting around tables set for a feast, elegantly dressed men and women, staff that bustled about, and security that eyed you both like a hawk - thankful for your hasty exit.

“let me go!” you cried with one final feeble attempt to reach him through his blind rage from just the sight of the man that had hurt you both deeply. you wretched your hand like a girl gone mad, ignoring the gasps of people much too prudish to ever sympathize with your situation - all they knew what judgment and riches.

guilt crashing through his wall of xxx only allowing him a horrified glance back at your pained expression, yanking his hand back and away from you without a word. he held his arm to his chest as if it pained him to touch you in any way but his usual soft caress.

you watched warily when he turned toward the open set of double doors, this time without grabbing you. you had half a mind not to follow him. but you weighed your options heavily: stay for no reason and get judged and ridiculed by a crowd of people that thought less of you than dirt and even worse, have to talk to alec? or run after ethan and hope for the best on the ride home? hanging your head, you gathered the bottom of your burgundy dress in your hands shyly as to not trip and humiliate yourself further, walking briskly towards the parking lot. you knew he’d be more than ashamed with himself for acting the way he had, disgusted with his failure to perceiver through a problem.

he’s lost control. ethan hated losing control.

isnt that exactly what alec would want? he would want to see ethan crumble before his eyes and the many eyes of people he’s meant to be composed and professional around. create a name for himself: not a good one.

he would want to see him act out and lose his sanity with resentment and hatred in front of the well respected business men and women he worked with daily. alec was far too narcissistic to admit to his wrongdoings, but had a way of making his victims seem crazy. it was the toxicity you’d dealt with for the entirety of your miserable relationship. you felt ill at the fact that ethan had to experience it. had to deal with it for the sake of his job.

he did hate him, more than he’d admit. but really what lied beneath the surface is something he’s only admitted to you once before when he’d had one too many shots. more than anything, alec caused him a great deal of pain. ethan was hurt by his late friend. he was hurt by the reckless behavior and betrayal. he was hurt that alec tried to take his job out from under him instead of being satisfied with what he had. he was hurt that he treated you no greater than a peasant. he was hurt that he’d thrown away years of friendship just to get ahead. more than anything, ethan was hurt. but of course he was too stubborn to say that to you, to anyone, maybe even too scared to admit it to himself.

pulling into the parking garage was in no way an experience you wanted to relive again. the silence pained you. the silence pained him too, and you know it whether or not he’d say so. your tears, silently falling right next to the man you’d normally run to, went unnoticed. the yellow-orange of the lights bounced off the hood of the car to illuminate your devestated expression. you couldn’t believe how the night had played out and how easy it had been for alec to get the best of you both. he had won. again. the thought made your stomach churn.

he was out of line tonight. he’s not only made an ass of himself in front of the head management of his company, but he’d had total disregard for his actions towards you - physical and verbal. tonight...he was someone you didn’t want to be around.

your wrist was red from where he’d grabbed you at the party, reminding you that ethan did need a serious wake up call. you’d done as much as you could to soothe him and you won’t be subject to his wrath.

when he finally turned into a parking spot and turned the car off, he finally did speak. but it was in no way what you wanted to hear.

“they’ll hold the award. i would have been on the stage speaking for a couple seconds before they moved on.”

despite your efforts, you scoffed at how abtuse he really was to the situation.

“i asked if you were okay. but you acted very not okay and i don’t know how to help you or even if i want to,” you told him earnestly, eyes glued to your lap.

“what does that even mean?” ethan snapped, running a hand through his hair.

you watched as a grey expedition passed in the side mirror before you chose to respond as calmly as you could.

“it was so easy for you to lose control.”

“i don’t stay in situations that hinder me or the people i care about.”

“oh so now you care about me?”

“that’s not fair, y/n,” he sighed, shaking his head and looking out his respective window.

“and this is?” you hold up your reddened wrist, just far enough that he couldn’t ignore the gesture and turned to look at you briefly.

“it wasn’t personal, i just get so...”

“angry. you were angry and i understand why you would be. al...he showed up out of nowhere and you don’t do well with surprises. but he is a part of that company now and maybe we both should have prepared ourselves before we stepped foot out of the apartment tonight. i didn’t deserve that and neither did anyone else at the event tonight.”

he opened his mouth to speak, another excuse your sure but you carried on while blinking back hot tears.

“you were impulsive and gave no mind to the way you treated me and how it must have looked to your boss who watched us leave not even 30 minutes after we arrived. how do you think you’ll feel in the morning when this is all you’ve wanted and you let him ruin it? you always said you were done letting people get the best of you.”

“he has a way of pissing me off and he’s just- he doesn’t care okay?! he sat up there and told lies, y/n. he doesn’t give a fuck about the job or the people or even all of the good we do and dreams we help make a reality. i...i should have been the one up there talking...” ah...so jealousy it was.

“ethan,” you laugh, not with humor but disbelief, “you know he’s as fake as they come. he doesn’t care like you do. you will have your time to shine and you would have tonight if you hadn’t ran away like a coward.”

“i don’t want to talk about this anymore,” he grumbled, opening the latch on the door in an attempt to get out and leave a conversation where he had to talk about how he felt.

“you can run all you want but one day these feelings will catch up with you and you’ll crash. you’ve opened up quite a bit with me over the past few months and i’ve noticed that change and i’ve been proud. more than anything i’m proud...but this has to stop,” you grab him by his bicep, forcing him to look at the tears that fell onto your cheek, ignoring the stiff silence without the aid of the radio and air conditioning, “you have to start believing in yourself like i do. who gives a fuck if he’s a man with five seconds of fame he didn’t even earn? you bust your ass every single day and you know it.”

his eyes shoot across your kind face, landing on your eyes that scream he’s sorry, he messed up, he wants to talk but doesn’t know what to say.

“no one can make you feel inferior without your permission remember?” you nod, trying your best to give him a smile. you suppose it looked more like a grimace.

“right,” he huffs, sucking in a breath like he’d been suffocating the entire ride home, and maybe he had. he’s pressing the palms of his hands flat against his eyes in an attempt to cover up whatever emotion threatened to expose him, “fuck him dude.”

“fuck him is right,” you chuckled dryly, flopping back against the leather back of the seat.

in the silence you waited. you must have been sitting together in the orange glow of the lights for thirty more minutes, the time passing slow. you watched him pull himself together, breathing even in an attempt to build up the nerve to talk once again.

finally he’d looked at you with those eyes you fell in love with. the hazel brightness that was a gate to who he truly was. a soft man with a traumatic story that wasn’t his fault. he fought hard for everything he had and he’d built a good life for himself. he was a different, better, man than he’d been the day he paid for your coffee without question. he was unsure of himself and self-conscious to the point he didn’t know what his purpose was. he’d bounced around from girl to girl, drank away his sadness...but you. you. you must have been his saint. his angel placed in his path for a reason. he couldn’t have felt shittier when he looked over at your wet cheeks and hair falling out of it’s elegant up-do.

you’d flinched at the feeling of his fingers trailing over the splotchy fingerprints on your wrist. this time, you welcomed the touch, staring at his hand tracing the damaged he’d caused. you tried not to bunch your dress up in your other hand.

“i hurt you.”

you nod slightly, not having the energy to respond with anything else.

“i embarassed you.”

another nod.

“i won’t do it again,” he whispered, fully ashamed of himself, “and i’ll...i’m gonna talk to Jeff on Monday. apologize for running off. i’ve never been that person and i acted before i could think straight. you were right. i earned this night and i shouldn’t have let him get to me so quickly. seeing him shouldn’t break me down. it was cowardice and i made an ass of us both and i’m sorry. i’ll try my best to make it right.”

smiling gently, you find yourself leaning over the console to kiss him on the apple of his cheek. his warmth shot sparks through your chest and stomach, something youre sure you’ll never get used to.

“we’ll figure this out together. that’s what we do. side by side. we figure shit out when it seems hopeless and when we look like idiots. it’s called being a team you dummy. thank you for apologizing. but...you know what i’d love?”

the light tone of your voice had him smiling in no time, his head rolling on his neck to look at you, head resting back against the seat.

“if i chilled the fuck out?” he teased with a grin.

“yes...but not what i was gonna say,” you continue smiling, raising his hand to kiss over his knuckles, “i was going to say...i’d love for us to go upstairs so i can get out of this ridiculously tight dress.”

inching towards you he nods, eyes latched on your lips. you feel his breath fan over your skin, goosebumps rising on your arms and legs. he’s moving slowly, enough that if your lips didn’t meet soon you’d get impatient.

“i’m sure we can make that happen,” he mumbles, so low you almost don’t hear him.

you know from this point on, you can trust him on his word. you can’t think to hesitate when he tilts your chin up to connect your lips in a gentle kiss. the fire kindling in your stomach burns brighter when he nips at your bottom lip, asking for permission. you part your lips eagerly, deepening the kiss.

the growth you’ve seen just from this conversation had you hoping for a future where he trusts you completely and didn’t shy away when his own mind punished him into make rash decisions. he’d owned up to his mistake and meant everything he’d said. it would be the last time alec got the best of him. it would be the last time he’d run away from a battle he knew he had the strength to conquer, especially with you at his side.

you’d deal with the consequences of his actions tomorrow, but for now the two of you lived in your own world - far away from alec, the banquet, and any other outside force that threatened to tear you apart. he’d placed his trust in you, and you’d do anything in your power to protect it.

#asks #e!concepts #ethan!concepts #cozyethan #i hope you like it!#it’s long af soooo

35 notes · View notes

lassieposting · 3 years ago

Note

If you’re still doing the getting together ask could I request Saracen and Dexter???

I’m bored, so. Send me two (or more) characters for a headcanon on how I’d have them get together

god so. dexter can't stand saracen when they first meet.

like, dex is the second one in after erskine. So when he becomes one of what will eventually be the dead men, it's the original three - skulduggery, ghastly and hopeless - plus ravel. Dex is the youngest by a mile at 17 - he lies about his age to enlist - but he's scrappy and streetwise and has a relatively sensible head on his shoulders, so he's doing well as a soldier. Skulduggery was the one he was really itching to meet - the youngest general in 300 years, the miracle soldier, the living skeleton - but it's ghastly who actually brings him in, ghastly who saw a scared kid with the potential to be a warrior, ghastly who tried to convince him to go home and offered to teach him to box when he refused, ghastly who introduced him to the others.

Skulduggery does not have flames for eyes, does not glow with holy light and, as far as dexter can tell, does not have any extra special fancy magic nobody has ever seen before. A little bit of dexter is disappointed, but skulduggery is still the most intimidating person he's ever met - he only says four words to dexter the first time they meet: "You're in my way." - but dexter gets the impression that this is someone to whom bloody murder comes as naturally as blinking. His induction into the group is a gruelling three week mission to the scottish highlands, which he's fairly sure is supposed to put him off, but it doesn't.

And things go great, until saracen turns up.

Now, dexter has never really had much to do with The Aristos™ before, unless you count pickpocketing them and legging it with their valuables. But he knows that technically, both skulduggery and erskine come from very wealthy, landed families, and hes spent plenty of time with them, so he thinks he knows how rich people work. and like...yes, ravel has a tendency to be a bit stuffy and pompous, but the fact of the matter is that they've both spent over a century slumming it in the army - skug, especially, likes to lead from the front and lives the same way his men do. They've lost a lot of the inherent prejudices and snobbery that comes with being nobility in the 1700s. So nothing about either of them prepares him for saracen rue.

Saracen is your quintessential 1700s rich boy. He bought his commission - as opposed to skug, who enlisted with ghastly and came up through the ranks - and he arrives to meet with skug and corrival wearing a spotless uniform like a toy soldier in a shop window. His tent is obnoxiously elaborate, he has a wagon and horse to store it and his belongings, and the first thing he does is hand dex his bags like he expects him to set the tent up for him. Dexter looks at this gorgeous, glamorous man and then at skug - who wears battered leathers and gets into fistfights and sleeps outdoors with the rest of them without complaining, and wonders how on earth these two people came from the same sort of family

And - it's not that saracen intends to be offensive at all. He's very much attracted to dexter and wants him to like him. He's very jovial and friendly and he even makes skug laugh on occasion, which is a superpower in and of itself in the post-death, pre-vile days. But he's also kind of entitled and tends to be a bit superior, and he's one of those people who just...talk, and don't necessarily think too much about how what they say will sound before saying it.

For example: the case of the lost necklace. As a young boy, Dexter pickpocketed a locket from a distracted young nobleman, and gifted it to his mother, so she could feel like a lady. When he signed up to fight, his mother gave him the locket to wear and made him promise to bring it back to her when the war was over. During one mission Dexter ends up spending the night with saracen in his stupid fancy tent, and when they're postcoitally lazing, saracen mentions that he recognises the locket, a gift he'd bought for his sister - he knows the inscription written inside. Dexter is mortified, but saracen shrugs it off and casually reveals that when he'd realised it was gone, he'd simply commissioned another one. "You can keep it," he says magnanimously, before making a very off-colour joke about how after that performance, dexter certainly earned it. Dex, who has had to sell sex a few times to put food in his siblings' mouths, does not take this well, and things are complicated for a while - he's frosty, but saracen seems to like that, and they keep ending up in bed together and then bickering and ignoring each other and then repeating the cycle.

They have moments of tenderness, though - occasional at first, and then more often as the years go by. Saracen teaches Dexter to read and write, and learns how to scrap and play knucklebones in return. They drink together and tend to each other's wounds and try to figure out what the fuck is going on between skug and ghastly together, unaware that skug and ghastly are doing the same about them. Saracen dresses Dexter up in his fancy clothes and teaches him to walk and talk and dance like a gentleman, both of them howling with laughter the whole time, and then strips the fancy clothes off him and tells him he prefers him without them. They trade stories, and slights, and sweet nothings, amd over the years they become...something to one another.

And then there's Siberia, the mission to assassinate a man so terrible his own people called him "the butcher". Something goes wrong, they're forced to scatter, and when they meet back up at the rendezvous point, they're a man down. Saracen is missing.

Dexter is absolutely frozen with panic, and he doesn't know why. Skulduggery handles it with the same cool, detached competency he always has in a crisis, and the others seem to take their lead from him, but all dexter can think of is saracen, captured and injured and terrified, and how they've all heard that nobody survives the butcher's interrogations for more than 48 hours. The teleporter arrives to take them home, and they refuse to go, and somehow dexter stumbles through the next three days of searching for saracen in a blind fucking haze of fear, sleepless and sick to his stomach, chewing his nails down to the quick.

It's saracen who finds them, in the end, limping towards them sporting little more than some gnarly bruises, missing his jacket and wearing someone else's trousers. Dexter dives on him as soon as he's within arm's reach and they go down in the snow and he's crying like a child and as soon as they're done kissing he's smacking saracen in the chest, suddenly furious, snarling, "never do that to me again! Never do that to me again!" right up until skulduggery gets hold of him under the armpits and drags him off. That night, after the story of saracen's incredible escape has been told and retold and expanded with each telling, dexter tries to tell saracen how worried he's been, how scared he was, how he thought they might never see each other again. But he cant find the words, and he keeps stopping and starting and getting frustrated

And in the end, when it's clear dex isn't really getting anywhere with this, saracen puts his head back down in dexter's lap, shuts his eyes and says, "ah, shush. I love you too."

And they leave it at that

#Anon #fire message #skulduggery pleasant #sexter #vexrue #sp headcanons

12 notes · View notes

oosteven-universe · 3 years ago

Text

Night of the Ghoul #2

Night of the Ghoul #2 ComiXology Originals/Best Jackett Press 2021 Written by Scott Snyder Illustrated by Franco Francavilla Lettered by Andworld Design In the film Night of the Ghoul, it’s 1918 and our nation is rejoicing as soldiers return from the battlegrounds of the Great War. But what if something has come back with them? In the real world, a father and son discover the blurred line between fiction and reality. Ooh child this issue is better than the first one. The opening is creepy as all get out and it does a brilliant job in getting us ready for and back into the swing of things. If you are anything like me you read a lot of books each week (because yes so many are worth reading) and this opening just hits you and we’re back in horror mode. Also now that Kurt and Johnny are back home it’ll be interesting to see how Kurt goes about life now especially with his son being around. Now I’m going to give a little spoiler here but Johnny sticks around and If I didn’t know better it’s like Alex has two dads. Still, that Scott is able to navigate between the then and the now so effortlessly and then to tie them together in such a way that feels so much larger than what’s on the surface is really something special. I’m a huge fan of the way that this is being told. The story & plot development that we see through how the sequence of events unfold as well as how the reader learns information are presented exceptionally well. The character development that we see through the dialogue, the character interaction as well as how we see them act and react to the situations and circumstances which they encounter keeps their personalities moving vividly and seemingly alive. The pacing is excellent and as it takes us through the pages revealing more of the story the more of it I want to see. I’m really very impressed with the way that we see this being structured. Not to mention how we see the layers within the story continuing to emerge, grow, evolve and strengthen. I’m liking how we see the layers opening up new avenues to be explored and how the correlation between the film and real life is tied so closely together. How all this adds so much depth, dimension and complexity to the story is extremely nice to see. How everything works together to create the story’s ebb & flow as well as how it moves the story forward are impeccably handled. The interiors here are pretty brilliant. Seeing Mr. Merrit’s face throughout the book and how hideously deformed it is now next to Forest, Orson’s father, is striking. We see some great use of backgrounds throughout, though I'd love to see more, and how they enhance and expand the moments. They also work within the composition of the panels to bring out the depth perception, sense of scale and the overall sense of size and scope to the story. The utilisation of the page layouts, those burned film cels for instance, and how we see the angles and perspective in the panels show such a masterful eye for storytelling. The pops of colour that we see within the gray scale is beautifully done. The light sources show how that changes the mood, tone and feel of the book. The further we get into this the creepier it becomes and it’s just building up exactly like it should be and I’m more than terribly excited for the next issue already. With what each character is going through, something alone would be terrifying but happening simultaneously so that help isn't on the way is downright horrific. Scott’ writing is damn near brilliant and the characterisation is flawless and Francavilla captures our hearts and fears beautifully.

#Comic Books #Comics Reviews #ComiXology Originals

2 notes · View notes

babbushka · 5 years ago

Text

Beautiful, Beloved (5/8)

You had met three times: The first, an introduction. The second, a lunch. The third, your wedding. Can bonds be made in such short a time as a week long honeymoon aboard the immensely impressive RMS Titanic?

Yes, yes they can.

Titanic!AU Kylo Ren x Reader

7.5k ; Warnings: NSFW, mentions of imperialism and war, mentions of violence/murder, mild angst.

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

The trip so far had been, in a word, magical. You were starting to wonder if there were any other way to really describe it, being with Kylo. He was so charming, with the way he championed you at every opportunity, spoke so highly of you and your causes. He was so funny, with his quick jokes and scathing remarks half-hidden behind tall champagne glasses. And he was intelligent, calculating and cunning and so smart, smart in a way that many of the other first class passengers hoped they seemed to be. They were all peacocks though, empty words and haughty laughs at quick criticisms that went over their heads.

Not your Kylo. No, he was a true gentleman in every sense of the word, accompanying you through the ship in the following days.

Time seemed to fly faster than the ship sailed through the sea, you thought to yourself as you rustled the sheets gently. You and Kylo had been aboard the ship for four whole days, four days filled with explorations and parties and dinners galore. You were the talk of the town, as it were, between your expensive Worth gowns and your husband’s reputation.

You paid the latter no mind, and instead spent most of your time seeing all that the Titanic had to offer.

He had taken you to the squash court just as promised, and you met up with your dear friend Lady Hux to watch a raucous few games between some of the sportsmen aboard. While the men grew competitive on the floor of G-deck, you and your husbands watched eagerly and made bets up on F-deck in luxury.

Aside from the games, you also enjoyed time in the pool. A part of the Turkish bath spa complex aboard F-deck, you had yourself a good soak before the two of you indulged in a couple’s massage that had left you more relaxed than ever before.

You visited all the restaurants and cafes available to you, the Veranda and Palm courts especially thrilled you with their greenery. Recent memories of tea on the Promenade, shows and card games and dances to orchestras filled your head. You liked being on the ship, it was a true marvel of course, but you longed for some green, and were excited to be surrounded by Earth once again when the ship was set to dock in merely only three more days.

How had the time passed, you wondered? It was too strange, how you would fall asleep and wake up in the night only to see the clock had gone backwards. Was it a deliberate trick of the captain? Or were you simply suffering cabin fever?

No, you chuckled to yourself, you were sure there was a reason for it. The ocean had its mysteries, but surely time travel was not one of them. You allowed your mind to wander about docking in New York, allowed yourself to think about all the things Kylo had promised.

The parties at the Waldorf-Astoria, the flowers from Union Square, the sheep in Prospect Park. You imagined his face staring up at the marvels of the skyscrapers, towering an incredible sixty stories tall!

Now though, you laid side by side in bed. His face was so peaceful like this, in sleep. You felt badly for him, even though this was his honeymoon he was still so stressed, so many thoughts running through his head. You could practically feel them, when you lifted your hand up and carded it through his beautiful silken locks. You tried to imagine him in the fashionable short cut, and found you couldn’t. There were many things you tried to imagine your husband as, but none of them could ever really compare to what he was.

He blinked awake slowly, like a cat who did not wish to really get up from his nap. He stretched his long strong limbs out, and in shaking away the dreams from his bones, he wrangled you into his arms, trapped you in his sleep-warm embrace.

“Good morning my darling.” You tucked a stray lock of hair which curled against his cheek so lovingly, back behind his ear. He no longer scowled at the movement, and you considered this a personal victory.

“Is it truly morning? I cannot tell if I am dreaming still, for you are so lovely.” His voice is exceptionally deep with sleep as he rolled you on top of him, he laid flat on his back, his chin tucking down against his chest to see you properly. His eyes are smiling, even if he’s not yet a morning person.

You took the opportunity to sit up and straddle him. The blanket and sheets slipped down your naked body as your hands rubbed coaxing circles on his hard stomach and defined pecs.

“Shall I help you realize how real I am?” You whispered, your hair falling around your face in a way you hoped was enticing.

From the way Kylo’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment and opened with renewed attention and lust, you knew it had.

“Oh if I could be so lucky to be graced by Heaven’s touch.” He licked his lips, his hands abandoning your waist to slide up your chest and cup your breasts handsomely.

“Mmm,” You leaned into the touch, arched your back and expanded your rib cage so that he might get a better grasp of them. You sighed happily, feeling his morning wood pressing against your inner thigh where your legs were spread around his thick hips, “Speaking of which, it’s Sunday. Will you be making an appearance at the services?”

“I care very little for sermons and would much prefer my worship to take place in…private.” Kylo shook his head, the comparison making you laugh brightly, your head tipping back slightly as you lifted yourself onto your knees above him

“That can be arranged.” You moaned softly, lowering yourself on his hard cock.

He looked unfairly delicious like this, you thought. Every single one of his defined and developed muscles flexed and pulled underneath his scar-ridden skin, it was a sight to behold, the sheen of sweat which made him glow from within.

“Damn, (Y/N), damn you’re gorgeous.” Kylo grumbled, chest tensing and fluttering underneath you. His thighs were enormous, so muscular. Legs perfect for bracketing your own body, with the way they bent at the knee to provide you better leverage.

“Kylo – oh!” You smacked his stomach playfully as he used that leverage to buck up into you, his cock shoving up up up into your pussy, making you yelp out in pleasure. “Oh please, please do that again!”

You’d grown so used to this, this sight underneath you above you behind you around you consuming you – it was the only way you ever wanted to start the day. And so you moaned, not caring of the thickness of the walls, not caring of those passing by your suite en route to church, not caring about uanything other than the feeling of his huge dick filling your pussy. And fill you it did, as he bucked up again and again.

“I – I – oh fuck,” It was too early for filth to drip from his lips, but he didn’t need to say it, not with the way he was panting and grunting and moaning and groaning, his eyes fighting to stay open so he could watch the marvel that was your body moving and grinding and bouncing on him. “Fuck, (Y/N).”

Your knees grew as weak as your cunt was wet when he sat up and kissed your tits, pushed them together and bit at the flesh there, flicked his tongue over your nipple. He moved his hand to clamp down on your neck, pinning you in place as your pussy clenched around his cock, vicelike and unrelenting as you rolled your hips in much the same way the waves smack against the hull of the Titanic.

“Moremoremore – yes!” You hung on to his shoulders, nails digging into the meat of his back, as he tumbled you backwards with a laugh and regained control with this new position.

He clung to you, panted and drooled in your ear and you were unable to stop the moans from tumbling past your lips, for he was so big, filled you so completely. The bed below you squeaked and shook, trembled from the force of his hips as he sought out your gspot.

You moaned out a shout when the head of his cock brushed against it, exploiting that feeling and sending you nearly out of body, shuddering out a gasp as stars fill your vision, not even realizing that his other hand abandoned your nipple to instead rub rub rub at your clit, a hot tongue sliding against yours to swallow your moans.

“God!” Kylo cried, “God yes!” A blaspheme loud and clear, his hot come shooting into you.

Hazy eyed and blissed out, you smiled against his teeth as you could feel it warming you up from the inside. It had grown so cold during the night, but here beneath your husband you were toasty, sweat-slick and in desperate need of a bath.

“Don’t move, please don’t move, not yet, please.” You begged, settled into the mattress underneath him and jus held his body against yours.

“We’ve all the time in the world.” Kylo assured into your neck, taking a mouthful of your throat and biting down hard as he ground his hips against yours, coming inside you still, his muscles aching and burning in the best of ways.

It took some time to regain your breath, but once you did, you lightly patted Kylo’s back and he pulled out with a wince and a groan, the both of you flopping down onto your backs and staring up at the beautifully crown-molded ceiling of the bedroom.

Light spilled in from the port-hole windows, illuminating the side of Kylo’s face in a way that showed off how deep of a gash his face had held. You lifted a shaking hand and gently traced the valley of his browbone, all the way down to his lips where he captured your hand and kissed the palm.

“I’ve invited Miss Rose and Mr. Dopheld to join us for tea today.” Kylo said, when he was finally awake enough for proper sentences.

You smiled, sat up despite your wobbly muscles and stretched.

“Oh I’ll be so glad to see them, I want to hear all about their time on the ship, if it’s been pleasant.” You mused, yawning and sighing happily.

“They’ve got the best accommodations for staff, I’ve made sure of it.” Kylo gave your back a gentle pat just as you had done his, and you knew it meant to come lay back down, but you had other ideas.

“Come, let’s bathe.” You shook your head at him, making him playfully groan and complain all the way next door.

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

When the both of you were clean and dressed for the day, Kylo rang up the staff and gave them the permission to enter the suite. Rose looked beautifully sun-kissed, her dark hair and eyes imbued with warmth. You suspected she had taken the liberty of laying out under the clear skies on one of the lounge chairs Kylo had wound up renting just to have on hand.

Dohpeld on the other hand, was unusually pale, hinting at nearly the entire time spent indoors, which you thought interesting.

You greeted your staff, invited them to the sitting room where Rose brewed a pot of tea for everyone. Only when it was done did you all really begin to relax, everyone seated at the table and enjoying a morning cuppa.

“It’s been quite some time since we’ve all seen one another! Please do tell, have you been enjoying the trip so far?” You asked, knowing it was improper for them to start a conversation of their own accord.

The moment you say the word though, Rose launches into an animated recount of her time between sips of tea.

“Oh Lady Ren it’s an absolute dream! I’ve met so many wonderful people and we’ve all taken to reading in the sunshine – a book club of sorts. It seems many of us have brought along the same novel to carry us through this fine journey, we take turns reading aloud to one another and analyzing the chapters.” Rose told you, making you wonder which book it was that proved to be so popular among the ladies. “I’m particularly interested in the psychological context behind many of the characters’ behavior, it’s been fascinating to discuss. Oh! Also, I went to the baths last night and it was marvelous. Do you think perhaps when we have returned home, you may be inclined to install a bathhouse at the manor, Lord Ren?” She asked hopefully.

“Of course, I hear the baths of Turkey in particular are of excellent health benefits, why should we not have one?” Kylo replied easily, “Why should we not have the very best? We’ll have one installed in the manor and the summer home.”

This made Rose grin in excitement, so much so that she could barely keep a hold of her teacup. It made you happy, to see Kylo so kind to his staff. You thought back to how Rose had said Kylo paid for the entirety of her sister’s expenses when she passed, and were glad to hear his generosity was not a one-off occasion.

“And what of you Mr. Dopheld, have you been smoking cigars and playing poker with the lads downstairs?” You implored, giving him a wink at the sight of his slight pallor.

Color returned to his cheeks then as he blushed.

“Forgive me Lady Ren, I find I’ve been spending much of my time actually among the older women among the first class passengers -- not in any salacious way of course! But I find they’re such an interesting group, and rife with gossip.” Dopheld stammered over himself, only grabbing the acute attention of your husband.

“Do tell.” Kylo encouraged, his expression and tone remaining neutral but the spark in his eyes curious.

“Well, word from the engine room is that because the Titanic is sailing so smoothly, we are set to arrive in New York a day early. Can you imagine that? A ship this large running so smooth that it’s ahead of course!” Dopheld offered, sipping his tea with a mischievous little smirk, “And then there’s of course the matter of the scandals…”

“Dopheld I swear you are worse than a sewing circle.” Rose laughed, and you were inclined to agree, but your husband simply quirked a brow.

“I would like to hear the scandals.” Kylo sipped his own cup, and you sighed with a fond little exasperation that had Kylo shrugging as if to say, what? They talk about us, why should we not talk about them?

“You know that handsome fellow, Quigg Baxter – the one with the eye patch? Well turns out that he, his younger sister, and their mother are all staying somewhere here on B-deck. But hear this, down on C-deck, there’s a young woman by the name of Berthe Mayne. Apparently, he fell in love with her on his family trip to Paris and is bringing her back to the continent with him! His family doesn’t know, she’s even going by an alias.” Dopheld said softly, in case the man in question were listening in.

“Well that’s not so bad.” You offered, trying to give him the benefit of the doubt.

“She’s a prostitute and a cabaret singer.” Dopheld explained, and you found your eyes widening.

“Oh dear.” Was all you could say, because my my, that was something.

“Oh! And she’s not the only one aboard the ship with an alias, another singing mistress, Leontine Aubart just so happens to be here, and you’ll never guess who she’s with.” Rose piped up then, joining in the fun, her own remark about sewing circles seemingly forgotten. What was a sewing circle to a book club, after all?

“Well you must tell us.” Dopheld gestured with his hand.

“Benjamin Guggenheim – yes that Guggenheim. The married man left his wife behind to take his mistress aboard the Titanic, now that is quite the scandal. They each have separate rooms but everyone knows they’re together, just as we all know she’s expecting; everyone simply has the decency not to say anything about it. There’s a betting pool for whether or not he’ll recognize the child, being that it’ll be illegitimate.” Rose said with a chuckle.

“If I were a gambling man, I’d put money on not.” Kylo said thoughtfully, making you laugh at his encouragement.

“Kylo!” You playfully swatted his arm, and he only grasped your hand and kissed the knuckles, turning those doe-eyes on you.

“I said if, blossom.” He replied, making you shake your head with a grin.

“Oh, do either of you know whether the lifeboat drill is to take place today?” You remembered randomly, “I’ve not yet checked the newsletter.”

“It’s been canceled.” Rose replied, making you and Kylo frown.

“That doesn’t seem like a very good idea, does it?” Kylo asked, but Rose shrugged.

“That’s what we all think too, but according to the staff, the engines are running so smoothly that it would be unproductive to halt them for a good couple hours to lower the lifeboats and raise them all back up again.” She explained, “Plus, it would cut into the Sunday services, and you can only imagine how disgruntled that would leave those participating.”

“That does make sense, I suppose.” You muse, although it doesn’t sit right with you.

Why did it matter that the Titanic was going so smoothly? Everyone’s plans were already set for the scheduled arrival – and besides, a day early wouldn’t mean a day sooner off the boat. They’d simply sit in the harbor for another twenty-four hours, what difference did it make?

“Besides, according to the staff they already did a lifeboat drill prior to accepting passengers and departing from Southampton, and it went -- pardon my pun -- swimmingly.” Rose continued, quite pleased with her little remark.

“That’s very good then.” Kylo didn’t seem bothered by any of this at all any longer, and shifted onto other things. “Now, I’ve called you here because while I do truly value your company and your insights into the goings on of the ship, I wanted to get your opinion on a new detail for our arrival in New York.”

“I thought it was all planned out, my Lord.” Dopheld asked, but Kylo shrugged.

“It is, I just thought we might add a stop or two, extend the trip by a week perhaps.” He turned to you, “Niagra Falls has been on my mind for quite some time, I think our beautiful Lady would be amazed by its rush and power. What do you say?”

You let the thought of the lifeboats leave your mind for the time being, happy to instead imagine the wonders of nature. You nodded, and Dopheld gave a short nod in response.

“I will see who I may need to contact to make the arrangements the moment you depart for your stroll, my Lord.” The footman made a note of it on a small pad of paper he kept on his person, and you admired his preparedness.

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

The stroll in question was a way that you liked to end each day, just before dinner. No matter what you had decided to fill the day’s activities with, it was a wonderful opportunity to wind down in preparation for what would no doubt be an exciting evening. Between the dinner parties and dancing, the gambling, the smoking and drinking, well. You could use a few moments of peace when you could get them.

You were indulging in the stroll now, arm in arm the way that’s so scandalous, tucked against one another. Out on the Boat Deck this time, as opposed to the Promenade or Veranda, you enjoyed the only truly open area of the ship. It’s cold, but you’re wearing a grand coat made of Persian lamb’s wool and soft mink fur, so if there was a chill in the air, you certainly didn’t feel it.

“You know my darling, I’m finding that of all the past times aboard the ship, these moments alone with you are my most cherished.” You said, making him blush.

You liked being on the Boat Deck, for it was a place where first and second class passengers could both enjoy the sights of the sea. There were benches available for sitting and discussion, as well as quoits boards set up. You watched happily as a group of children entertained themselves with a round or two, laughing jovially as they each made scores.

“Is that so? More fun than watching horseshoes?” Kylo took notice of your interest in the second-class goings ons, and you only shook your head, grinned.

“Infinitely.” You both came to a stop at the very edge of the Boat Deck, where the railings were the only thing separating you from the skies, the sea.

You and Kylo stood side by side at the railing, one of his arms wound around your waist protectively. Your fur hat was not so large that it prevented you from resting your head atop his shoulder like you had become so tempted to do at all times, and you’re glad for it.

Maybe it was the sight of the sun beginning to set, maybe it was the endless expanse of the ocean, you couldn’t tell, but something in your husband grew wistful. You could see it in his eyes when he pressed a kiss to your temple and sighed.

“You can ask me anything you know,” He said, “Anything at all. I’ll answer you truthfully, about all of it.”

You know what he meant.

Over the course of the four days together aboard this ship, you had talked about everything under the sun. Politics, social ethics, finances, history, likes and dislikes – everything…except for,

“Why did you go to Africa?”

It was a gentle question for a violent past. One that you’d been avoiding out of respect for your husband, much like the discussion of the circumstances that had given him the scar adorning his face. But unlike the scar, you had no knowledge of his time in the continent, and you wanted to know to satisfy your own curiosity, and to get a better sense of the man your husband was.

“Because they told me to.” He replied, not looking at you, eyes cast out towards the ocean. “It was an order, and I followed it. Had I not gone, they would have stripped me of my fortune.”

“Who?” You prompted.

“The King and Queen. I come from a powerful yet politically notorious family, you don’t need to follow the gossip to know this. My mother, she has been a great opposition to the crown for some time, and my father…” You could tell the mention of the man was a sore subject, simply from the way he grit his teeth together and clenched his jaw momentarily. “When he was alive he was nothing but a debtor, an embarrassment. I had to do something to regain the crown’s trust, and when they presented me with an order to Africa and lead a battalion against a group of rebels to secure British hold on the colonies, I took it.”

You thought that over for a long time, contemplative as the gentle breeze tousled Kylo’s hair.

“I’m not against war, you know. I know that feels hypocritical of me, as much of my causes are on the foundations of justice. But justice doesn’t always equate to peace. I’m very against it, the New Imperialism.” You clarified, “You must know that I don’t condone it at all, the stealing of lands from people, the claiming it all as our own. But war, well. Humanity has always been at war. It just depends on whether the war is worth fighting.”

Kylo regarded you with an awe, an interest you’d never seen before. Was he so convinced you’d throw him overboard at the admission?

“Was it…I mean, did you…” You tried to frame the question but fall flat.

“I killed many people, if that’s what you’re asking. I slaughtered an entire village, all on my own.” He knew what you meant, and he spoke coolly when he gave you the answer you had been expecting. You weren’t surprised when he continued, “They gave me a medal for it, gave me two. Men, women, children. And I felt little to no remorse, why should I? They were just people standing in the great Empire’s way. Now of course, I am haunted by them, but what can I do – the deeds have been done, and they were done proudly. Part of me is still proud.”

“I do not condemn you for the things you have done. I understand that some things are bigger than us.” You placed your hand over his on the railing where you both leaned against.

“And if there were ever such a thing bigger than this,” Kylo took the hand you offered, held it gently, “I would not know it.”

You’re not sure if he means you, or Africa.

“This scramble is going to launch us into a war, it cannot end any other way.” You whisper, for the wind could carry such words if spoken any louder, “A global incident, I fear. The colonial lobbyists are growing tense, and that tension may soon explode. I hear the stories, great and grand weapons like that of our Lord Hux, weapons that will be unleashed simply because they are too impressive to be kept hidden any longer. The world is itching for war, itching to show these weapons off.”

“You’re right.” Kylo agreed, trying to make sense of you, trying to figure out how you were the perfect woman. “Germany in particular has been growing more and more aggressive with the British relations. It is strange, how this back and forth with Germany has pushed Britain and France closer together – an unlikely alliance, given our history. But where we stand now, France and Britain know they are the largest powerhouses of warfare. There will be war, and it will be the ugliest thing the planet has ever seen, and our friends will grow exorbitantly wealthy from it.”

“You said Lord Hux is a friend and business partner, does this mean we will too?” You asked suddenly thinking, suddenly remembering the conversation all those evenings ago.

“Yes.” Kylo answered, before steeling himself with, “Do you hate me?”

“If there is a war to come no matter what we do, and if people will die either way, surely it makes the most sense – morally and financially, to be on the most just side, does it not? If someone is to profit, let it be us, who can use that money to push back into our causes, rather than someone who would simply hoard the wealth.” You put him at ease, “I do not hate you, I think you are smart. You won’t go though, when the war starts, will you?”

A sudden pang of pain hit you at the thought, at the thought of him out in the field somewhere being shot at and shooting once again.

He sighed, ran a hand through his long locks. In the setting sun, he looked so vulnerable, so small then.

“If I didn’t have you, yes, I would have.” He was sincere, and that saddened you too much to bear.

“But you do have me.” You said, and he frowned.

“Do I? Even knowing this about me, do I still have you?” Kylo whispered, reaching his other hand across to cup your cheek.

“When was it, your time in Africa?” You nuzzled into it, sighed.

“Ten years ago.” Kylo recounted, “Second Boer War. I was stationed in the Orange Free State in South Africa during the final phase from September of 1900 to May of 1902.”

“Ten years is a long time. You were eighteen then, following someone else’s orders.” You turned your hand in Kylo’s and kept eye contact when you pressed a hot, open mouthed kiss to his palm, “I hope that from here on out, the only orders you follow are mine.”

His eyes darkened, and you felt the thrill of danger swoop through you. Not danger in fear of him, but of what the two of you could wreak havoc on together.

“I am not loyal to anyone more than I am to you, not even the crown. I know it has not been long that we’ve known each other, but I hope that in time I can prove this to you. My compliments of your person have not been for show, I find you genuinely and sincerely incredible and it would be an honor to carry out your wishes.” Kylo’s tone was so serious that your heart beat quicker, knowing how truthful he was, how honest thrilled you.

“I know it cannot be easy, reliving and remembering the things you’ve done. But I don’t think you any less of a gentleman for it, and all we can do is move forward. You fought for the crown, fought for your family name, and in a way, you fought for us.” You hoped to convey your loyalty as well, in the lifetime to come.

Kylo stepped away from the railing then, offered you his arm. The two of you needed to keep moving, otherwise you’d fall chilly despite your beautiful coat. You took his arm and smiled, walked with him around the deck.

“No one has ever considered me with such kindness the way you do.” Kylo said, not for the first time.

“I should hope not, for I am your wife, not them.” You replied, a playful and loving smile hopefully setting his nerves at ease.

“Yes, you are, and I am forever in your debt.” Kylo chuckled, like an embarrassed schoolboy being caught in a trivial prank, “I have to admit, when I was told of our arrangement all those years ago, I…kept tabs on you.”

“Oh?” You raised a brow with a grin, and oh he truly blushed now!

“Not anything overt, of course, but just. If you happened to throw a function I would inquire how it went, if you were happy. Your happiness is of great importance to me, it always has been. You could have been cruel as the others are, you could have participated in the condemnation of my actions as so many have, and yet you didn’t.” He grew shy, bashful. “I was fascinated by that, you know. Part of me wanted you to gossip, just so I could know what you thought of me.”

“You could have just asked me.” You shook your head with a laugh.

“No I couldn’t have, you are far too beautiful, I clam up when you’re around.” He smiled.

Just then, some of the children playing quoit ran around you, cutting you off. If it had been an adult Kylo would have surely had words with them, but one cannot deny the sound of children laughing put everything in a better mood.

“If this is how talkative you are when you’re clammed up, I can’t wait to hear your ramblings when you’re at ease.” You teased, before sighing and gesturing towards those kids who had disappeared around a corner, their laughter echoing after them. “I envision a long and happy life together, you know. I envision lots of children and sprawling estates and great political debates, side by side. We’ll show them, we’ll show all of them the true power you possess.”

“I cannot tell if your passion is for peace or blood.” Kylo hummed playfully, squeezing your arm in his.

“You cannot get one without the other.” You shrugged, before letting out a dramatic sigh. “But as much as I would love to continue this introspective conversation, I’d like to shift to more pleasant topics if we may? If we are to dine with the Huxes again this evening, I’ll need as many of my wits as I can spare.”

“Of course blossom, of course.” Kylo grinned and nodded then, humoring you and grateful for the break in heavy conversation in his own right. “Should I comment on the weather? How chilly it has become in only a few short days.”

You made a show of bundling up your coat and shivering with a laugh.

“Rose was telling me that it’s supposed to get freezing tonight!” You recalled from another little conversation during tea that morning.

“Perhaps we can sneak down to the boiler rooms, that would surely keep you warm. What do you say? After dinner we can continue our tour of the ship to her very depths.” Kylo rounded the corner along with you, took a quick peek from either direction and gently pushed you up against the wall of the little compartment that provided you cover.

You grinned and bit your lip, breathed in the warm exhale he puffed across your cheek as he leaned in, crowded your space as he had the very first day aboard the ship.

“I daresay it sounds like a marvelous idea, I’m incredibly interested in how such a ship as this runs – especially if it is running as smoothly as Dopheld claims.” You teased, for that surely was not the only reason you wanted him there.

“You’ll be a sight for the engine workers’ sore eyes, that’s for certain.” Kylo nodded diplomatically, “And I might have a note or two in my pocket which could bribe them to look the other way for some time. I had a dream last night, of taking you up against one of the walls where no one would know if the steam was from our bodies, or the ship.”

“I find I’m suddenly desperately parched.” You whisper, eyes already closing as you ask, “May I have a sip of the sweet nectar from your lips?”

You drink from one another’s mouths until the sun firmly sets beyond the horizon, and the bugle is called for dinner time – and then you kiss some more.

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

Dinner, as always, was eventful. The food was good and the company better, you and Lady Hux once again having the floor to command the conversation while the men at the table simply listened and enjoyed your smart banter and retellings of stories that had the whole section listening in with hearty laughter.

Laughter which continued through bottles of champagne and beers, leaving everyone in a pleasant bubbly mood.

Such a pleasant mood in fact, that the four of you now found yourselves in the first class Smoking Room, participating in a very intense game of strip poker.

It would seem that cunning though he was, Lord Hux was having quite the streak of bad luck this evening. The poor man was down to his undershirt, drawers and sock-garters, whereas your husband still managed to somehow have his pants buttoned up nicely. Much more scandalously though, were the state of you and Lady Hux, who were in equal amounts of undress.

The four of you sat around the table in the Smoking Room, piles of clothes haphazardly thrown about in laughing fits as Hux dealt the next hand. And, true to the room’s name, everyone participated in a vice of some sort. Kylo and Hux preferred a fat cigar each, where you and Lady Hux shared a long thin cigarette, such a sight that would surely give your parents a heart attack if they were to ever see it.

But in the room your parents were not, so you allowed yourself this bit of fun. Hux seemed to be sobering up enough to shuffle the cards properly, and you used it as an opportunity.

“Lord Hux, I do believe when we first dined together you were more than inclined to speak about some weapons which you’ve designed.” You prompted, lazily leaning against Kylo’s side, your bare shoulder from lack of shirtwaist brushing against his own.

“Quite right.” Hux replied, cigar between his teeth.

“And as your illustrious wife had pointed out, perhaps the reception room was not the right time nor place for such discussions.” You grinned at your friend who grinned back, as you all accepted your cards for this round. “But as we are all in a sense, laying bare this evening, I thought you might indulge an interested party.”

Hux hummed over his cards, smoked while the three of you watched.

“Imagine this,” He painted a picture, “A vehicle designed with bullet proof walls, thick and made with impenetrable steel. Bullets bounce off of its body and ricochet into enemy bodies, as the rolling wheels crush barbed wire, drown soldiers into the mud. But it is not a defensive machine, no! Strapped to the side is a canon like those on the sides of warships, loaded and reloaded by soldiers inside, soldiers ready to pour out with weapons of mass destruction all their own.”

“Guns?” You asked, and Hux only laughed.

“Not just any guns, automated guns, guns which fire multiple rounds per minute – per second. Razing down an entire battlefield in the time it takes to blink, and then blowing said field to smithereens when you’re done.” He was so passionate, you found yourself drawn in.

“You’ve designed such a weapon?” Your eyes widened, finding the awe in the image terrible and exciting.

“I’ve designed those and more.” Hux answered, “We will bring victory to the Empire with these new advancements, should they be needed in the future.”

“’Should.’” Lady Hux snorted out a laugh, “My darling and I are convinced that the time for war will be soon upon us. That is the reason we are aboard the Titanic, we have secured a meeting with some heads of American government security, in the attempt to…rub elbows a bit.”

“Good luck, the Americans are so strongly against war that they’ll never agree to it.” Now it was Kylo’s turn to scoff as he flipped his cards over, showing a very impressive hand. “They’re not like the lobbyists frothing at the mouth for more battle.”

Lady Hux wasn’t too big a fan of that, and she tossed down her less-than-impressive hand with a huff.

“If I have to hear their rampant defense of enslavement once more I’m going to simply open fire upon the entire lot of them!” She rolled her eyes, “I personally think this is an attempt at recovering from the disaster that was the good ol’ U-S-A. The crown must be embarrassed, even after all this time to attempt to dominate another indomitable continent.”

“You think Africa will be indomitable?” Kylo asked curiously.

“I know it will, as it should be. Is the Empire not big enough already? Britain is greedy, as are the lobbyists. That is their hubris, and it will be their eventual downfall. We could have settled with what we had but yet, we always need more. How are we to be a great nation when we throw innocents in concentration camps? It is despicable what has happened in Africa, and the world will surely pay for it.” Her grand speech inspired you, even if it was a tad hypocritical given her own political gaining.

“But we are not the only country attempting to secure our hold, nor have we been for a long time.” You pointed out, “France, Russia, Germany, Portugal – they all have pieces of countries in their clutches. They are just as greedy, if not more. Speaking of countries, I’m surprised the Americans will even bother to give you the time of day – wasn’t it only a couple of decades ago that they had that bloody civil war, a conflict caused by their own imperialism and consequences of the enslavement of those from Africa?”

“Maybe, but they are young and they are hungry, this much is true.” Hux put down his cards, making you grimace for a slight moment or two before you schooled your expression. Thankfully, no one was paying attention, as Hux continued, “And we have more than enough fruit to share.”

“We do, don’t we?” You mused with a sigh, “Kylo told me about the partnership, I’d like you to know I’m not opposed to it. In fact, I think it’s very smart what you’re doing, if perhaps a little devious. I would much rather us have these great killing machines than another nation who might turn them against us – although they no doubt have killing machines of their own, I’m sure.”

And finally, you put down your cards, eliciting a whoop and a cheer from your friends when it became clear you had the worst hand of the round. You all laughed and smoked and you were a good sport about it,

“You’d be correct, we can only hope ours are bigger and make more of a boom. And now my friend, I believe you must remove your corset cover.”

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

The hiss and clang of the boiler rooms greeted you before the heat did, but the moment it does, it is sweltering. A maze of wrought iron stairs and grate walkways seemed to stretch on forever into the bowels of the ship, and looking down down down it made you almost dizzy.

You had ventured to the depths of the Titanic after the game of strip poker concluded with your friends bidding you adieu to go indulge in one another, and you and Kylo took the opportunity to do the very same.

“Kylo…are you sure this is safe?” You whispered to your husband, nervous in a strange way that you hadn’t been before.

“Of course it’s safe, look there are workers all around us.” Kylo gestured to the men walking the pathways with ease, not even jumping when the steam erupted from valves like some great tea kettle. “They would not be down here if it were dangerous, in fact, this is likely the safest place aboard the whole ship.”

“Oh? And why is that?” You regard your husband’s cheeky grin with a little smile of your own, as he collected you up in his embrace.

“Because you’re here in my arms.” He whispered, kissing your cheek.

“You charmer,” You laughed, covering your mouth. The echo was wild down here, the noises all bouncing around the big machines. You lowered your voice to a whisper so you wouldn’t get caught, knowing full well that even if you did, Kylo could bribe them away. “I don’t think I want to go any further down though, if that’s alright. It’s so smoky down there, and I want to see you clearly.”

Kylo simply nodded, tipped your head up by a pinch of your chin, and kissed you.

You didn’t think you’d ever get over this, the thrill of kissing Kylo. He was so good at it, and you were pleased to know you were good at it too. The both of you leaning into one another, tasting one another, savoring your tongues like expensive wine, learning and growing from the reactions you were able to pull.

He wound a hand into your hair and gripped tightly at your neck, your skull tingling and making you grin against his mouth as your hands worked to unbutton his hastily done trousers. What a sight you must have been, a less than pristine example of first class elegance gone debauched.

His cock is hard in your hand, and when he realizes what you’re doing he moans into your mouth, begins hiking up all your many layers of skirt and petticoat to get to your hot pussy, so wet for him, for the very thought of him.

You thought back to that morning, how the sex had been gentle and sweet. You’re hoping that down here in the depths of the boiler room, it is aggressive, dirty, rough.

But then – Kylo stopped.

There was a lurch, a jolt of the ship.

You whined for a moment, too wrapped up in your own pursuit of pleasure, annoyed that this has stopped before it had a chance to even begun.

“What was that?” Kylo’s hand retracted from your skirts, rushing to the railing of the metal stairs, shouting to the workers below, “Does anyone know what that was?”

There is a jumbled response which summed up to we don’t know.

“Nothing, just a bump in the night I’m sure – ” You tried convincing him to return his mouth to yours, but he shook his head, adamant.

“No, no blossom,” He went still, trained his ear to the walls. “Something feels wrong, listen, do you hear that?”

You follow him to the wall, press your ear against it, when suddenly, you feel the freezing cold of dread hit your very veins.

“I’m – I’d like to go back up to our rooms now, now Kylo, please.” You whispered, and he does not hesitate to yank you up the stairs in a scrambled rushing run.

Because though you were in the middle of the ship, though you were not near or close to the waves, what you heard when you pressed your ear to the wall…

Was water.

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

:^)

Tagging some pals!

@kyloxfem @heldcaptivebychaos @solotriplets @formerly-anonhamster @lookinsidemyhead @candycanes19 @adamsnacc-kler @taylovren-types @whiskey-bumblebee @magikevalynn @tinyplanet-explorers @chelsjnov @romancedeldiablo @helloimindelaware @elfieboxcat @laurenshit @autumnlovesadam @peterisparker @goodboybensolo @intrestellarsarah @the-marvelatic @miasera @emily-strange @proxyfoxy @disaster-rose @hazydespair @yosoymuyloca @1-800-choke-that-snoke @ktellmeastory @anongirl007 @zimmerxman @okk–maaan @flapjacques @thepilotanon @aweirdlookingtree @callmemania-pls @runhbo @theold-ultraviolence

#kylo ren x reader #kylo ren/reader #kylo ren x you #kylo ren/you #kylo ren fanfic #kylo ren reader insert #titanic au #titanic kylo #titanic history #historically accurate #kylo ren smut #kylo ren imagine #kylo ren fluff #kylo ren angst #my writing #beautiful beloved

177 notes · View notes

anotherbeingsworld · 4 years ago

Text

The First Moon

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x F!MC (Casey Valentine)

Summary: The first full moon with one Louis Lahela, as it became a tradition till the very end.

Rating: G/Fluff

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything except the storyline.

Word Count: 1849

A/N: Heyy!! I am finally writing-ish again for now! I havent been writing in a while and this is what I got so far! Uni has been busy along with the lack of inspiration and my scattered mind above all. I have lots of uni related stuff coming and, its definitely gonna take a lot of time. But... I will try to write as much as I could! And... OH is coming back, I am excited to see our surgeon again!! But, here is a fluffy family fic that just somehow came to me days ago as the moon has been shining so beautiful lately. I apologize in advance for grammar mistakes, and... I hope all of you enjoyed it! A special thanks to all my amazing friends here, you guys been amazing and I appreciate all of it.<3

Tags: @bitchloveskcbaseball , @storyofmychoices @jaxsmutsuo , @mvalentine , @princess-geek , @lahellacute , @kacie-0156 , @simp-for-villains , @annekebbphotography , @brycelahel, @mrsbhandari , @dcbbw , @choicessa , @choices-confessions , @aylamwrites , @fantasyoverreality98 , @drakewalker04 , @baltersome , @thecordoniandiaries , @thundergom @choicesficwriterscreations @starrystarrytrouble, @ohramsey , @kelseaaa , @rookie-ramsey , @bratzlahela , @ohvamsey

LINK TO MY MASTERLIST

525′600 minutes since one Louis Lahela been introduced to the world as a gift weeks before Casey's birthday. It was the greatest gift one could ever give, as they had finally been a family after all these years. They have been trying for years, for the chance to grow a family of their own. To have kids, to be known as parents.

Their life wasn't very much beautiful, but… the world where they had the chance to be together. The world where the medical world has bonded them together through a place named Edenbrook Hospital.

Their journey together wasn't as easy as people thought, they were obstacles before they found their own happily ever after which leads to a new beginning. From the secrecy of his past, her conflicts towards her personal feelings, the arrival of his past, and… several reasons that kept pushing them away. But, one day. It suddenly disappeared as she realizes her true feelings, as he didn't want to push it away anymore. They wanted to make it work, to be together, and…its true, if you are meant to be, nothing could stop you. And, they knew.

Years later, they finally had the chance to expand their small family as one Louis Lahela was born. It was a long procedure as Casey was put in labor for 25 hours. It was a painful process, as the risk was life and death. They knew the risk, they knew there was a chance for death. The small price to pay in the sense of motherhood, as Bryce held her hand through the pain. The sound of crying, as the room went silent. They survived. Casey and their newborn had survived, and… the tears that were falling down his eyes were the ones he never expected to fall. The one, that he knew was coming… but, he never knew that the tears as the moment he becomes a father made him cry. The one moment he never saw coming, as he moved on with his life. The moment where he left his past, to follow his dreams. But, meeting her. He finally found his new dream, to be with the one he loved the most. And, that person is one Casey Valentine. His wife, his soulmate, his best friend, his partner, and… his one true love. Forever and always.

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

'Do you think he is ready for the real world, Bryce?' Casey asked as they were getting ready for their family outing. As they were a family of 3, instead of two.

'He has the confidence of his father, and the brains of his mother. I think he is ready for anything, aren't you?' Bryce uses his skills to make the baby smile, a skill that he mastered for this very occasion.

'That confidence might lead us to two troublemakers in the future, Dr. Lahela.' A smile on her face, as the Lahela family started on their first journey together.

'Then…. We might need to balance it out real soon.' Bryce replied with a wink, making her blush at the thought of expanding. They had talked, and they were both okay with either a big or a small family. And, Casey wanted a huge family. She never had many relatives as it was always been Dan and herself against the world. Bryce didn't voice out an opinion since Casey knows despite everything, he is going to be the best dad in the world. Either way, they are very happy with what they have now.

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

The journey was short, as they arrived at the park. It wasn't as packed, as it was a weekday. A day where both doctors decided to take a day-off on their free days. It was a way Bryce suggested getting closer to him, as every second of the day. Louis is growing up to become his own man, and… honestly, he wasn't ready to bid goodbye to him once he graduates or to leave him in this world once his time was run out. He knows all of their days are numbered, he wanted to spend as much as he could before he was taken away from him.

They decided to settle on a picnic table, as Keiki joined in the festivities with her favorite nephew. Keiki held onto the picnic basket, as Casey held little Louis in her arms who was asleep soundly. They were shocked that he wasn't a fussy baby, as Casey remembers the story her mother used to tell Bryce before. The fact that she was a fussy one, always cried especially in her car rides.

Louis is different. His tears can be heard as he was welcomed to the new world. Besides that, he was known as a very quiet baby as he wouldn't cry.

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

Their day was filled with baby-family fun activities, as they spend their day with each other's company. Keiki somehow has become apart of their small family, and Casey wouldn't have it any other way. Both herself and Keiki would have their girl talks session that either involves planning Louis's outfits or Keiki's life stories about an adolescent Bryce Lahela from long ago. As a bonus, they managed to capture a lot of their moments. All of the good moments that one day they can go back to, during a rainy day maybe.

Keiki excuses herself as the sun finally sets. Leaving the family of three, as the moon is shining above them. They were exhausted from the activities and, honestly…spending time together as a family made it much worth despite their jobs. All of the families were seen before had left, leaving them. The air was cold, as Casey slips onto Bryce's trusty jacket with their little bundle in his arms.

They found out that Louis was indeed a night owl, as he would often be awake during the early hours of the day. And, tonight was not different at all, as he was awake. He was fully awake in Bryce's arms, cooing at the unfamiliar sight which is not his cot or the sight of his baby room. It was entirely different as his eyes slowly follow the view, searching some familiarity until he was met with his mother's emerald eyes. Looking at him gently, as he was taken in her arms.

Casey gazes upwards, as the moon was shining brightly above them. The little boy in his arms jumps excitedly at the unfamiliarity as the parents can sense the love for adventure that was mostly from Bryce. She gave him an all-knowing look, as they are going to be two troublemakers in the house very soon. The small on his face makes her heart flutters as he placed a kiss on her cheek. And one for his little boy.

'Look, Louis look up!' Casey exclaims excitedly as she points the shining moon above them. Louis followed the gesture, as his eyes lands on the round moon above him. He jumps excitedly in her arms, as his gaze was glued to the moon above him.

'It's the moon little boy! It's a huge moon!' Bryce encourages along as Casey held Lil Louis in her arms who is jumping excitedly at the sight.

'Bah bah, moooh!' His voice sounded mimicking Bryce's words as his eyes gazed on the shining moon.

Casey felt herself tearing up a little at these small moments, the moments she heard a lot growing up. The moments where she wanted to have a family of her own when she was in high school. The moment where her parents told her, to not take it granted. These are the moments where she looked forward to. The moments where it was them against the world.

'It was his first time recognizing the moon, I think I know where he gets that side of his from..' Bryce's eyes narrow at her, as Casey was an astronomer lover at heart despite medicine being her life work. He remembers the little stories her mom used to tell him, about Casey's obsession in stargazing, and anything space-related. Her mother always thought that she would become an astronomer of her own, but... medicine was her destined path and she was proud of how far she came as Casey grew up becoming her best self, and now… the best mother in the world in his eyes.

'He might be the future astronomer in the family aren't you Lil Louis?' Casey said giving him kisses on his cheeks and all, as Bryce lets out a small laugh.

'Or.. maybe a surgeon?'

Casey shook her head,

'Nope, no more scalpel jockey's in the house. Anything but that.' Casey protests as Louis claps suddenly at the sight of a shooting star above them. Both of their gazes followed him, as a smile appears on their faces.

It was their first shooting star with Louis, along with the first full moon for one Louis Lahela. Hypothetically speaking. It was a start that they didn't even know they will ever get a year ago. Standing there now, it felt unreal as they were finally a family. Their wish had finally come true, as Casey knows hers had came true a long time ago, as she first laid eyes on one Bryce Lahela, as the rest of her life was history.

The shooting star above them was slowly falling from a far distance, as the family of three stood silently with the happy coos of their little boy was heard as both of them made their wish.

After a few moments, they opened their eyes. As his hazel eyes were met with hers, a wished was made in silence as they decided to return to their home. Little do they know, their wishes had finally come true, moving forward.

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

They were more nights like these until the day fate had taken both of them away. Savoring their last moments together, as he lets out his final breath with Casey by his side, as Louis wished upon a similar shooting star years ago. Wishing to bring them back to the moment before, where he saw his first moon.

The first and the last as a family, he grew up becoming the person who both Bryce and Casey raised him to be; an astronomer with a gold heart. He also had two younger sisters who managed to follow his parents' footsteps, as Kailani followed their father's footsteps in becoming a surgeon whilst Alexandra followed their mother's footsteps in becoming a doctor in internal medicine.

The three siblings stood together, at the same spot years ago. The moon was shining above them, as the memories from their past emerge once more. It has been a routine for the Lahela family, as they would often visit the same spot in a few months for a small reunion or maybe…just a chance to relive the old memories once more, as the three siblings know that both Bryce and Casey are happily looking over them, with a proud facial expression at the two shooting stars above the three of them. Just the way it should be.

THE END.

A/N: Heyyy, its me! And I hope all of you enjoyed it! It was a sweet and fluffy one this time, since I am wanting some fluffy bryce content! But, the story kinda made me teared up especially towards the end, as it ends in a not-so happy way. But, its still a happy ending to me! Writing Bryce and Casey really bring me happiness somehow as all the stories were the fantasies that I had for a long time, and bringing it here. It felt amazing, thank you so much for reading once more! I hope all of you had a nice day! <3

#bryce x mc #bryce lahela #casey valentine #anotherbeingsworldwrites #open heart #imagines #moon #fanfics

43 notes · View notes

emilydocument · 3 years ago

Text

Having a car in New York is a sin and you’re punished for it every day. 6AM the alarm goes off and I’m up and out into the cold to resentfully drive my car around the block looking for available parking on the side without street cleaning. All the other cursed car-owners are up too, in my rear view. We honk at each other, roll our eyes, throw up our hands. The smart people got up at 5AM.

Regardless, I got two parking tickets this week. And a fine for not wearing my seatbelt while parking. I’m drained of money. The devil laughs. I have to laugh.

I try and use my car for the only thing it’s good for: escaping the city on the weekend. I’ve wanted to go to Montauk for some time, inspired by a hazy memory of visiting in high school with an old and long-gone friend, and something special and singular about the rocky end to New York. In my mind, the air is salty, the water a rich navy. LL Bean catalogue vibe.

To get to Montauk you have to pass through Long Island’s sprawl of big box stores and then at some point you cross into the start of the Hamptons, stretches of pastel farm land with the occasional random giant modern art sculpture. The construction is suddenly clean and small and tasteful. I pay for gas (another car punishment) at “Hamptons gas”, a tiny gas station made of wood clapboard where everything is wiped down. Grotesque.

Being in the Hamptons also feels like (is?) a sin. Everything is so manicured, communicating a disgust with dirt, namely the dirt of the city and lower classes. It’s utopia, constructed to look nice from every angle. Here, no visible consequences of exploitation: decay, pain, struggle etc. I am stopped at a red light where on the sidewalk, a man is screaming at his tween son for doing something. The son is not behaving like a man, goofs off too much, never listens, apparently, and he is looking up to the sky with the wide, tolerating eyes of a child being disciplined. He looks around, anywhere but at his flailing father. The costs reveal themselves in private moments.

Eventually, Montauk unfolds from behind roads that snake through woods. You arrive at the top of a hill, and immediately see the ocean in the distance. It’s bluer than I remembered. It is an isolated place, somewhere you have to work to get to, so it selects for small crowds and quiet. The parking is free since I arrived so late (the trip took 2 hours, and I burned through every playlist). It’s 5PM and car sickness mounts.

I brought my camera. Immediately, I want to photograph everything and swallow this memory, wrap myself around it. I spin around capturing the panorama: lighthouse, ocean, rocks, sage green and soft sea grass, the seagulls with their black webbed feet, dipping into the water. I like the families everywhere. We all have our cameras out, all hungry to capture.

There is a specialness about the water there. It feels like the edge of the world, the kind of water you see in a different country where the Atlantic expands. Everything is darker than a regular beach because of the grey rocky shoreline. I walk along it until I reach a secluded piece of driftwood. It’s long and white, clean too, as if carved. I sit there for a while. I hadn’t dressed for the wind and hold my arms around myself.

I stay for the sunset, and the clouds turn pink against the dimming sky. Sometimes, when you are experiencing something profound you want to be witnessed. If someone was here, you could share a memory with them, and the fleeting thing suddenly starts to spread itself out and grow important, durable, a permanent part of something being built up. Instead, I have a camera. I set it on the driftwood and start to film, and then walk out towards the ocean. I turn and wave. When I check the video later, I am out of focus, a yellow blur in the distance. The camera chose to focus on the blades of grass instead, on their gentle dance in the wind.

I realize I haven’t eaten at all, and stop for dinner at a drive-in (which now means someone begrudgingly brings your baggie of food to your car window). I eat a mushy Cesar salad wrap and those seasoned waffle fries you get at the state fair. I always regret the things I buy.

On days like this, I let the loneliness reign. I’m trying to let myself feel more, and also open myself up to things that could bring floods of pain with them. A small act is this road trip, extended time alone.

One long term practice is going on dates again. A few days in, I can feel myself growing dizzy and sick at the feelings dating unearths. I am sensitive to heartbreak, which some people pathologize as “anxious attachment”. I know that I don’t want to feel so split open all the time, that I want to feel “secure” and not bogged down by desire. I am trying not to repress the difficulty of the process, but to let it arrive as a hideous monster and then grow weaker and weaker, less and less real with every appearance.

There are beautiful, interesting people everywhere, especially in this city. I am grateful to get to sit with others, our chins in our hands. We are sharing what we know, at least for now. How nice, a conversation under strung up lights, the backyard of a bar. We talk of international childhoods, the day job, weird and seedy parts of the internet. How sweet, a walk between midnight row houses, arm in arm, heading towards a basement, the music you choose to play someone new.

It’s the periods after and between, when you are washed ashore to the reality and monotony of regular life, when you find yourself all alone again, where the real effort happens. You think about the dates, about new crushes and glowing memories. Chores, another night with your book, a penciled in chat with old friends, a tired day of work. It’s here that I must find a better way of existing, “being”, finding projects that make thoughts expansive and not exclusive, that make me a part of life instead of an observer. I want to be surprised more, flow more, to feel awake, to be able to survive the feeling of the desired just outside of your reach. To get better, all I can come up with is to keep trying the next thing that is nagging you, to return to things that you’re pretty sure you love, or that you are afraid to investigate. Keep nothing hidden away: you are the opposite of the Hamptons.

You’re lonely? You want more and better? You used to be bad? Okay. Drag it out into the daylight and train your eyes directly on the truth. Sob, scream, throw up, whatever you have to do. Let this be a place to start from. Try again. Trip, fall, uncover again and again. And maybe sell your car.

0 notes

wrestlingisfake · 3 years ago

Text

G1 Climax 31 preview

The G1 Climax is an annual heavyweight tournament in New Japan Pro Wrestling. It's typically one of the top events in Japanese wrestling, because the biggest stars in the biggest company try to deliver their best performances. The tournament runs from September 18 to October 21.

All 19 shows (!) will stream live and on-demand at njpwworld.com for 999 yen ($9 US) per month. Because of the billing cycle, you have to pay for 2 months to see it all as it happens, or you can wait till October 1 and try to catch up in one month. Watching all 91 tournament matches (!!!) can be kind of grueling (especially if you're trying to keep up with other wrestling at the same time), so it's not for everyone. But there are bound to be some highlights worth going out of your way to check out.

The G1 is a round-robin tournament, with 20 wrestlers separated into two blocks. Each man wrestles everyone else in his block, and the one with the best win-loss record is the block winner. The winner of A Block then meets the winner of B Block in a final match to decide the winner of the tournament. The winner of the G1 Climax receives a trophy and a contract for an IWGP world heavyweight title match at Wrestle Kingdom 16 in January 2022.

Ordinarily the G1 would be meticulously planned out to ensure the most marketable main event at Wrestle Kingdom, so only a handful of guys have any real shot at winning the tournament. However, the pandemic has thrown off a lot of New Japan's plans. Also, since Wrestle Kingdom has expanded to a multi-day event, more and more wrinkles have been added to the traditional "#2 guy wins the G1 to challenge the #1 guy for the belt" formula. So this year's G1 has a lot more potential to surprise us--whether such surprises will be good or bad remains to be seen.

A Block

Shingo Takagi - The reigning IWGP world heavyweight champion. If he wins the tournament, he'll have the right to choose his opponent for Wrestle Kingdom. If there was ever a year to book the champion to win the G1, this might be it. Amid some tumultuous booking this summer, Takagi came from out of nowhere to capture the title, and they've put a lot of effort into making him look worthy of the honor. So it might be cool for him to run through the field, and choose a challenger that couldn't be here, such as Will Ospreay. However, the smart money is on Shingo losing two or three matches to fall short of winning the block and to set up challengers for other shows.

Kota Ibushi - The winner of the last two G1 Climax tournaments, in 2019 and 2020. Few wrestlers have won the G1 three times, and no one has done three in a row. But if anyone can do it, it's Ibushi. He was crushed by losing the world title right after he unified it, and he's clearly in Shingo Takagi's sights (they'll square off on October 3). If he doesn't win the block, I expect him to get very, very close.

Tetsuya Naito - He won the tournament in 2013 and 2017. Naito started 2021 by losing the IWGP heavyweight and IWGP intercontinental titles to Ibushi, who unified them into the current world title. Since then, he's been on the back burner; if he's going to be back on top in 2022, this is where we'll find out. He's the leader of Los Ingobernables de Japon, and Takagi is a member, so their match on September 26 will be particularly interesting.

Zack Sabre Jr. - One of the IWGP heavyweight tag team champions, Dangerous Tekkers. Sabre's technical wrestling presents a challenge for any opponent in the G1, so he can easily play spoiler, but he's probably going to finish in the middle of the pack. I'm particularly looking forward to Sabre vs. Yano on October 13, because their match in last year's G1 was a fun mix of chain wrestling and dirty tricks.

Tomohiro Ishii - One of the NEVER trios champions. Ishii is never going to win the whole thing but he reliably delivers solid performances throughout the tournament. His matches with Ibushi (September 18), Ibushi (September 23), and Naito (October 9) should all be must-see for hard-hitting, what-the-fuck intensity.

KENTA - He can go, but he relies heavily on stalling and other cheap heel tactics to slow down the action, so it's hard for me to get into his matches these days. I'm sure he'll really cut loose for some of his block matches, but it's hard to guess which ones. My main interest is in seeing him go up against his Bullet Club teammates Yujiro Takahashi (September 23) and Tanga Loa (October 13).

Great-O-Khan - This is his first G1, after doing a run-in last year to help Will Ospreay and form the United Empire faction. O-Khan's got an interesting look, but his in-ring work hasn't been blowing anybody away. This should be the clearest test of his upside--if New Japan thinks he can be a serious headliner, he should pick up at least five wins, and maybe even six or seven. I'm not confident that will happen.

Toru Yano - The KOPW 2021 champion. Ordinarily Yano is the comic relief guy, whose block matches are built around silly spots so that the other participants each a get sort of a night off. However, Yano's recent feud with Chase Owens seems to have reawakened the brawler gimmick he had years ago, so it's not clear which Yano is going to show up for the tournament. Either way, I would expect Yano to pull of some key upsets to throw off everyone's predictions.

Tanga Loa - Loa is making his G1 debut. Since joining New Japan in 2016, he's been almost exclusively a tag team guy. It's not unusual for tag teams to compete in the G1, but Loa and Tama Tonga seemed determined to stay out and focus on the tag division. So his appearance here is a little surprising, and probably indicates that New Japan didn't have a lot of other options. He should do well in the ring, but some guys are going to finish 4-5 or worse, and I think he'll be one of them.

Yujiro Takahashi - Yujiro went 1-8 in last year's tournament, because somebody's gotta lose a lot, and that's his role. He's almost certainly going to to do the Bullet Club bit where either Kenta (September 23) or Loa (October 3) will talk him into laying down for the good of the team, but then he'll refuse at the last second. The most interesting thing about Yuje right now is he's a part of the "House of Torture" subgroup emerging within Bullet Club, but I don't expect that to matter much in his block matches.

B Block

Kazuchika Okada - The winner of the 2012 and 2014 tournament. Okada hasn't held a championship in nearly two years, and that's unlike him. So he's an easy pick to win this block and perhaps win the whole G1. The only problem is that he's got some stiff competition from other favorites like Hiroshi Tanahashi (September 19) and SANADA (October 4). He probably needs to win at least one of those two matches to make it to the finals--if he loses both, I'm not sure a 7-2 run is enough.

Hiroshi Tanahashi - The IWGP United States champion, and the winner of the G1 in 2007, 2014, and 2018. This will be his 20th appearance in the tournament, so he's got the decisive edge in experience. Tana is always going to be presented as a strong contender to win the block. But the only reason to have him win the whole thing would be to do an "aging legend makes one more run at the top" story, and they already did that three years ago. So look for him to have good matches, but don't count on him making it to the finals.

SANADA - He was the runner-up in last year's G1, which was a little baffling because I felt his booking that year was designed to build to a huge victory. He's felt like an afterthought since then. Will New Japan give him a lot of wins to remind everyone he's still a rising force? I'm really not sure.

EVIL - On paper, he's a big deal because he betrayed Los Ingobernables de Japon to win the IWGP heavyweight and intercontinental titles last year. But after Evil lost those belts his stock dropped. New Japan still trots him out like he's a major threat to the top champions, but he just does a bunch of low blows and then loses anyway. I think they'll protect him, because they're going somewhere with this "House of Torture" stuff. But I can't believe he'll win the block, except possibly to troll the audience.

Taichi - One of the IWGP heavyweight tag team champions, Dangerous Tekkers. I was always down on Taichi but he grabbed my attention with his weird kicking contest against Kota Ibushi last year. Since then he's been more fun to watch, although that's mainly been in tag stuff. If he's truly set aside the boring stalling tactics, then his block matches this year could be fun. But he's probably going to wind up right around that 5-4 or 4-5 range.

Jeff Cobb - Cobb should be a big deal, but he's basically the #3 guy in the United Empire (and there are only four guys in the group), and he hasn't had a lot of chances to score big wins. By the time he got to beat Okada a couple of weeks ago, I'd kind of lost interest. This is his big chance to remind everyone he's a beast. It'd be cool as hell if he went to the finals, but I'm not holding my breath on that.

Tama Tonga - This is his first G1 in three years, and before that he always seemed to be over the whole thing, so it's kind of weird to see him back here. Even when he wasn't focused on tag team wrestling, he was always a 4-5 guy, and I don't foresee a big singles push changing that this time.

Hirooki Goto - One of the NEVER trios champions. Goto's career arguably peaked when he was the runner-up to Kenny Omega in the 2016 G1. He should have good matches with everybody in the block, but he's not a game changer, and I don't see him getting to 5-4.

YOSHI-HASHI - One of the NEVER trios champions. Yoshi has always been a loser, to the point that winning the trios title (which has always been kind of a joke) was actually a huge deal for him. Goto, Ishii, and Yoshi have managed to defend the title nine times over 400 days, so it feels like Yoshi is finally on track. But there's a big difference between that and doing well in the G1, against top guys like Okada, Tanahashi, Evil, and Sanada. He could very easily go 2-7 in the block. Just getting to 3-6 would feel like a major milestone, honestly.

Chase Owens - The self-proclaimed "Texas heavyweight champion," for some reason. Owens has been the bottom guy in Bullet Club for years. I don't know if they decided it's time to push him a little, or if they literally had no one else to put in this thing. Not that it matters, since he's in the same "lose a lot" spot as Yujiro. The difference is that Yujiro might win a match to justify putting him in next year's field. Chase might actually go 0-9. So at least it'll be kind of fun wondering when (if) he can post his first win.

#njpw #g1 climax

1 note · View note