#except its your mirror and they just wanna kill you <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[squuote]

hello. it's your reflection calling.

[themultifanshipper]

Weed and sex... in a car. With 3 time Formula 1 World Champion Max Verstappen. What could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: use of drugs, smut, PinV sex, fingering, squirting, Christian Horner

Part 2 here.

Perhaps getting high before an event wasn't the best idea after all. Max had decided to celebrate your birthday with a joint (or two or three) before going to dinner with Christian, Gerri and a boatload of sponsors and higher ups.

Anyone with half a brain could have told you this could only end in disaster but when you and Max were together you were a couple of menaces.

That's why Max's press officer hated that you were always around at the races and usually his plus one at events. She had a hell of a time covering up the "incidents" and "behaviours unbecoming of a formula one world champion"... ha! Yeah right.

Between public indecency and and drunken shenanigans usually leading to property damage, it was a miracle the two of you had never been arrested to be honest.

Well except that one time after his first Monaco win but that's a story for another time.

Whatever, what else are rich people in their twenties supposed to do with their best friends in their free time anyway?

So there you were, in the passenger seat of Max's loaned company car, both high on expensive weed (or so Max said, the bloody cheapskate). The drive was pretty long and you got a rather intense case of the munchies about 20 minutes in so Max decided to stop for gas while you went into the gas station and bought snacks for the road. When you turned your head away from the cashier and saw max, your mouth went dry (and this time not from the weed).

See, this was in the middle of a heatwave (thanks climate change!) and max was wearing a suit. He decided that the best way to cool down was to unbutton his shirt and let his chest get some air. Unfortunately this, plus his sweaty dishevelled hair and the joint he still had in his mouth while he pumped gas, conjured up quite a few lewd images in your mind. You had never seen him look quite this debauched (again, except in Monaco but again, that's for another time). The sight was positively sinful. Or at least it seemed hot as fuck to you but you were high so who knows, either way his appearance was getting you hot and bothered, so you decided to take a picture to remember the moment.

The cashier had to clear her throat loudly to get your attention, and by the time you had payed and left Max had already got back in the car. When you climbed in you checked your reflection in the mirrors. Dilated pupils, check. Redness around the eyes, check. There was no way Christian wouldn't notice, and he definitely would not be happy.

Max's hand suddenly on your thigh brought you out of your thoughts as you looked at him, he looked just as fucked up as you felt.

"There's no way we can go to dinner like this right?" He was panting slightly and looked like he was fighting to stay alive.

"I don't think so, you wanna call Christian and cancel?"

"Nooo he's gonna kill me" He pouted as he took his hand off you to roll down the window to let some air in.

Weirdly you found that you missed its comforting presence on your thigh. And the image of it going higher suddenly entered your mind. That thought made you panic a bit, seeing as you had never had those kind of thoughts about Max. (Well, does it bear repeating? Monaco. Yeah).

Still panting, with his head out of the window like a dog, he groaned. "I don't think I can drive like this. Are you having a weird reaction to the weed?"

"Um... a bit, I guess. I'm hot and uh..." you trailed off and max looked at you

"And what?"

"No it's embarrassing"

"No tell me! What is it"

You looked at him for a moment, the two of you breathing harder than normal, both fighting something.

"Well..." you gulped "I guess I'm like, horny? But, I always get horny when I smoke, this is like... more intense? Different sensations I guess."

Max exhaled and closed his eyes, leaning his head against the headrest.

"Me too" he whispered in an oddly strained way. Then his eyes suddenly snapped open "Wait a minute! Are you telling me you've been horny every time we've gotten high together?!"

Shit.

"Uhhh, yeah?"

You noticed Max was squirming in his seat a little bit.

"Fuck, that's- why didn't you tell me?"

You stared at him. Was this really how the conversation was going to go?

" I- don't know I guess... I thought you wouldn't be interested?"

"Are you serious? I wouldn't be interested?! Even after MONACO?!"

"We're best friends Max, I don't wanna lose that. And we've never actually talked about Monaco so I assumed you wanted to forget it!"

"Forg- Forget it?! It's been three years and I haven't stopped thinking about it!"

"Oh"

"Yeah, oh!"

"Fuck"

"Only if you want to"

"What?"

He looked at you, eyes scanning your face, gaze dropping to your lips.

"We're both high and horny in a car right now, do you want to fuck me?"

You were taken aback slighly, Max was nothing if not straightforward, it was one of the things you loved about him.

"Max, I've wanted to fuck you since we were-"

Thats all he needed to hear before grabbing your hair and yanking your upper body towards him. Given both of your states it was more licking at each others mouths than actual kissing but this had been a long time coming you supposed and you were both too high to care.

You broke away and climbed between the seats into the backseat, winking at him as he gawked at your ass, barely covered by your pathetic excuse for a dress. "You joining me then, or leaving me to take care of myself?"

"Fuck no" He growled and crawled in after you. In hindsight it would have been easier and quicker to use the car doors, but he finally made it and it took you a while to find a position that wasn't too uncomfortable in the small space.

You ended up on his lap, back to his chest while he pulled down the straps of your dress and kissed your neck sofly. He squeezed your tits gently while whispering in your ear. "You know, since Monaco I've been dreaming of the day I would see you like this again. I was starting to think It never even happend. Like it was some kind of religious experience or something"

You giggled. What a sap. "If I had known that's how you felt I would have let you do this years ago. But could you get a move on please? I feel like I'm going to go insane if y-"

He cut you off by shoving his fingers in your mouth and pressing down on your tongue. You moaned at the intrusion and sucked on his fingers to get them nice and wet.

"Good girl"

Your eyes rolled back as you leaned back against him and he chuckled.

"See, I did learn some things in Monaco"

He spread your legs which were hooked over his and trailed his now wet fingers down over your chest and stomach, as his other hand slid your panties to the side. The moment he made contact with your clit you jolted slightly in his grasp. Being horny for so long must have made you extra sensitive. And wet. It didn't take Max long to slide two fingers into you with ease as he crooked them immediately and you whimpered. Every movement, every press of his fingers felt like heaven and you could already feel that you weren't going to last long.

Before you could say anything though, Max's phone started ringing from the floor. He picked it up, fingers still making you writhe on his lap and answered the call, the absolute madman.

Then he pressed the phone to your ear and whispered in the other "Go on then schatje, talk to Christian, I'm a bit busy right now"

"What the FUCK Max where the hell are you?! You were supposed to be here an hour ago! I'm going to kill you when you get here!"

You had to swallow down your moans in order to answer "Um hi Christian it's- it's me!" You squeaked out "Um we won't be making it unfortunately- Max- Max has indegestion and he's very ill and- aaah- he's- um he's-"

You were so close to the edge and Max showed no signs of stopping, you were becoming unintelligible under his skilled fingers.

"This is unacceptable behaviour! What the fuck have you done to him now?! It's always you causing proble-"

The rest of his sentence was drowned out as you came hard around Max's fingers (when did he slip a 3rd one in?!) and you moaned loudly before Max could slap a hand over your mouth.

As you came down the silence on the line was deafening.

"Wh-"

Max interjected "We got high Christian I can't drive!" and hung up. "He won't be calling again I reckon"

You couldn't help but giggle. "Oh my GOD Max we're gonna be in so much trouble! Christian is gonna kill me because I made you miss an important dinner and- oh my god he just heard me have an orgasm that is your BOSS- fucking hell Max what were-"

You hadn't noticed that during your rambling he had unbuckled his pants and taken his dick out, but as soon as he started rubbing the tip against your folds you stopped dead.

He chuckled "Fuck Christian, I wouldn't miss this for the world"

And with that he slid in to the hilt, punching a gasped moan out of you, and started pounding into you deep and fast, somehow reaching all the right spots immediately. The build up to this one felt different. It was faster and more intense, and you were speechless. You realised too late what was about about to happen as you started dripping onto his thighs. Then the flow got heavier and Max swore as his hips stuttered, his own orgasm taking him by surprise. He stopped, still inside you and you felt drained, literally.

You stayed like that for a minute, both of you catching your breaths as you came to the realisation... "Max, fuck! the car!"

"Fuck the car. I'll send the fee to Christian"

You huffed in disbelief. He was out of his mind. But for now it was just the two of you, in this now ruined car, drugs just starting to wear off, and that was enough for tonight, you needed to go home and sleep it off. You could worry about the consequences later.

"So... exactly how expensive was that weed?"

DISCLAIMER DO NOT SMOKE WHILE PUTTING GAS IN A CAR I AM SERIOUS THAT IS SUPER DANGEROUS

ALSO DO NOT SMOKE AND DRIVE

ALSO DO NOT ORGASM WHILE ON THE PHONE TO YOUR FRIENDS BOSS KIDS

[desultory-novice]

There's two things about Dark Meta Knight’s reputation that I just can't understand. One is the Sectonia corruption thing. I just can’t, like, believe it happened that way? (And you know me. I’m usually very open to wild theories.)

It feels to me like suggesting Galacta Knight was responsible for Marx’s mad ambitions because Galacta was that game’s secret boss and also involved with Galactic Nova! (If, however, you happen to legitimately think Galacta Knight was responsible for Marx, please lemme know your HC. I wanna hear 'em!)

The other thing, and I think this mostly surrounds the Sectonia corruption thing(?) is that DMK is some entity of pure evil that's just cosplaying as Meta Knight? 

Dark Meta Knight IS Meta Knight's shadow. He’s literally Meta Knight with the limiters taken off. He's not “EVIL” Meta Knight. He is what lurks inside Meta Knight brought to the forefront, whereas all that makes up our Meta Knight is pushed to the background. Heck, Dark Meta Knight probably knows perfectly well how to be chivalrous and heroic and helpful, but he's as interested in that as Meta Knight is in throwing another military coup.

They're both really so much more interesting when you accept that they are mirror images of each other. It's literally built in to the lore!! XD

I have a lot of HC about the Mirror World being in general more brutal and chaotic than the main verse (”brutal” in a Kirby way, of course) and that DMK is mostly a distant, unfriendly, pragmatic veteran of the “stabs first asks questions later” variety. He’s seen his world’s monarch get corrupted by MULTIPLE cosmic horrors and is not even sure if he’s still IN there anymore, meanwhile, the person who was supposed to be his world’s shining star of hope grew weak without the support of his friends, becoming a coward and a sneak (at least when TAM is going on.) Shadow Kirby is unable to stand up to the evil that has been corrupting their world even if they wanted too. 

No wonder DMK himself lost to Dark Mind.(1)

That he’s still kind of an aggressive, stabby-person after their world was saved I attribute to “lived this way so long he’s not sure how to stop” syndrome. Do you realize both how cute and how sad it is that he’s only able to (badly) draw his sword in the Wave 2 pic? He’s asked to be creative and he can’t THINK of anything except fighting anymore.

:holds DMK gently:

...Of course then I go and make my DMK mute so he can’t defend himself or express what he’s going through to anyone except Meta Knight. (And the more empathic characters/anyone else they taught their sign language to.) Oops! XD

-

-

(1) I also HC that DMK wasn’t being an idiot when he entered the main verse and attacked Kirby, splitting him into multiple copies. For one, he obviously didn’t split Meta Knight into copies when he attacked HIM, so that mirror refraction thing he does is not a power he has no control over.

I think that he purposefully made 3 extra Kirbys, each equally strong as the first, and lured them into the Mirror World, goading them on further and further, using the mystery of “what happened to Meta Knight.” (Notice how he doesn’t go out of his way to stop Meta Knight from interfering? Nor does he try to kill him once he’s got him trapped in the mirror.) 

HIs goal? Dark Mind may have been his “master” but I think he WANTED Kirby to fight Dark Mind. To beat him.

I think his duel with Kirby serves the same purpose as Meta Knight’s duel with Kirby in Adventure. Meta Knight had to know about Nightmare from Dedede, so why did he fight Kirby? To TEST him. DMK did the same thing. “You’re not getting past here unless you prove you can defeat me.” (”Because I couldn’t stop him and if you have to be stronger than me to stand a chance.”)

Frankly, I think the fact that DMK risked death/shattering in that fight makes HIM the mirror world’s hero. Its jerkass hero, but still a hero.

[moreespressoformydepresso]

hi brownie! i just broke my heart over your treaper fics and those boys are in desperate need for a happy ending so i have some time travel fix it ideas-

reaper wakes up on the train with a clear mind and memories of being sang to sleep (to death) by a boy who he had only met in a cage of the capitol's making. it was a hazy blur, something that might have been a dream or nightmare, until he sees the boy again.

treech, reaper knows, and when their eyes meet upon seeing each other in that cramped truck transporting them to the zoo enclosure, he thinks that treech knows him, too.

treech had waken alongside lamina, who he'd missed, who he'd mourned, and thinks he's hallucinating. it wasn't reaper, but he grabbed it with desperate hands, no longer stained with blood as they had been moments before. it takes him a bit longer to work out that he's back to relive the horrors again, but the relief he'd felt seeing reaper, realizing he wouldn't be alone in this repetition, in what could be a second chance, is overwhelming.

so, after a bit of time to comfort each other, they get to talking aobut what to do. treech isn't leaving lamina behind, and reaper doesn't want to abandon dill either, so they're trying to work out something to get the four of them out- except it's not a very big enclosure so someone overhearing their escape plan quickly spirals into all of the tributes plotting to get the heck out. treech and reaper know what's to come, it's just a matter of working out a plan to escape & what point in time would give them the best chance of success.

maybe it's intervening early to keep brandy alive (and verbally tearing arachne a new one while they're at it). maybe it's getting closer to their mentors to get some actual support for their situation. maybe it's during the arena bombing and using that chance to book it out of there. maybe it's just collectively deciding that they're not going to kill each other in the arena bc if the capitol wants to prove they're monsters, then they're going to raise the mirror back at them. if it's that last one, then maybe they all just get a chance to be kids having a found family arc :)

(anyways, love all your fics and fix its! thanks for writing them <3)

Hiii!!

>:D

Oh My God I saw your comments and they made me so happy!! For one because someone actually read it and commented and for two because mission accomplished. I'm glad I broke your heart with the rarepair I created and am the only shipper of :p.

Honestly yeah this would be an amazing explanation for how any given fix-it starts. Two dumbasses in love don't wanna lose each other or their friends again and it spirals. Aside from the obvious coming to terms with all this, the happiness at seeing their lost ones alive again and the brief panic at having to relive this all over again, I bring you a new fix-it AU:

Star Crossed Lovers save the world, but several decades earlier and a whole lot more gay

Treech and Reaper have their reunion and decide it's obvious what they're here to do: Save all the tributes (and unbeknownst to them the whole of Panem). They bring their partners into this and a few other tributes overhear and join. While they briefly discuss escaping, it quickly becomes clear there are simply too many things that could go wrong and too many factors out of their control for it to be viable. Such a large group of kids simply doesn't have the luck for any plan to succeed, and while they'd usually try it anyway... They have a better idea. After all, they have a massive trump card in the knowledge of what this all is about. These games are supposed to be entertaining, and they're a way for the Capitol to convince itself that its better than the districts. Well what better way to shake that up than to play out a love story and make people sympathise with them?

So the two lay the ground works for their "growing romance" so it doesn't feel out of the blue while Lucy Gray steals hearts in the zoo. When Brandy is about to attack Arachne, Treech calls out to her and gives her half of the loaf of bread he just got from juggling, ignoring the Capitol visitors' eyes on him as he gives Arachne a look somewhere between disappointed and disturbed. Then he looks at the rest of his food and sighs slightly before giving it to the tributes that need it the most. That evening they bring the other tributes into it and explain the big events that will definitely happen despite their interference with the timeline. The interviews, the bombing, and the Plinth Prize motivation for the mentors. Oh also Sejanus being trustworthy. They decide to try and show their mentors that the districts are people too in hopes of planting a seed of doubt large enough to get them out of the games in the long run because they're smart enough to realize they don't have actual power here. Just the ability to try and influence those who do. Now, Treech was very uncharitable to Vipsania in the last timeline for very valid reason, but he's had a while to come to terms with it and those minutes (maybe even hours, he's not sure. It's a blur) after Reaper's death gave him some perspective in hindsight. She wasn't great, but a part of her did care. Besides, reliving that week before the games reminded him that it isn't her fault. She was indoctrinated and raised to believe what she did, so while he can hate her for how she treated him he can't exactly fault her. Besides, she did send that drone that saved him from rabbid Reaper's attack in the last few minutes of the actual games. This time, he'll just be a little nicer from the start and see if anything changes or not. Reaper also gives Clemensia a chance, though he still doesn't say much to her and dislikes her. All the other tributes do their best to not be too harsh, but they haven't been through this already so it's a lot more difficult for them.

This set of dominoes wildly impacts the rest of the timeline. For one, Treech giving his food to Brandy made him even more popular than he was originally in the rankings, and it happened far earlier than before too. This means there's a lot more attention on him than last time, which is great because that means his little romance arc with Reaper will be far more known-about. Vipsania is satisfied with this until the first interview between tributes and mentors. She's pleased he knows how to use an ax but when she tells him not to help the "competition" anymore since he's already got the attention he gets upset with her because they deserve kindness and he won't add to their misery. This throws Vipsania for a loop because it destroys everything she's ever thought about the districts. He refuses to answer the questionaire at first but then they properly get talking and oh no he's wormed his way into her heart while being clearly upset with her. Now what? How can she fix this? Clemensia has a similar experience, receiving very little from Reaper at first but inevitably reaching the conclusion that he's a kid who doesn't wanna hurt people and he's right to distrust her. They talk to the other mentors and this means all mentors start paying attention to their tributes, realizing they're just kids and starting to care for them. Naturally this ends up causing a conflict because they all wanna save their tribute but that means the others have to die and they can see that that would emotionally destroy their friends.

They talk to non-mentor students about it too and from there it just starts to spread. Vipsania and Clemensia are particularly worried about the Treaper arc happening, but the two lovebirds continue because they know through the grapevine (people talking outside the enclosure) that they're front page news. They succesfully help avoid casualties during the bombing, saving their mentors from death in the process and causing the two mentors to care even more deeply about them. So much so that they and the other mentors who were saved by their tributes (like Apollo and Diana) talk about it to the news. More front page news!! Gaul is ripping her hair out.

During the interviews, the two steal hearts with their cute love story and then break hearts when Treech starts crying at the mention of the games. just before the end of the interview, Lucky asks Treech how he plans on killing Reaper, since he'll have to if he wants to win, and Treech has been perfectly composed, cheerful and friendly and charming throughout the entire interview but... He still remembers waving away the warning signs just to spend more time with the boy he wasn't allowed to love. He remembers falling down the beams and running through the tunnels, hiding in the booth and tumbling down from the stands. Worse, he remembers Reaper's confused cries, the blade, the blood soaking through his pants and that all-consuming cold spreading through his body. And he knows he has to answer, he knows he has to keep up his charming stage persona and make people love him but for just a moment he can feel the rapidly cooling blood on his hands again, drenching them. No matter how hard he tries, Treech can't stop the tears from falling as he chokes on his words, trying in vain to form sentences before giving up and sobbing brokenly into his hands. Reaper tries to charge onto the stage to comfort him but the peacekeepers stop him. Once Treech is led off-stage and close enough Reaper wraps his boyfriend into a hug and comforts him as best he can. When it's his turn and Lucky asks the same question he asked Treech, Reaper doesn't cry. No, he remains completely calm as he bluntly states he won't.

"Oh? But a confrontation is very possible. What do you plan to do if it's just the two of you left standing?"

"Easy." Reaper said. "I'll kill myself."

Despite not being near a microphone, Treech screams out loud enough for everyone to be able to hear his heartwrenching "No!" from where he's seated with Lamina. Lucky decides to push Reaper and tells him he's being irrational, but the boy is unimpressed and coldly states he'd rather let the Capitol torture him to death than be the reason Treech's family gets him back in a coffin. Lucky tells the audience they'll have to wait and see how true that statement is and they move on to the next interview. When the games come, the tributes are all scared but determined. They've already decided they'll refuse to attack one another, but it's still a very scary situation for all of them. For the first time, they'll be plunged into entirely unknown territory. Until that point they had a general idea of what would happen, but they're gonna interfere with the games so much by not fighting that there's no way to know what will happen. Treech and Reaper make sure to warn everyone that if a big black box comes down from the sky they have to get off the ground or into the tunnels because there will be snakes in it and they won't be friendly. Reaper and Treech continue their little romance to the point of actually staying together by the time day five rolls around. The day they originally spent together, all alone in an empty arena until that fateful last fight. Reaper has to hold his boyfriend through his memories and fears of what's to come.

Meanwhile, all the other tributes also interact with each other hesitantly, trading food and water and stories or even just a small acknowledgement before moving on. At the end of day 5, just as the sun starts to set, the tank drops. Thanks to Treech and Reaper's warning the snakes can't reach any of the tributes, but they do have an effect. Not inside the arena, but outside. The utter lack of deaths has caused the Capitol to implode with debate over the games, and Gaul dropping the tank to "remind these rebel scum of their place" seals the deal. For 10 years they've allowed themselves to believe these kids were killing each other, but Gaul proved that the only thing killing the kids in there is the Capitol. The backlash towards the government becomes so massive and the pressure from the mentors and their allies so great that the Capitol is forced to end the games and get the kids out. When this is broadcast over the speakers in the arena during golden hour, the camera focuses on Reaper and Treech on top of the beams as they stare at each other lovingly before finally kissing.

[arcplaysgames]

slurps tea loudly

okay as I recap this I am gonna try to navigate my emotions

Oh its the Fortune Arcana boss from Persona 3 but not as good! But the whole point is Sae's cheating anyway so it's not supposed to be fair or fun, that's fine. After proving she's cheating, she turns into her monster form.

She looks like if the SAW movies were a person, jesus christ.

Anyway, lets get to the meat of the situation; the big escape.

Even though Sae's treasure was stolen and the Palace Ruler has been defeated, the casino is not coming apart like normal. (Which is because the treasure they're taking is a decoy, but more on that later.)

And finally we return to the cold open, which admittedly: I fucking loved this. I love that nothing is changed at all, it's just the same sequence again, but now you have context for what the fuck is happening. Now the face the player can use their persona makes sense, now the presence of shadows in a 'real' location makes sense, everything comes together.

No matter how I fall on my opinion on this game, I have been convinced that Joker is the best protagonist of any of these games. With the unfortunate exception to the lack of Gay Options he gets, he is an enormous improvement from P4MC in every metric. I know who this character is, even absent my own input, and he's weird and funny and kind of a huge bitch and salty as the Dead Sea.

Huge fan.

This sequence becomes such a victory lap. Like, I'm still figuring out how I feel about the Whole Thing, but this moment of handing the player control and going "Hey, remember this?" and letting them fucking RACE to the end in the hopes of finally figuring out what the fuck is going on, it's a pretty clever trick. /slow claps for the devs

It's still fucking weird that Kasumi is here tho.

Also: Kasumi has the worst mask of everyone in this game by far. Every time i see it I wanna give her literally anything else.

I do wonder if its a Bebop reference. Oh well.

In the present, Sae offers Reverie a plea deal if he gives her the other Thieves. No go.

His beat-up face is so soft and sad, I just wanna hug him close. He needs a bag of peas against his cheek and a hug from dad so bad.

holy shit the fucking pancakes. Morgana was the one demanding pancakes when the team was talking in the hallway before the studio recording and Akechi walked in saying he heard something about pancakes. He couldn't have heard that unless he'd been to the Metaverse before. He's always known what Morgana's saying from the moment everyone met.

HOW DID I NOT NOTICE THAT

That's really fucking smart honestly. Like, I sussed out Akechi because I'm the audience and I know tropes and story structure so it absolutely had to be Akechi. (Also there were a lot of other hints.) But I'm happy there was a hard piece of evidence for the characters that was more concrete than "have you MET him, he's a murderer."

As everyone and their dog guessed, when Futaba grabbed Akechi's phone, she slapped one of her wiretaps on there. That part's easy.

After that is where things get tricky.

The last thing Reverie does as Sae leaves the room is convince her to take his phone with her and to show it to Akechi.

I am completely convinced that no one in this game has met the real Goro Akechi. Not Sae, not Shido, not anyone. That facade is made of four layers of reinforced cement and the windows are all mirrored glass. He's kind of the inversion of Adachi, who looked like there wasn't a since thought bouncing around in his vacant gaze. Akechi is nothing but loud thoughts, but the container is soundproofed.

Also, it occurs to me right here that someone is directing Akechi, someone has a hand on that leash, and I wanna know what the hell keeps Akechi from spinning around and killing that guy.

Anyway, Sae shows Akechi the phone, he's like ?????? whatever? and they part ways.

Akechi waltzes in, deep-sixes the guard with his own gun, and shoots Reverie in the head.

Your hair has never looked worst, Beige Boy.

"A TRULY SHOCKING TURN OF EVENTS," MEMBER OF LEOPARDS EATING PEOPLE'S FACES PARTY SAYS AFTER LEOPARD SHOCKINGLY EATS HIS FACE.

Out of images.

[suna-reversed]

Insatiable desires

Gojo x F!reader x Toji ft. Nanami

art credit: @sk_jkg7 (twitter)

MINORS DNI!!

warnings/tags- gangbang, degredation, spanking, spit play, cum play, oral (m.receiving), manhandling, choking, creampie, fingering, gagging, mentions of bondage

A/N: this is just porn without plot, don’t even try to figure out what timeline it falls into, just assume it’s written in the veeishornyfordilfs-verse😩

You don't exactly remember how you ended up here-

splayed across the lap of the world’s most powerful sorcerer, ass up and panties pushed to the side while one of the most elite fighters of the zenin clan sits across from you, hand lazily palming the massive bulge in his pants. 

“Told you she’s an obedient little thing-” Gojo’s bragging is cut off as a loud moan escapes you. 

“Sure she is.” Toji says in mockery, a dry laugh escaping his throat.

“What’s the point of having her tight cunt gush around you if she isn’t making any of those sweet sounds?” Gojo counters, his hand harshly coming down against your throbbing clit making you choke on another moan around the blindfold stuffing your mouth. 

Gojo’s fingers continue to explore your folds, moving every now and then to spread the wetness across your bruised ass which had been subjected to repeated spanks from both the men just moments ago. You arch your back more as his fingers come right onto your clit, face contorting in pleasure as he starts rubbing circles onto your sensitive bud. 

A loud groan pulls you out of your bubble of ecstacy. 

“Put her on the bed already, she’s dripping enough to fit 3 cocks inside her slutty little hole by now.” 

You tilt your head to find Toji’s piercing gaze fixed onto where Gojo’s fingers meet your juices, his hand pulling his cock free from the elastic of his boxers. You whine needily at the sight of it, making the tip of his cock twitch as a bead of precum dribbles down the side. A sharp slap comes down onto your ass making you wince from pain, tears welling up in your eyes from being teased for too long, 

“Better have the same reaction for my cock too sweetheart.” Gojo sings out, voice laced with a hint of jealousy. 

Toji looks amused as he gets up, not even acknowledging Gojo as he pulls up your body from across his lap, easily tossing you onto the bed like a ragdoll. You look up at him with pleading eyes as he comes to stand at the edge of the bed, his huge member right in front of your face. Even Gojo’s remarks of annoyance are silenced as he grips your jaw, slapping your cheek with his enlarged cock, 

“Do you deserve it?” His voice is deep and commanding as he pulls up your face so that you’re staring right into his eyes. You nod your head rapidly, mouth still gagged. 

Toji bites his lip as he apprehends your tear filled eyes and your drooling mouth. You cough a little when he suddenly pulls out the fabric in your mouth, throwing it to the side, you barely even have the time to take a breath before the tip of his cock is rubbing against your lips, urging you to take him in, 

“Let’s see what kind of sweet sounds she makes when my cum is oozing out this dirty mouth.” 

That’s all the warning you get before his cock is making its way past your lips and hitting the back of your throat. The spit that had built up in your mouth now leaking out the sides and falling onto your tits. It’s filthy and lewd as he grips onto your hair to tilt your head upwards, smearing the mixture of substances drooling out the side of your mouth across your cheek, laughing as tears fall from your eyes. You can feel him getting close, loud moans rumbling from his chest as he fucks your mouth even deeper than before. Your vision is blurry from the tears, no coherent thought in mind except for the feral need of having Toji’s cum down your throat when suddenly, you’re harshly pulled back, a sob escaping you from both shock and desperation as the back of your head hits Gojo’s chest. 

Everything happens in a flash. You barely register the growl that leaves Toji’s throat over the sound of Gojo snickering, and before your know it, the dark haired man is striding towards you, a look in his eyes that makes you want to beg for your life, but he doesn’t even look at you as your body slumps to the mattress. You snap your head behind to see Gojo pinned against the headboard, smirking at the large hand wrapped around his throat. 

Your eyes widen in surprise and heat crawls up your face as he crashes his lips onto Toji’s. Toji’s eyes hold the same expression as you for a second before a loud groan leaves his throat, hand moving up to grip Gojo’s jaw as he pulls away. The arousal that pools in your core as you watch the thick splatter of Toji’s saliva hit the side of Gojo’s lips is almost embarrassing. Gojo looks amused and it seems like they’ve almost forgotten you until he raises his hand, two fingers gesturing you to come closer, which seems to snap Toji’s attention back to you too. You crawl over to them, Gojo’s lips immediately melding with yours, the mix of both their spit coating your tongue. 

“Fuck this- I wanna be inside her.”

You’re being pulled away once again, only this time, angled in a way where you're on your fours, ass towards Toji, nose pressed onto Gojo’s muscular thigh, his cock standing tall against his stomach as he runs his fingers through your hair. You lick a stripe up from the base of his shaft to the tip of his cock, moaning as you feel your folds being spread apart, the tip of Toji’s cock lining up with your slit as he kneads the flesh of your ass. You feel Gojo’s hand pushing your head forward, urging you and you oblige. You struggle to take him in your already fucked out throat, barely halfway through when you feel the burn of a cock stretching your walls. You moan around the cock in your mouth as Toji fully sheaths himself inside of you, the vibrations making Gojo bucks his hips up into your mouth. 

The vulgar sounds of Toji’s balls slapping against your ass as he starts thrusting into your gushing cunt fills the room, overpowering the grunts and groans of the blue-eyed man stuffing your mouth with his dick. Gojo brings his hand forward to fondle your breasts, fingers pulling and pinching your hardened nipples which makes your cunt clench. Toji groans at the movement, strokes getting sloppier as he feels his climax nearing. Both men are bucking into you, using your body to their own pleasure as you lose your balance and fall forwards, mouth still bobbing against Gojo’s cock because of the push of Toji going in and out of your leaking pussy. 

Gojo is the first to climax, holding your head down, nose pressed up against his happy trail as he cums deep down your throat. The peak of your own arousal washes over you as Toji’s fingers move across your abdomen to find your clit, hastily rubbing circles onto it as his cock brushes one particular sensitive spot against your walls. You’re moaning around Gojo’s softening dick as the first wave of an orgasm hits you, tears escaping your eyes from the edging as the coil in your stomach snaps. Toji follows soon after, pumping your cunt full of his seed as he fucks you through both of your orgasms. 

Your body collapses onto the bed as both men pull themselves out, Gojo lazily reaching over the nightstand to throw over his phone to Toji who proceeds to take pictures of your fucked out oozing cunt. You’re panting from the exhaustion as strong arms wrap around you and pull you up to a warm chest, 

“You don’t think you’re done without me having filled you up, do you?” 

His hot breath next to ear makes shivers run down your spine as you shake your head, still too tired to respond as another hand kneads the flesh of your inner thigh, the bed dipping as Toji comes to sit across from you. 

“What the fuck Satoru?”

Your eyes immediately snap open at the foreign voice, both Gojo and Toji’s attention being diverted to the doorway, towards the man in the suit, tie loosened around his throat and an extremely annoyed look on his face. Arguably, it was Gojo’s fault for pulling you into a random room after he had seen you pressed against the wall in some corner, Toji’s lips latched onto the tit he had pulled out of your dress. 

“Ah- I didn’t think the room was occupied.” Gojo says nonchalantly, the side of his lip twitching upwards. 

You knew the ever-observant man would never make such a mistake, making you wonder what he was up to. The vexed look on the man’s face who stared at you from across the room would have made you want to shrink into yourself even if you were fully clothed. 

“But you have been stressed these days, haven't you Nanami? Maybe you deserve a little reward.” 

You yelped as you felt hands spreading apart your thighs, glancing over at Toji to see what he thought of the situation, but his own eyes mirrored the look of the man exposing you to the blonde at the door. 

“I’ll fucking kill you if you ever wreck my room again.” 

There was anger in Nanami’s words, he was stressed and tired from having to work overtime on today’s mission and to come home to such a mess was the last thing he expected. Still, he found his cock twitching against the restraint of his pants as he looked at your bare pussy, your eyes holding a look so innocent as if you weren’t just getting fucked by two men. Maybe he did deserve a reward after all, he found himself thinking as he strode towards the bed, pulling his tie loose. 

You couldn’t deny that the man was attractive, his aura both dangerously calming and commanding as he apprehended you carefully, his hunger-filled eyes raking over your figure with a look that said he was going to devour you whole. He didn’t put away his tie, instead tying it up into a makeshift knot and you felt yourself getting wet once again as you realised what he was planning. 

Well, you were always curious about wanting to get tied up and fucked anyways. 

[itsallyscorner]

request:

maybe like a part 2 where the reader was a singer!

but maybe like everyone in the marvel cast goes to the sweetener world tour to suprised them n congratulate them?

Thank you for the request, hun! I appreciate you for reading my other stuff and suggesting a part 2! Now that I think about it, I might make the whole singer thing into its own series of imagines and headcanons! Just a thought🥰 Happy reading!❤️

A/n: I’ve never been to an Ari concert, so I don’t know the set list, but enjoy my loves❤️

💌.

Sweetener

(She’s so pretty ugh)

You looked at yourself in the mirror. You leaned forward making sure your makeup was all good and to check if your lipstick has smeared onto your face.

“Everything good, hun?” Your makeup artist, Perrie, chirped from behind you. You took a step back, getting one more look.

“Yes Ma’am.” You turned to her and she was holding up the familiar bottle of setting spray.

“One more spray for good measure.” She motioned for you to close your eyes and you did. You breathed in through your nose as you felt the vibrations of the arena. The mix of the music playing out on stage mixed with the cheering of your fans added to your adrenaline.

The tour was finally at Inglewood, California, the last stop of the Sweetener World Tour. You had been traveling around the world for the past 10 months, performing every night in a different country or state. As tiring as it sounded, you absolutely loved the experience. Not only were you traveling and seeing new places, you were meeting your fans from different countries and doing what you loved. After 101 shows and 3 tour legs, it was finally coming to an end. The ending of tour was always bittersweet. You’ve been traveling with multiple people and crew who have grown to be another family. You were going to miss them so much but it was time for you to go back home to your real family. Not only have you missed your parents and siblings, but you also needed the rest. 10 months of nonstop traveling definitely took a toll on you. But nonetheless, it was all worth it.

“All done!” You opened your eyes to see Perrie smiling at you.

“Thank you so much!” You pulled her into a hug as your eyes began to water. You groaned playfully and tilted your head back.

“I’m gonna miss you doing my makeup everyday. Ugh, I haven’t even gone out on stage yet and I’m crying already.” You laughed through tears as Perrie began to protest.

“(Y/n), I swear if you mess up your makeup, you’re never going to hear the end of it. Cry later!” She laughed as she tried to get you to stop the tears from falling.

She gripped onto your arms and yelled, “NO TEARS LEFT TO CRY REMEMBER?” You bursted out laughing at her reference. You waved your hands at your eyes and when they finally felt normal, you looked straight.

“Okok, I think I’m good.” You released a breath as you smiled sweetly at her, “I love you!” You giggled pulling her into another hug.

“I love you too, darling. Have fun out there, you’re going to do amazing like always.” She squeezed you tight before letting you go. Victoria, one of your dancers and friend, peaked her head into the room.

“You ready? They’re waiting for you in the circle.” She informed you holding a hand out. The circle was like a pre-show ritual you had backstage with all the dancers and crew. You took her hand as you all walked out the makeup room. Your heels clicked against the floors, echoing in the hallway. The closer you got to the stage the louder the fans got and the stronger the vibrations got.

The circle was already gathered with all the dancers and crew. When Scott, another one of your dancers and friend, noticed you he began to cheer. Everyone followed along as you entered the circle. You were tucked in between Scott and Brian, who were twins. The two have been your dancers since the beginning and still are how many years later. You were truly grateful for them and everyone who was included in your Sweetener family.

“Damn. Last show ya’ll!” You began causing them to all cheer. You waited till they quieted down, shyly laughing, before continuing.

“Um, I don’t wanna get all emotional and shit right before going on stage. I’m gonna look like a mess out there with my mascara running down my face. Perrie I’m sorry!” You laughed. “I just wanna say, thank you to every single one of y’all. You guys have been the most fucking amazing people to work with. You guys have been working day and night to make the show as spectacular as it is and I love you all so much. You guys are my family and I can’t wait to write another album so I can tour with y’all again. I just want to hug every single one of you, you guys mean so much to me. Like literally, from the bottom of my heart I love all of you so much. I know I’ve said that like multiple times, but I really mean it. Y’all are gonna get a fatass check after this.” You finished making everyone laughing again. By now a few tears have made its way down your face. You even saw a few people’s eyes well up.

You laughed as you heard a chorus of “I love yous” as everyone squeezed in for a group hug.

“Alright! That’s enough crying, let’s get this show on the road!” You cheered to help everyone from crying. Everyone moved out the circle and got into places.

Before you can get in place, Perrie pulled you aside to fix up your makeup. Your stylists began smoothing out your skirt and making sure your knee high boots were securely on. Next was to get your earpiece on while one of the stage hands gave you your mic. From backstage you could hear the intro to the concert playing causing the fans to scream louder.

You got into place as you got the signal to start singing. You sang the opening lyrics of Raindrops (An Angel Cried) and began to smile as your fans sang along.

The platform began to move up when you finished and the beat of God Is A Woman began to play. You were now on the stage, the sea of white lights looking back at you. The adrenaline was still running through your veins. You performed the song, acing every move of the dance you’ve learned 10 months ago.

When the last note of God Is A Woman played, all the lights turned off except for the red lights on the stage.

“INGLEWOOD!” You yelled into your mic, your fans cheering even louder than before. You shared an excited smile with Brian.

“Welcome to the Sweetener World Tour!” And with that the opening notes of Bad Idea began to play, the show finally kicking off.

You were in the middle of singing R.E.M which was part of Act 2 of the concert. You moved towards the pit to see familiar faces beaming up at you.

“Boy, you’re such a drea— oh my god!” You squealed as you saw the pit full of your Marvel cast mates. You saw all the Chris’, both of the Tom’s, Robert, Scarlett, Elizabeth, almost everyone you’ve worked with in Marvel was there. You got down to your knees to touch their outstretched hands.

The fans screamed as the camera from stage panned down to the pit where all the actors were. You took the mic away from your mouth and leaned down to them.

“What are you guys doing here?” You asked them through the loud arena.

Scarlett, Brie, and Lizzie were the nearest to the stage.

“We’re here to surprise you! It’s your last show and we wanted to be here for it!” Scarlett yelled over the track that was playing.

“We’ll catch up later, keep going!” Lizzie urged you to continue the concert with a toothy grin.

You held onto Brie’s hand as you sang to them, “Inglewood let me hear ya’ll! Excuse me um...”

“I LOVE YOU!” The fans sang back to you, including your cast mates. You dusted your knees off and continued to walk around the ramp. Before you could leave, you sent an excited wave to Brie and the rest of them.

~After the show~

You hopped off the platform that brought you down from the stage and were greeted by a bunch of congratulations and cheering. You and your dancers shared another group hug.

“(Y/N)!” You heard a familiar voice yell. You follow the voice and see Anthony waving at you with his infamous grin. He was accompanied by the rest of the cast behind him. You run towards them and jump into Anthony’s outstretched arms.

“I’m so sorry, I’m sweaty, but I’m so happy to see all of you!” You wrapped your arms around Anthony’s neck as he spun the two of you around. He let you go and you were suddenly being pulled into hugs by everyone.

When you got to Robert, a proud smile was on his face as he cradled your face, “Sweetheart, that was amazing. You’ve outdone yourself.” He pressed a fatherly kiss to your forehead and pulled you into a hug.

“Thank you.” You laughed, your eyes welling up with tears once again. Next was Chris (E) who playfully shoved Robert.

“Stop it, you’re hogging her! Let me hug (y/n)!” He childishly whined. He gasped when he saw your eyes watering.

“And you made her cry! C’mere.” His arms enveloped around you as he hugged you tightly.

In your ear his whispered, “You absolutely killed it.”

You thank him and move on to Scarlett who already had her arms out for you, “Surprise!”

“This was your idea?” You asked her as she hugged you. A cheeky grin quirked on her lips.

“Maybe” she teased dragging the ‘e’. You hugged her again as she laughed into your shoulder.

“Thank you, Scar. This means so much.”

“It’s not a problem, honey. We just wanted to see you together while you did your thing up on stage.”

You were now full on crying through a smile as your Marvel family showed you mass amounts of love. You stumbled into Tom (Holland) who instantly grabbed you into a bear hug. Tom’s actually seen your show in London with his friends and brothers, so this was his second time seeing you perform.

“You know what’s so crazy?” He asked you leaning down to your ear so you can hear him.

“What?”

“It’s literally just as great as it was in London. Like everything looks the same, you sound exactly the same, everything! The show was fantastic!” He looked at you with wide eyes with so much amazement on his face.

You laughed at him and patted his shoulder, “Thank you, Tom.”

Suddenly there was a commotion a few feet away from you. You saw Robert standing on one of the cases your crew used to store equipment in.

“ATTENTION EVERYONE!” When everyone backstage was looking at him Robert sent them a sweet smile and was handed a megaphone.

“Alright, so I gotta say, (y/n), you definitely know how to throw a show. Everyone who was part of this tour, your hard work pays off because that show was the most fun I’ve had in a while! (Y/n), you keep surprising us everyday with your talent and I hope you get to do more of what you love in the future. As my way of thanking you all for throwing such an amazing night, I want to take out every single one of you for dinner! I just rented out a whole restaurant just for all of us and I hope to see all of you there!” Robert said into the megaphone. A round of cheers and claps were heard from everyone at the announcement. As everyone began to file out, you were being called to get out of your costume.

Before you can turn to leave you hugged Robert and looked at all your cast mates who showed up for the night.

“Thank you guys for being here, it really means a lot.” You sniffled, wiping a tear from your face.

“And you, I can’t believe you rented out a restaurant for my crew, thank you Robert.” The older man just waves you off as he slung his arm around your shoulder.

“Not a problem, sweetheart. We wanted to be here and we are all so proud of you, you’ve come a long way, (y/n).” He gave your shoulders a squeeze.

“Now run along now, you still need to get changed and I’m starving. Go.” He teasingly turned you towards your stylists. You rolled your eyes as you waved at all of them.

“We’ll see you at the restaurant!” You heard Brie yell after you. You quickly turn back, “OK, I LOVE YOU!”

The further you got you heard Evans scream, “I LOVE YOU TOO!” You turned down the hall, your laugh echoing against its walls.

That was definitely one way to end a tour.

[purposelynana]

What Did I Watch: #25

China we need male lead like this, not some morally good, full of bullshit like millions of male lead in the sea of Chinese dramas. We need bad guy to win. We need a lovable villain to win.

Didi never looked so good.

Cang Lan Jue is a 36-episode drama that has been aired on Iqiyi. The story itself is kinda your typical xianxia, except the fact that it has Dongfang Qingcang. Any other xianxia which doesn't have Dongfang Qingcang couldn't stand a chance. Dongfang Qingcang is everything that I could asked for from China. He's bad and he was proud of it. He didn't come as preachy as any other male lead character in a lot of xianxias. And it felt so great to finally, to finally, have some decent common sense on a fcking Chinese drama.

And Dylaaaaannnn is just awesome. After the horrendous Miss The Dragon, he deserved this role. I mean, I just know it from back then when he stared in Meteor Garden. He can act. Just give him a chance. Give him a good story. Give him a good director. He'll astonish you.

The ending. Oh god the ending is such a perfection. I could have asked more but then I don't wanna be consumed by greed. It's already as good as it is. I don't want to change anything. Hands down one of the best xianxia of all time.

I heard good things about The Eclipse and I started to watch it while making this post. After 3 episodes, I conclude that... okay this is my problem with GMMTV. They always know how to make an edgy story with high concept but the execution is just blah. I'm not talking about the script or the acting. Both First and Khao are such a good actors. The script is well it's early to tell whether it'll end up a garbage or gem.

For a story that contained theme within idealism, exerting rules, and acting as a mirror to our broken government, it was sound and look cheap as heck. I appreciate how the filmmakers tried to convey this message but certain scenes felt like a laughable. Especially the one scene where the students repeating (or chanting) their school rules. It was shot inside of a room with bunch of kids, medium close up Khaotung trying to make sense any of that. It felt constrained, limited and small. Okay it seemed cultish but the way it shot, it sent a message to me that the urgency of Khaotung's character to avenge his uncle is none. He didn't feel like he was alone or he himself against the world. I wish it was shot outside, using wide angle and adding a bunch of extras. For school that big, it was weird just to see not more than 20 kids hanging around school. And I know Bangkok is a small city but at least can you just figure it out a way to find a set which not used by 10 other BL dramas. God.

In addition, the post-production that they did seem hasty. Editing sometimes get a bit weird. Sound mixing definitely weirder than anything I've ever encountered. Lastly, whoever trying to kill me by putting background music in every scene. Don't you know, the art of silence? I felt like watching a music video instead of a series.

I want to love the series because well you know what they said, queer revolution is definitely happen at the very moment. Isn't that great to watch something that has been reflecting on our society? But it was full with metaphor in which there are so many explanatory post around Tumblr dedicated to discuss about this. It felt to me such an over-simplification to everything. There was no reason why the student revolution needs to happen on the first place. Except the fact that they hate to wear uniform. (Funny enough it's only 3 people protest). The bullying shown only after they protested. The movement shown only within those 3 people and obviously the main character, whoever Khaotung's character is. It felt like the movement wasn't touching any other characters. In some other time, it did resemble to a painting of French Revolution, Liberty Leading The People. You put it on the room, people may take a look at it, but I guess if you're not nationalist enough or need its content to be explained, you just stand there and do nothing about it. The Eclipse's s metaphors needs to be explained in order people to appreciate what it's trying to do. Well if you've got 1 hour and your audiences still didn't understand a shit, that's sucks.

It's not big enough. It's not bold enough. Unlike its predecessor Not Me, The Eclipse as this was written, has the potential but still not paying off. Maybe in later episodes, it will end up good. Because I want it to be the best version out there, not just half-heartedly series which design to be forgotten.

[melancholyshadow]

a monday in new york city || b. barnes

one & two 

summary: another date with bucky, but this time its in new york city with some familar faces. 

pairing: bucky barnes x female!librarian!reader

warnings: some ANNOYING as cliches that i just love, swearing 

an: okay so i know its been a week, but hey i’ve been busy! this series is going to have one more part! and it’s going to be spicy, but that is gonna take awhile because it takes a lot for me to write spicy stuff. also, this series doesn’t take place in a specific part of the mcu timeline, i just pick the characters i want and throw them together. the next part of my steve series should be out soon, like within the next couple days! enjoy!!! <3

“You should meet me in New York City tomorrow.” 

You and Bucky were talking on the phone, no Facetime or Skype, because this man still had a flip phone. After knowing about his history, this did not surprise you. Funnily enough, you didn’t actually know he had a phone until about two weeks ago. You proceeded to laugh at him for about thirty minutes when he pulled out the phone. It had been almost three months since he walked into your library for the first time. And the two of you had spent nearly everyday together, of course, except for those days he was gone on ‘obligations.’ 

“Like a date?” You asked, rolling onto your stomach, and moving the phone from between your ear and shoulder and onto your pillow. You heard him chuckle, and your cheeks warmed up. “We could call it that.” It was a Sunday night, and tomorrow was a holiday so the library would be closed, and for once, you had a day off. And you were over the moon about spending it with Bucky. 

“What do you have in mind?” You said, propping your head up on the palms of your hands. “Well, before I ask you, promise me you won’t freak out.” This peaked your interest. “Well what is it?” You pushed, “Promise me, first.” He was being stubborn. “Fine.” You sighed. “Well, the Starks are throwing a party tomorrow night…” He started, The Starks..? Like Tony and Pepper Stark? “...for our little group and some S.H.I.E.L.D agents, and he said I had a plus one, so of course, I want to take you.”

You were speechless, and you could feel the nerves creeping up from your stomach, all the way up to your throat. “Hello?” He asked, making sure you were still there. “Yeah, yeah, I’m still here. Just processing.” You muttered, now completely sat up in your bed. There were a few more moments of silence, then you spoke. “So you want me to go to a party thrown by Tony and Pepper Stark, and not only that, but a Stark party that will be mostly all your superhero friends?” You asked more rhetorically than anything else. “Yes.” He said confidently, which for a moment made your nerves waiver, but only for a couple seconds. 

“If it’s any consolation, I really want you to come, and everyone really wants to meet you.” Everyone? Who is ‘everyone’..? Like the Avengers? They knew about you? Holy shit. You couldn’t think about that right now though. You broke it down in your head, trying to simplify it. Bucky really wanted you to go, and you really didn’t have a reason to say no, other than being very anxious about the whole thing. “You know what, sure.” You were finally able to get out the words. “Wait, really?” He asked excitedly. That made you feel good, that he was so excited for you to meet his friends. 

He gave you all the details, adding to the nerves creeping up your throat. “I’m gonna get some sleep.” Bucky muttered at around 11, which was late for him. “I probably should too.” You said with a yawn. “Goodnight, Doll.” He said in a raspy tone, followed by him yawning as well. “Goodnight, Buck.” You said sleepily, about to hang up the phone, but then he spoke again. “And doll, I promise you won’t regret saying yes.” And with that, the phone line went dead. 

It was a restless night, you tossed and turned for a couple hours, thinking about all the ways you could fuck up on this date. The last time you checked the clock it was just after one in the morning. When you did finally wake up, the sun was beaming straight into your bedroom. Warming up the room around you, you felt a thin layer of sweat covering your body, but that honestly could have been from the nerves. The first thing you did was grab your phone, and check if you had any text from Bucky, and you did. 

It was a simple ‘good morning, doll,’ the same text he’s sent you every morning since you guys traded phone numbers. You sent him a similar text back, and rubbed the remaining sleep from your eyes. After contemplating staying in bed for awhile longer, you decided against it and figured you could start the day, as it was already almost ten in the morning. 

After a warm shower, which consisted mostly of shaving and washing your hair, you decided to make a quick breakfast. While you ate, you contemplated on what to wear. Bucky said it was more on the fancier side. You had a couple ‘fancier’ options, but not a closet full. Breakfast was done and dishes were clean, so now it was time to try on all your options. By the end of you trying on almost everything in your closet, you decided to keep it simple but elegant. It was a black satin slip dress that fell right above your knee, and the shoes were a pop of color and definitely brought the outfit together. 

As you pulled into the parking lot of the hotel, you felt those same nerves creeping up the back of your throat. The lot was full of cars, but you were able to get a spot closer to the front. This party looked like a lot more than a ‘little group and some S.H.I.E.L.D agents.’ After sending Bucky an ‘I’m here’ text, you gathered your phone and some little extras into your clutch. While you did some last minute touches and repositioning of your hair in your rear-view mirror, there was a small knock on your driver-side window, making your entire body jump, head snapping towards the noise. 

Your eyes landed on Bucky, who was practically doubled over on laughter. After getting in a good laugh, he pulled open your door, giving you a hand to step out more smoothly, which you swatted away and rolled your eyes at him. Once he got a good look at you, his face shifted. The dress you wore accentuate parts of your body that your everyday clothes certainly did

not. And you were not the only one who noticed. You could feel Bucky’s eyes on your as you walked in front of him to navigate through some of the cars. 

Once there was enough room for both of you to walk side-by-side, you felt his metal hand slide along your lower back, coming to rest on your furthest hip. His fingers rested on your hip bone, with each step you took, his hand followed the curve, giving it a small squeeze. “You look amazing, doll.” He whispered into your ear, making a layer of goosebumps cover your arms. “So do you, Buck.”

You were glad you wore black, because of course, so did Bucky. He wore a black undershirt, with a black blazer with leather lapels, and of course black dress pants. The two of you looked like a pair, which you liked. The two of you approached the front door of the hotel, pulling his arm away from your body, making you feel empty. He whisked the door open for you, letting you walk in before him.

The lobby was pretty empty, just a receptionist and a couple security guards standing around. You could hear talking and laughter from behind a couple pairs of closed doors. You followed Bucky towards one of the security guards, who was standing in front of one of the sets of doors.  “She’s with me.” He explained, as the two of you approached him. Those words made you giddy, and you smiled at the man. “Alright, Sergeant Barnes.” The guard said, pushing the door open for both of you. 

“Oh, Sergeant Barnes, huh?” You joked, wrapping one of your arms around his metal bicep. He tensed up a bit, but then laughed, “I like the way you say that.” Then added a wink. You looked away from Bucky, and towards the crowded, very crowded, room. Bucky definitely underestimated the amount of people would be here, but it was a Stark party after all, so you weren’t surprised. Bucky and you walked towards the bar, taking a seat, which you were thankful for, your feet already killing you. 

The two of you spoke for awhile, sipping on your drinks. You weren’t sure why Bucky drank, since he physically could not get drunk. But if the drinks were free, you would be drinking too. “Hey Buck, there you are.” A man approached you two, placing a hand on Bucky’s back. Both of you turned your head, eyes landing on a familiar face. “You must be (Y/M/N).” He smiled, sticking a hand out for you to shake, so you did so. “Hello, Steve.” You matched his smile. 

After the three of you bantered back and forth for a few moments, Steve spoke again, “Well if you two want to join us, most of us are sitting on the other side of the bar.” He explained pointing to the side of the room. Following the direction of his fingers, you saw a group of some more familiar faces. You knew most of their faces from news articles, but knew their names from Buck’s stories. It was Natasha, Bruce, and Wanda. “Wanna go?” You heard Bucky ask you, placing a hand on your knee. “Of course!” You said, perking up. Going over there was the last thing you wanted to do, because you already knew this was going to be awkward. 

Steve led as Bucky followed him through the crowd, pulling you by your hand. Maneuvering through the people, ‘sorry’ and ‘excuse me’ passing your lips every so often. “I’m back…” Steve said, “...and I brought friends.” His use of the endearing term ‘friend,’ made you lighten up a bit. After some, not so awkward, introductions, they all started talking, and you happily listened. Your stories could never match up to any of theirs, so you didn’t even try. “Do you want another drink?” Bucky asked, noticing your empty glass. “Yeah, sure.” You smiled, he grabbed the glass out of your hands. He left your side, walking to meet the bartender who stood closer to the middle of the bar. 

“So (Y/M/N), has Bucky read every book in your library yet?” Natasha asked, but by the way she emphasized the ‘your’ in her sentence, you couldn’t tell if she was implying an innuendo, but you decided to keep it literal. “Ya’know, he actually tends to stick around the romance section, his favorites are the damsel in distress ones.” You joked, placing the back of your hand on your forehead, closing your eyes like you were fainting. This got a laugh out of the group, making a small bit of confidence grow inside you. “What’re you guys laughing at?” Bucky asked, placing the fresh drink in your hand. “Nothing.” You said, pretending to lock your lips, making the group laugh again.

After a few more drinks, you had stopped feeling so tense and started loosening up. You started talking with Natasha and Wanda, while Buck, still nearby, spoke with Steve and Bruce. The three of you were sharing some of your dating horror stories. That was until the DJ started playing some more upbeat music, Natasha immediately stopped and looked between you and Wanda.

“Do you guys wanna dance?” He asked hopefully, wrapping one of her hands around yours, and Wanda’s, wrist. “Sure!” You exclaimed, which made Wanda agree. The three of you left the bar, making your way to the large dance floor in the middle of the room. There were a good amount of people on the floor, and everyone was in their own worlds. It took you a while to get into it, but when the DJ played a song you knew all the words to, it was over.

The three of you danced in a circle together. You danced similarly to the day Bucky caught you dancing at the library. Eyes shifting from open to closed, hands running up and down your body, hips moving side to side, fingers running through your hair. You felt eyes on you, and you looked towards Bucky. He had a green beer bottle pressed to his lips, not sipping just sitting there, like he was frozen. His eyes followed every curve of your body as it moved. Knowing that he was watching you made you want to move even more, Natasha and Wanda matching your energy level. 

After saying all your goodbyes to everyone, and Natasha drunkenly inviting you to one of her and Wanda’s girls night, Bucky walked you to your car. “You really shouldn’t drive.” He insisted, grabbing the keys you had hanging around your finger. You definitely weren’t drunk, but more like buzzed. “I’m fine.” You insisted, leaning against the side of your car, trying to get any weight off your feet. 

“Stay the night with me.” He inisited, both hands resting on your hips, and his forehead resting on yours. You debated back and forth in your head, well the best you could in your buzzed state. “Fine.” You said, trying to sound reluctant, but you were the opposite, but he couldn’t know that. “But, I need to leave by 7:30 tomorrow morning!” 

The drive was short, no longer than five minutes. “Now don’t make fun of me, as you know, I don’t spend very much time here.” Bucky explained, hand resting on the doorknob of his front door. “Oh shut up, I’m sure it’s fine.” You laughed, placing your hand on his and turning the doorknob. He stepped in first, flipping on the light switch. Your eyes scanned over the viewable part of the apartment,”I was right, you just need to do some major decorating.” 

Bucky walked off as you practically ripped your shoes off your feet, sighing in relief. Leaving the foyer and stepping into the living room, you searched for Bucky and he was standing in the kitchen. So you snuck up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist. “Hi.” You mumbled, eyes fluttering closed and cheek pressed against his back. “Hey, doll.” He muttered back. 

You felt Bucky raise both his arms, and you heard some shifting, so you assumed he was searching for something in his cabinet. You heard what sounded like a pill bottle, and he shook some of them out into his hand. “Here take these.” He grabbed one of your hands, placing two small, circular pills in your hand. It was some form of Advil, you could tell by the familiar red color. 

Pulling away from him, you placed the pills into your mouth and he handed you a glass of water. “Thanks.” You said, taking a gulp of the water. “But I’m not gonna be hungover.” You insisted, placing the glass into his sink. You could tell he didn’t believe you, but he just smiled.  “Let’s go get you some comfier clothes.” 

“These are not gonna fit.” You called from the other side of the bathroom door. Bucky had given you a shirt and some red flannel pajama pants. The shirt was fine, you wore big shirts quite frequently, but no matter how tight you pulled the drawstring, the pants fell down to your thighs.  You peaked your head out from behind the door, and Bucky was sitting on the edge of the bed. “The shirt is pretty long on me, is it weird if I just don’t wear pants?” You asked him. He shrugged, “I don’t think so, as long as you’re comfortable.” He smiled. You opened the door all the way, and handed him the red pants, and he tossed them on the opposite side of the bed. 

“Well, It’s almost one in the morning, you should get some sleep.” He stood up from the bed and walked towards his closet,“You can have my bed, and I’ll sleep out here.” He pulled out a pillow and a sheet from his closet. “What, don’t wanna sleep with me, Buck? I see how it is.” You giggled, acting like you were upset, and rolling your eyes. 

“No-no, I-Buck, I’m kidding.” You cut him off, laughing at his sudden awkwardness. “I didn’t want to assume.” He finally muttered out. “I guess I don’t mind sharing a bed with you.” Continuing your joke, and slipping under the comforter. Engulfed by the smell of Bucky, which added another level of comfort. He pulled open the dresser once again, grabbing a shirt and some pajama pants, leaving you to go change in the bathroom. 

You scrolled on your phone, setting multiple alarms to make sure you woke up on time tomorrow morning, then placing it on the bedside table. Letting your eyes fall closed, you turned so that your back was towards the bathroom door. Without opening your eyes, you heard the bathroom door open, and then the lights flickered off. 

There was some quiet shuffling and you felt the bed dip beside you. Your eyes reluctantly opened, and you were greeted by the sight of Bucky’s back. Without thinking, you placed your hand on the arm that wasn’t tucked under his body, pulling at it softly. He rolled inward, now facing you. There was a sleepy smile on his face, and he blinked slowly, desperately trying to keep his eyes open. You placed a hand on his face, thumb softly running over the stubble on his cheek. His eyes finally shut, face full of content, the corners of his lips still upturned. Wiggling closer to him, “If we cuddled a little bit, I won’t tell if you don’t.” You said, letting some excess air out of your nose, as a laugh. “I know we aren’t dating, but…” Your voice trailing off.

“Yeah, about that…”

[eideticmemory]

TWO GHOSTS | MATTHEW G. GUBLER

It’s been 15 years. 15 years has to be long enough . . . right?

Set 15 years after the end of Ever Since New York, so give that a read first!

Word Count: 3.1k.

Warning: Usual angst, porn, and poor communication amongst characters.

SOUNDTRACK:

Maps - Yeah Yeah Yeahs

Stop the World, I Wanna . . . - Artic Monkeys

Space Song - Beach House

May 16, 2002.

New York City, New York.

“[y/n] . . .” Claire whispered. “Honey, c’mon . . . just, try to sit up.”

You couldn’t. You just, couldn’t. It was as if your entire body was filled to the brink with sand — coarse, wet, heavy sand — and it was weighing you down, keeping you anchored to Claire’s bed. Your head rested in her lap, and your fist gripped, tightly, onto the fabric of her jeans — which were stained with your tears. Her hand ran along your spine, and her arm wrapped around you, protectively. She wanted to shield you, she wanted to keep you safe, happy. She wanted to distract you from your luggage laid out on the floor.

But, the pressure of her body, coddling you, God, it just hurt. Everything hurt, and you couldn’t get it to stop, and you couldn’t stop sobbing, ugly sobbing, snot running down your lips.

“Cl—Claire . . .” you whined. “I . . . I . . .” your hand flew to your mouth, muffling a loud and painful sob that echoed throughout the room.

“I know, I know . . .” she cooed, kissed the top of your head, and ran her hand over your hair. “It’s okay, don’t try to talk, just rest.”

Claire held you, all day and all night on May 16, 2002. She held you until you lost your voice, until you cried yourself to sleep, and after that, she still held you.

Because it was May 16, 2002.

And May 16, 2002 was day one without Matthew Gubler.

After crying yourself to sleep that morning, you awoke alone in Claire’s bedroom that night. You rubbed your tired and sore eyes, and sat up, surprised to see the sun had gone down. Your mouth felt dry, and your throat was sore. Claire had left you a bottle of water, and you chugged it in one gulp. You stood from the bed, slowly and groggily, stumbling your way through the boxes of clothes, and decorations that Claire hadn’t even put up yet.

You wandered aimlessly into the bathroom, and switched on the light. You didn’t recognize yourself in the mirror. Only a faint resemblance of what you looked like that morning, before the airport, before the tears.

You had dressed up. Did your makeup. And now, your clothes were wrinkled, and your face was smeared with mascara. You looked miserable, you felt miserable, you were miserable.

Claire walked in just as another tear rolled down your cheek. You looked at her reflection, and saw she was eyeing you, sadly.

“Hey,” she attempted to smile. She stepped over to you and held onto your shoulders, catching you as you fell back, dramatically, into her arms.

“Hey, hey, look at me,” she whispered. You hiccuped as you looked in the mirror, making eye contact with her. “It’s just day one . . .” she said. “It’s just . . . day one.”

And it’s true, what everyone says: one day turns into one month, and one month turns into one year.

And one year turns into one decade.

October 13, 2017.

New York City, New York.

Today, is Friday the thirteenth.

Day 5,629 without Matthew Gubler.

And somehow, someway, you feel just as stuck, and frozen, and scared shitless as you did on day one.

You haven’t felt this way in a very long time, though. And of all the days, of all the nights, to feel like this, to be stuck and frozen and scared . . . tonight is not the night.

A knock rings at the dressing room door, startling you from your thoughts. You cleared your throat, and found yourself, once again, focused on your reflection.

You know this person. You’ve spent 5,629 days growing into this person. And y’know what? She’s fucking hot.

“[y/n]!” Another knock follows.

“I’m coming!”

“When?”

“Ramona, I will fire you, and trust me, I really need an assistant!” You shout, fixing your dress in the mirror once again.

“Oh, yeah, right. Then who would make your coffee and make sure you’re on time?” she replied. “. . . You’re late!”

“Okay!” You stumbled to the door in your heels, flung it open, putting your hand on your hip.

“Wow . . .” Ramona said, nearly speechless. “You look . . . hot.”

“That is not how you speak to your boss, dude,” you laughed. “You really think I look hot?”

“Marshmallows on an open fire, smoking, kind of hot.” She winks.

You chuckle, “Thanks, I needed that. Walk with me.”

“Okay, um,” she starts, walking beside you as you strut down the hall. “Hair and makeup are gonna take care of you in no less than thirty minutes, that gives you, approximately, two minutes to get into the studio.”

“Two minutes?” You stop in your tracks. “That’s it?”

She can’t help but grin, just a little, “Told you you were late.”

You scoffed, “Okay, so are we shooting when I step into the studio?”

“Yep!”

“Great . . .” you sigh, walking over to the cosmetic chair.

“But, hey, you’re the big boss, they can’t film without you.”

“Yeah, except big boss told everyone we’re filming at seven sharp, and big boss probably won’t even be ready at seven sharp!” You ramble.

“Okay . . .” Ramona nods, slowly. “Are ever gonna tell me why you’re so nervous about tonight, or . . ?”

“Uh, why am I nervous about a major, televised, celebrity event that I not only put together myself, but choreographed?” You rambled. “I don’t know, pick a reason!”

“Wow . . .” She says. “As valid as all those reasons are, I think something else is going on and I will find out, so you might as well spill.”

“Can’t talk!” You pip. “Getting my makeup done! Tell them I’ll be in at seven.”

You exhaled deeply the minute Ramona stepped away, closing your eyes. Not opening them until your hair was done perfectly, and the makeup artist added her final touches.

You, once again, came face to face with your reflection.

“[y/n]!”

But you didn’t have time to process it.

“[y/n], cameras are rolling, thirty seconds to seven.”

Of all the days, of all the nights, you tell yourself, looking into the mirror, to feel like this, to be stuck and frozen and scared . . . tonight is not the night.

“[y/n]!”

Because you are the big boss now.

Your purple dress — perfectly matched to the NYU logo — hugs your body tightly as you walk across the floor, the hem splayed over feet, which are covered in tall, silver heels. The clack of your shoes silences everyone as you walk by. Everyone, except for Ramona, who steps in before you can enter the studio.

She clips an NYU pin to your dress, “For good luck,” she smiles.

“3, 2, 1 . . . rolling.”

You enter the studio, and the room fills with a flood of “oooooh!” from each and every one of your students. The camera pans over their faces as you walk across the hardwood floor, smiling at them, laughing at their expressions. Their jaws are dropped, hands clutched over their chests.

“[y/n]! Holy shit!”

“Hey!” You laugh. “Language! We’re rolling!”

“You look great!”

“Thank you, how are you all?” You ask.

“Nervous, thanks for asking.” They all laugh.

“You guys will be fine, I’m an excellent teacher,” you giggle.

“Damn right, but are you sure you can’t hold our hands while we’re on stage? Just for a little bit?”

“Big babies!” You shake your head. “You’re ready. Signals from off camera indicated a time crunch, and you quickly brought the group together for a big hug.

It’s been a long time coming. Tonight. Or, as printed on all invitations and promotional materials:

New York University’s 2017 Celebrity Alumni Event: In Support of the Ballet class of 2017.

Coordinated and Choreographed by [y/n] [y/l/n], executive producer and star of the hit reality show, New York Best and Ballet.

Big boss.

The camera follows you as you exit the studio, walk down the hall, “They’re gonna kill it,” you smile into the lense. “I know it.”

All you can think about is the blatant, gross hypocrisy. The way you’re completely, beyond a shadow of doubt, confident in your students and their ability to pull this off.

And you can’t even say the same thing about yourself.

With the cameras off of you, you put your hand against the wall, and steady yourself. Ramona walks up to you, walking along your side. “Got you a water, you should stay hydrated tonight.”

You give her an appreciative look, taking the bottle of water and standing up straight, “Is it too early to start drinking?”

“I guess not, guests are starting to arrive.”

“Holy shit, already?” You gasp.

“You did plan this thing, right?”

“Ugh,” you huff, dramatically rolling your eyes.

“You’re expected in the ballroom, a margarita will be waiting for you at the bar.” Ramona grins.

You continue down the hallway, as she watches you walk away, a crew of people following behind you.

“[y/n]!” Ramona calls.

You turn to her, stopping in your steps.

“Marshmallows on an open fire, smoking, kinda hot,” she smiles.

You laugh, out loud, and give her a nod. Then, you continue on your way downstairs.

More people had already arrived than you thought. The ballroom was packed, covered by a sea of people, tables, cameras and crew meandering through the crowd to catch every ounce of footage they could. You were filmed as you walked down the steps, passing the stage and stepping onto the floor with a grand smile.

“Pretty good turn out, huh?” You chuckled, beaming at the camera as you branch out to greet your guests.

This helps.

The smiles, the laughs, the presence of people that support you and your program enough to show up, pay a lot of money, and witness the magic of NYU ballet in all its glory. The light highlights the brightness of your smile, the glow around you in your element. Your chuckle echoing around the room, as you coasted from table to table, person to person, thanking them for coming.

Reconnections were made, stories were told, and retold, and thoughts of college had you blushing on the spot. You’re so lost in the whirlwind of energy, of being the proper hostess, and managing everything in sight, you didn’t notice that an hour had passed.

Until a crew member taps you on the shoulder, and tells you it’s five minutes to show time.

“Excuse me,” you nod, removing yourself from your current conversation and heading backstage.

You blow kisses to the band of nervous students, give them two thumbs up as cameras trailed behind you. “And . . . you’re on, [y/n].”

You stand up straight, hand your margarita off to a crew member, take in a deep breath. And walk. You march up to the podium, the bright lights beating down on you as you stand in front of the large crowd.

“Hello, everybody, welcome!” You announce, bringing the room to a gentle silence. “Thank you all so much for being here. I’m [y/n] [y/l/n], director and head of the ballet department here at New York University.”

You become flustered at the wave of applause, cheering the crowd and backstage. “Thank you, thank you so much. As a NYU alumni, there is truly nothing that makes me happier than to teach this extraordinary class of students. They’re focused, they’re determined, incredibly talented, and the best of the best. So, without further ado, I present to you the NYU ballet class of 2017, presenting a remastered rendition of their first performance in 2014.”

You exited the stage, the curtain behind you shielding the students that were already positioned in place. You stood backstage, watching them on screen, with your hands bound against your chest. The curtain was drawn, the music kicked up, and they went.

They move effortlessly, dare you say it . . . perfectly. In sync, and with a wide range of motion that rolled without a hitch. The crowd watched in awe, and you were right there along with them. Cameras focus on your face as you’re entranced by the class, and so immensely proud.

“They’re incredible,” you beam. “Aren’t they amazing?”

The full set took about half an hour, and when the curtain flies down, closing dramatically, you jump up and down, and run over to the group of kids who couldn’t wait to see you. The joy can be felt through the lense of every camera trained on you.

Their energy and excitement is putting you on cloud nine. Your own adrenaline is rushing, and pumping in your ears.

You let your guard down. You hand out kisses and hugs left and right, and step back in the crowd on a high, head empty, no thoughts. No feelings except for happiness and pride.

“That was incredible, [y/n], absolutely incredible.”

“Wonderful show!”

You were saying thank you faster than you could hear the accolades, caught in a rush of people passing you by.

You turn to see your students trailing behind you, shaking hands as they’re showered in praise. You grin at them, entirely consumed with elation by their looks of satisfaction, of relief, of relaxation and accomplishment.

You let your guard down.

You got comfortable.

“[y/n]!”

You let yourself slip.

“[y/n], [y/n]!” A hand is placed on your shoulder, causing you to turn around, a smile still plastered across your face.

“You know Matthew, right?” Your co-producer asked. “You guys graduated the same year?”

You nearly collide with him. You stop on the toe of your heels, and come to a screeching halt. Your eyes connect like magnets, the pull is strong and intense. Your breath catches in your throat, you smile fading along with your breath. You instantly begin to sweat under the light of the cameras, your skin heating up, your hands shaking.

“U—u—uh,” you stutter. “Yes! Hi!”

“Hi, [y/n]!” He exclaims, happily, opening his arms to give you a hug.

“Oh!” You gasp as he pulls you into his chest.

And he smells, so good. He’s grown, and it feels different holding his tall frame in your arms. But the embrace is quick, and brief, and he holds your shoulders in his palms as he speaks to you, “The show was amazing, blew me away!”

You’re expected to talk. You’re expected to breathe. But you’re left speechless by the scruff lining his jaw, the curl atop his head, the suit shaping his body, and topped off with a jet black bow tie.

“Thank you, thank you,” you ramble. “Thanks for coming, um, let’s catch up later,” you nod, to which he politely nods back, and clears a path for you to walk on by.

You let your guard down.

And now you can’t seem to catch your breath.

Your feet were killing you by the end of the night. You didn’t get to take a proper seat — without the cameras, and the crew, and the crowd, until nearly ten o’clock at night. As you were trying to regroup, Ramona found you hiding away in your dressing room, halfway asleep.

“[y/n]?” she taps your shoulder. You groggily lift your head, and look to her, “There’s a car waiting for you out back. It can take you home or to the hotel across the street. What do you think?”

“Mm,” you hum. “Hotel. Hotel is fine.”

The Lillian Hotel had been acquired specifically for tonight’s event. A cozy room, with an even cozier bed was waiting for you, calling your name. And after tonight, after day 5,629, it’s all you can think about.

You give Ramona a quick hug, and thank her for everything before you sneak out of the building. You take the back exit, avoiding an entanglement of people and paparazzi.

The atmosphere of the elegant hotel was much calmer. You were given the key to your room, and you turned on your heels to head to the elevators. Your shoes created an echo against the tile, and the sound suddenly silenced when you saw him. Waiting for the elevator.

“Matthew?” You call, timidly. The courage comes out of nowhere, flies out of your chest before you can catch it in your throat.

He stops in his tracks, and turns to you, holding the strap of his bag. “Hey!” he grins.

You give him a shy smile, as you let out a dry laugh and step closer to him.

His eyes darken, not noticeably, but just a little. He looks down at you, and you look up at him, and all you can say is . . .

“Matthew . . .” you clear your throat. “Thank you for coming tonight, and supporting the program, and for . . . being so professional about everything, I know it . . . couldn’t have been easy, I really appreciate it.”

His eyebrows furrow, only for a second, and his face almost goes blank. He looks down at his shoes, taps his foot as his mind swirls with words to say. But all he can is chuckle. Laugh.

“I knew you were gonna do this,” he says.

You tilt your head, “Do what?”

“This . . . think . . . think that what I did today had anything to do with you.”

“I—“ you stutter. “Okay . . .”

“I came tonight to see friends, to catch up, to visit New York. And I knew I would see you, and I knew . . . I knew you’d, I don’t know, expect me to fall to my knees the second I saw you. I can’t do that . . . I, personally, see no reason to do that. I acted professional, because I am professional, not to cushion your feelings.”

And although, he’s changed, he’s grown, he’s matured, and he’s a completely different person than when you saw him last, Matthew Gubler still knows how to make a dramatic exit.

He turns away from you and continues down the hall, boarding the elevator without looking back at you. You — who’s paralyzed, stuck, scared shitless. Standing in the foyer of the hotel lobby, wondering why you’re unable to move, to breathe, to keep your eyes from misting.

And back to day zero.

You knew for sure that you’d struggle to sleep. That Matthew’s word would eat at your gut and brain like a parasite, haunting you, rattling around your head. But, the second your head hits the pillow, you were out like a light.

And you dreamt of him instead.

The way he was 15 years ago.

The way he made you feel.

Bing, bing, bing!

“Huh!” You jolt awake, spasming out of your sleep violently. Suddenly, the sun had risen again, and it was burning your eyes through the windows.

Bing, bing, bing!

“What the—“ You sit up, rub your face, and anxiously search for your phone, wondering why you were being called so early in the morning.

Ramona’s name flashed upon the screen, and you swiped to accept her call. “Hello?”

“[y/n] . . .”

“Ramona . . .” you slur.

“Have you checked twitter this morning?”

“Tw — no? No, it’s . . . seven in the morning, of course I haven’t checked Twitter.”

“Check it.”

“Ra—“

“Check it!” She shouts.

You groan, and navigate to the Twitter app. “Oh . . . oh, I’m trending . . . that’s good, right?”

“Yeah, uh-huh, check who you’re trending with . . .”

“Okay . . .”

Clicking on your name, you instantly sat forward, your eyes going wide, “NO!”

TAGLIST:

@muffin-cup

@pinkdiamond1016

@ncsls0515

@spencersbed

@safertokiss

[felikatze]

xbc3. is. so good. i'm nowhere near done (30h in lmao) and i just finished chapter 3 and i wanna talk abt it anyway!!!!!

the mystery is SO GOOD!! WHAT'S HAPPENING!!! why is the world like this indeed noah!!! i dont know!! cuz like. *somebody* has to have done this. what was the ouroboros egg?! what the fuck are the moebius gang? why is any of this? why are we all killing each other?

also like. i have played xbc1 and love it a lot and respectfully ignored xbc2 but the callbacks to both r insane. not just how the factions mirror the games ON A COMBAT LEVEL TOO (INSANE) but also how it just takes actual locations from both games

i cant recognize the xbc2 ones obvs but the xbc1 locations. colony 9 is literally just colony 9!!! IT'S THE SAME FUCKING VALLEY!! THE EXACT SAME VALLEY!!!!

and when i got to colony lambda i had to say out loud "FUCK OFF THAT'S MAKNA FALLS" like yeah. okay.

and it just adds to the mystery!!! cuz ykno, xbc1 ends with the creation of a new world, so is this the new world? did the two worlds get fused after both games?

also like!!! CONSUL N IS JUST NOAH WHAT IS THIS. is this a shulk-zanza situation or what. i mean eunie did find a corpse with her own name and everyone's a test tube baby so noah is probably this guy's clone right. right.

speaking of its kinda. mind boggling to grasp on how short of a timescale these characters operate. cuz they'll talk abt their legendary heroes who've done so much and these legendary figures r literally the same age as mio. and two years older max than the rest of the group. THAT'S RIDICULOUS, RIGHT? TWO YEARS? ethel and mio are the same fucking age! and yet these are the respected seniors! that's like me calling my sister an old crone! wack! vandham's right!!!! this isn't how the world is supposed to be!!

the character writingg is. excellent also. i love how every configuration of characters gets bonding moments, not just ouroboros pairs. like the tail end of chapter 3 is vry taion centric yeah (i love taion)

so we get this scene after eunie discovers her own corpse and unlocks ptsd and she's sitting by the fire and her hands are shaking. taion hands her a cup of tea and she makes fun of him out loud but we cut to her hands and see they've stopped shaking

that's such a good moment the fuck man. like, taion recognizes eunie's distress, but doesnt press her to talk about it, and eunie pokes fun at taion, but she's geniuenly grateful for his company. considering what a dickweed (affectionate) eunie is that's amazing.

and after that is a moment where taion admits to lanz that he's jealous of lanz's self confidence, but lanz admits he's not self confident at all. he just cant stand still and allow himself to think, or else the doubt starts setting in. he has to keep moving or else. he cant doubt himself once cuz then he'll doubt himself forever.

and when it happens, this is still kind of in the taion centric stretch with his colony lambda backstory, but this moment sets up how lanz starts doubting himself and feeling guilty after joran shows up as a consul. AND in the moment lanz tells taion how noah will always tell him to look forward WHICH NOAH THEN DOES AFTER JORAN!

it's just good okay!!!!! and i'm still reeling from "consul n is just noah lmao" except my joycons' battery ran out and i want to play on the big screen

i'm now fondly recalling my joke reading of zanza and meyneth as "your divorced parents arguing about how to raise their kids" and now i'm giggling about it cuz i'm still kind of right i think

xbc3 launches straight in into "war is hell" whereas xbc1 started as a more straightforward revenge plot only to pull zhe rug out from under you but both r vry good in their own way.

even with all the callbacks, xbc3 still has its own story and themes and even the fused environment feels new amd fresh to explore thanks to the changed lanscape and beautiful music.

good game!!! yeah!!!!

[everamazingfe]

A Close Shave

Fic Summary: After being picked up by the Urania and brought back to the Hephaestus station, Communications Officer Doug Eiffel tries to come to terms with his new look. It doesn’t go well. Luckily, Jacobi comes along to save the day. 

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Words in this fic: 2082 Pairings: Doug Eiffel/Daniel Jacobi Warnings for this fic: Brief mentions of abuse

Notes: I got into Wolf 359 at the start of this year, and after relistening to it recently I decided to start writing some fics. I was pretty nervous about posting this, but I couldn't keep it in my drafts forever, so here it is! There’s also a link to this fic over on A O 3 as the source of this post! Click it to go read it over there, or you can search up the title or ‘everamazingfe’ on the site.

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There was something about him, Eiffel had decided within the first few seconds of seeing him for the first time. His face was mostly blank unless he had some sly comment to say, some sarcastic remark, and then that stony expression was replaced by something cockier, more smug. Sometimes there was a flash of softness to it, usually when Maxwell was speaking. But even when his face was at its blankest, there was a mischievous gleam in those bright green eyes of his.

Eiffel had never really noticed anyone’s eyes before. He didn’t know Minkowski’s eye color, or Lovelace’s for that matter. Hell, Eiffel didn’t even know if he knew his own eye color at this point, he avoided looking in mirrors at all costs. But for some reason, he’d noticed Jacobi’s. Not only had he noticed it, but he had committed it to memory as well. 

For a moment, he was convinced he could picture them clearly as he stared out the window above his comms panel, making eye contact with them in the reflection of the glass. Somehow, he was able to picture his face with perfect clarity too, despite only seeing it a handful of times while he was in sound mind. 

“Feel good to be home?” The Jacobi that Eiffel thought he was picturing in his mind so clearly spoke, startling him out of his trance and making him jump because it wasn’t his imagination, it was the real deal. It made sense, he’d never had a very visual imagination anyway, but there was always hope for a change of mind. “Wow, I didn’t think I was all that scary, Officer Eiffel.”

“You’re not,” he grumbled with a huff of indignation, grabbing the edge of his station and pulling himself back to it, hooking his knees beneath it to keep himself there. “I just… Got lost in thought.”

“You? Capable of thought? Now that’s something that wasn’t included in your file.” There it was, that stupid sly grin that Jacobi always had when he thought he was being oh-so-clever. Usually, he was. But that joke had become played out within the first month on the station.

Eiffel responded with mock laughter, trying to ignore the way that comment made an invisible knife twist in his chest. After all he’d done, no one thought he was good at anything. What a surprise. But he didn’t have time to unpack all of that right then. “Get some new material, I’ve heard it all before,” he drawled, hoping he looked as bored as he sounded. “I’m a slacker, I’m an idiot, I’m a motormouth. Tell me something I don’t know.”

“Your shoe’s untied.” 

Maybe there was some truth to one of those three things, because like the idiot he was, Eiffel had that brief moment of panic everyone had when someone told them that their shoe was untied, or their fly was down, or there was something on their shirt. And because of that panic, he looked down. It had completely slipped his mind that he hadn’t even worn shoes in the two (Three? Did those hundred days hurtling through space count? He didn’t know.) years he had been on the Hephaestus. “Oh, goddammit!” He groaned as he stared down at his socked feet in dismay, trying to tune out the cackling laughter Jacobi let out behind him that sent him halfway across the room. 

“You’re also gullible, apparently!” He let himself continue his path across the room so he could push off the back wall, still in a fit of giggles as he sailed back to the console. “You actually fell for it! I can’t believe it! I’ve never gotten anyone with that before.” Jacobi’s grin was bigger than it had ever been, and he wiped the tears from his eyes before they wreaked havoc on the station’s internal systems. Maxwell was too smart to fall for a simple trick like that, and Kepler… Well, Kepler didn’t like being pranked. 

Eiffel grumbled something incoherently, waiting patiently for Jacobi to get over himself before he spoke again. “Was there a real reason you came down here?”

“No, not really. Kepler’s giving Minkowski an orientation for her new role and then he needed to discuss… something with Hilbert, I don’t even wanna know. And Ala- Maxwell’s busy with Hera. So, I was bored.”

“What about Lovelace?”

“Dunno. Didn’t ask. Didn’t care.”

“Right… So you came to interrupt my very important work?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“Lucky me.”

“Lucky you.” Jacobi made himself comfortable, lounging in the free-floating bliss that was zero-g as Eiffel pretended to look busy, though his eyes were fixed on the reflection of the man in the glass. The bright light of Wolf 359 backlit him beautifully, and the color in the star seemed to desaturate everything else in the reflection, except for those damn eyes. 

Eiffel let out a sigh, bringing a hand up to run it through his hair, his fingers brushing through the empty space where his long curls used to be. He let out a frustrated growl, moving his hand up to his scalp. The little hair that was left was scraggly and damaged as hell. It was coarse and patchy, and it scratched his hand uncomfortably when he ran his hand over it. “Actually. I have an idea of something we can do.” He turned around to look at the real Jacobi, who arched an eyebrow in silent encouragement for him to go on. “Come with me.”

He’d had his head shaved a handful of times, and it was usually under duress. The first time was as a punishment for getting gum stuck in it, even though he hadn’t been the one to put gum there, and it would’ve been much easier to just cut the chunk out rather than shave his whole head. The second time had been when he’d joined the military. This would make number three, but this time it was necessary, despite the fact that his goal had really been to never cut his hair again. All that length had meant a lot to him, it meant that he had control over something in his life, finally, but the cryofreeze had, apparently, had other plans for it.

Additionally, most of the shaving kits, particularly their razors, had been dismantled for Minkowski’s crusade against Blessie. God only knew where all of those had ended up, or if they were still even on the station, but he knew there was one that was still safely tucked away. 

“Wow, Eiffel. I thought you would’ve liked to wine and dine your dates before bringing them home. You always struck me as more of a gentleman than that.”

“Shut up.” He rooted around in his locker, letting various pieces of uniform and whatever else had been shoved in there float freely around them as he did so. Most of it was contraband that he should’ve been more careful about getting seen, but he was too focused. Once he found the kit, he let out a soft, ‘a ha!’ And underhand tossed it to Jacobi. “You’re shaving my head.”

For once, Jacobi didn’t have some sort of sarcastic remark to make in response. He was just confused. “Sorry?”

“I can’t… I can’t stand it being like this. I can’t. And it’ll never grow back right with the ends this damaged, and I don’t really feel like cutting myself a thousand times in the process. So you’re doing it for me.” He tried to make his voice sound commanding, authoritative, but instead he just sounded desperate, irritated, upset. His hair meant so much to him, but he could stand to be without it for a little bit. He’d done it before, he could do it again. What he couldn’t stand was the sorry excuse for hair that he’d been left with. 

“You don’t think I’d use the razor to kill you? It’d be the perfect opportunity.”

“If you wanted to kill me, you could’ve done it back on the Urania when I was half dead.” 

“You hadn’t annoyed me as much back then.”

“I mean, if you really want to, I guess you can, but… I’d really just like my head shaved, please.”

A dramatic sigh filled the silence, and then: “Ugh, fine. But you owe me.”

That was good enough for Eiffel, and he trailed along behind Jacobi to the Hephaestus’ bathroom. Gravity was a little different in there, as in it was actually present in order to make showering and other general acts of hygiene (that Eiffel didn’t really partake in) a little easier. So he was able to sit on the counter and stare their reflections down as Jacobi stood behind him, setting the kit beside him on the counter. 

Jacobi wasn’t a friend, not by a longshot. In Minkowski’s book, he was part of ‘the enemy.’ But they’d spent a decent amount of time together after he’d been picked up by the Urania, and even a little bit of time before that over the comms. Someone had to keep in touch with him and keep up-to-date on his coordinates so the ship could get a lock on his location, and Kepler had felt like that work was beneath the highly intellectual minds of himself and Maxwell, so it had fallen to Jacobi. And Eiffel hadn’t minded, because beneath all the smart remarks, the guy was alright to talk to. A little stilted, maybe, but that wasn’t anything he couldn’t work with. It was better on the Urania. Easier, at least, because Jacobi’s body language did a lot of the talking for him. Once again, helping Eiffel was deemed grunt work, so Jacobi had been the one stuck tending to his wounds, helping him get around when he was too weak to even keep his eyes open, and adjust to eating again after not doing it for a hundred days (though with all of the substitutes for rations Hilbert dared to call food, one could argue it had been even longer since he’d really eaten). 

Long story short, Eiffel liked Jacobi to some degree. The guy was alright in his book, and he was sure the feeling was mutual, because he could’ve easily said no, or done a hackjob of it, or killed him. But instead, he took his time and made sure that he didn’t miss any spots, his other hand resting gently on Eiffel’s head to keep it steady despite all the fidgeting. 

After the first pass, Eiffel moved to get off the counter, to turn around and thank Jacobi, but a firm hand on his shoulder pushed him back down. 

“I gotta go again, make sure I didn’t miss a spot. It looked awful before, but it’ll look even worse if there’s just a tiny patch with a few hairs left.”

Eiffel furrowed his eyebrows together, but nodded and got comfortable again. As comfortable as he could, at least. His ass was already numb and the feeling was starting to spread down to his legs, but hopefully the second pass would go quicker. 

And it did, kind of. Jacobi didn’t need to clean the hair from the razor as often because there was barely any left, but he still took that same slow and gentle care as he had the first time. When he was done, he wiped off the leftover shaving cream with a nearby towel, smiling genuinely as Eiffel lifted a hand to feel over his scalp. “Well? How does it feel?”

“It feels great,” he answered earnestly, laughing in relief. He didn’t hate the way his reflection looked anymore, and now he could actually believe everyone when they told him to pull it together because it would grow back eventually. Hopefully this made the process easier. His eyes drifted to Jacobi’s in the mirror, mirroring that same smile. “Thank you... I really do owe you.”

“Yeah, you do.” The genuine smile faded to his usual cocky grin, and Eiffel threw the towel at him. It hit him square in the face, but it didn’t wipe away that look. “But… You’re welcome.” He offered him a hand to help him off the counter, steadying him with a chuckle when he nearly lost his balance. “Gravity that hard on you, Doug?”

“No! It’s just… That counter was not very comfortable to sit for that long on. And yeah, I guess gravity’s pretty hard to adjust to too.” 

“Well then we’d better get you back to the lazy embrace of zero-g.”

[magnusmysteries]

Part 4: The Sixteenth Fear

The Magnus Archives was a horror podcast. It is now completed. Many of the show’s mysteries were never explained on the show. I intend to explain them. Spoilers for the show, but also spoilers if you wanna solve these mysteries yourself.

In part 3 I said every fear has an opposite. But the Flesh didn’t exist before the industrial revolution. So there would have been 13 fears then, an uneven number, and not every fear could balance against an opposite. So how could that be?

The answer is, there were only 12 fears before the Flesh. The Corruption and the Desolation used to be the same fear. 

Diego Molina of the Lightless Flame cult worships Asag. A Sumerian god of disease that could make fish boil. So Asag seems to be of both the Corruption and the Desolation.

In Infectious Doubts Arthur Nolan complains about it: “Not like I can vent to the others about what a prat Diego is. Got a lot of funny ideas. Still calls the Lightless Flame Asag, like he was when he was first researching it. I just really wanna tell him to get over it; I mean Asag was traditionally a force of destruction, sure, but as a church we very much settled on burning in terms of the – face we worship, and some fish-boiling Sumerian demon doesn’t really match up, does it? Plus there’s a lot of disease imagery with Asag that I’ll reckon is way too close to Filth for my taste, but no, he read it in some ancient tome, so that’s that –“

Ancient is the key word. The tome predates the industrial revolution and the Flesh. Asag probably isn’t a thing anymore and Diego is indeed a prat for worshipping it.

In The Architecture of Fear Smirke writes “I know you say the Flesh was perhaps always there, shriveled and nascent until its recent growth, but to grant the existence of such a lesser power would throw everything into confusion. Would you have me separate the Corruption into insects, dirt, and disease? To divide the fungal bloom from the maggot?”

It is not random that Smirke uses the Corruption as an example here. The Corruption is the opposite of the Flesh, so the Corruption is the fear that Smirke believed had no opposite for hundreds or thousands of years.

In part 3 I said vampires where Corruption/Desolation/Hunt. This is a little far-fetched, but I wonder if the vampire’s we’ve seen have been old ones that predate the Flesh. And that’s why they are part Corruption, since Corruption and Hunt used to be next to each other. Maybe there are more modern vampires without the long sucking tongue. Maybe instead of sucking blood, when they bite you begin to burn or boil. Since the Hunt is now next to the Desolation instead of the Corruption-Desolation combo.

In Vampire Killer Trevor says “I have killed five people that I know for sure as vampires, and there are two more that may or may not have been.” There is a missing middle part of Trevor’s statement. Maybe there he talks about killing two vampires that are modern and therefore different so he’s not sure if they’re actually vampires.

Speaking of fears splitting up, why is the Darkness the opposite fear of the Slaughter? In Last Words we hear of the first fear “A fear of blood and pounding feet, a fear of that sudden burst of pain and then nothing.” 

And of the second fear “The fear of their own end, of the things that lived in the darkness, became a fear of the darkness itself.”

I think the first was a general fear of violence. It includes what became the Hunt “Blood and pounding Feet...” and the Slaughter “...Sudden burst of pain and then nothing”, and the End “The fear of their own end…” And the second fear was the Darkness. They were the opposite by default, simply for being the two first fears.

When the Buried became a fear, the Hunt split up from the Violence to oppose it. When the Vast became a fear, the End split up from the Violence to oppose it. All that was left of the Violence was Slaughter, still opposing the Dark. When humans began warfare, fear of war fit nicely with the Slaughter.

The Eye might have been part of the Dark at first. Still from Last Words: “...because they knew the dark held flashing talons and shining eyes…” 

When the Lonely became a fear, the Eye split up from the Dark to oppose it.

So what about the Extinction? Does it have an opposite? Yes! There is a sixteenth fear. And what can be the opposite of the fear of the end of the world? The fear that the world isn’t real. That we’re all just living in a computer simulation. If you think the world isn’t even real, you’re not gonna be so worried about it ending. I’ll call it the Simulation.

Here is how the fears are arranged on the wheel, with the two latest fears added:

Description of image: A circle with 16 spots similar to a clock. On each spot is a number and the name of a power: 1. Corruption. 2 Extinction. 3. Desolation. 4. Hunt. 5. Slaughter. 6. End. 7. Lonely. 8. Stranger. 9. Flesh. 10. Simulation 11. Spiral. 12. Buried. 13. Dark. 14. Vast. 15. Eye. 16. Web.

The Extinction is next to the Corruption. Disease and garbage are both gross. Possessive is an Extinction episode, even if not acknowledged as such by any of the characters. It’s about garbage. And Maggie is creating people out of garbage. She is making the inheritors mentioned in Time of Revelation. There are also creatures made of garbage in Concrete Jungle. And Maggie was full of moving insect legs, showing Corruption influence.

Quote from Adelard Dekker from Rotten Core: “I’ve spoken before about how keenly I’ve watched news of possible pandemics, which is where I suspect the Extinction may pull away from the Corruption during its emergence.” Adelard knows the Extinction is next to Corruption.

The Extinction is next to Desolation. That fits, nuclear weapons cause fire. Quote from Times of Revelation, describing corpses: “They were stiff, and desiccated, mummified by some process Bernadette could not begin to guess at, but that rendered their flesh like tightly packed ash” Ash as if they were burned.

The Simulation is next to the Flesh. The Flesh makes you think humans aren’t people, they are just meat. The Simulation makes you think humans aren’t people, they are just NPCs.

The Simulation is the next to the Spiral. Both make you question what is real. The Spiral makes you doubt your mind, the Simulation makes you doubt your world.

There are four episodes about the Simulation: Binary, Zombie, Cul-de-sac and Reflection.

In Binary Sergey Ushanka uploads his mind into a computer. He becomes a simulation and it hurts. There is influence by the Spiral, the statement giver isn’t sure if she’s going crazy. And there is influence by the Flesh. Ushanka uploads himself into a computer and then he eats the computer. So that’s cannibalism.

In Zombie the statement giver thinks other people aren’t real, they’re philosophical zombies, In other words they like simulations or NPCs. The man that follows her repeats the phrase “Just fine, thank you for asking” and says nothing else. Just like some NPCs in video games will say the same phrase over and over. The man is identical the three times they meet, except for his t-shirt changes color. Sometimes in video games some NPCs will be identical, except for some colors are changed. (Because it’s less work to recollar a character than to draw one from scratch.)

John thinks Cul-De-Sac is about the Lonely. And yes, the statement giver was lonely. But the people affected by the Lonely choose to be lonely, and the statement giver didn’t. His boyfriend broke up with him because of cheating and then he lost his friends because they sided with his boyfriend. 

I think the theme of the statement is unreality, not loneliness. In the Magnus Archives, when someone gets marked by a power it is because they made some wrong choice. The choice the statement giver makes is to return to the place he found dead and soulless. He drives back to his ex-boyfriend to deliver the moose, rather than send it by mail. He specifically wants to meet his ex. Not an act of loneliness, quite the opposite. Also he is returning a moose that is angular and creepy, in other words it is unreal.

When the statement escapes from the nightmare it’s because he got a phone call from his ex. And he says “I love you.” and that fits neatly with the Lonely. But it also fits with escape from the unreal. He escapes because he communicates with a real person.

The road signs says “Road” and “Street”. Generic and unreal. All the houses look the same. Like in a computer game. The statement giver wonders if they are the same house. Like in a computer game where one might reuse the code for a house many times.

The house he enters has stock photos. Unreal.

The people on TV have something wrong with their eyes, similar to the eyes of the zombies in Zombie. And it's a fake cooking show, and a fake infomercial.

The dead woman upstairs was someone who had social media profiles, and that nobody notices had died. Meaning she lived her life online. That sounds like she was lonely. But living online also makes her a good victim for the Simulation. Everyone she talked to was on a computer, she couldn’t know for sure if they were real.

The woman had killed herself with a mirror. I think what happened was she had looked into the mirror and seen that her eyes were wrong, like the eyes of the people on TV. And she had thought she was just a simulation, like everything around her. And therefore she killed herself. Or perhaps she wasn’t reflected in the mirror at all? Like in…

Reflection. Adelard speculated that this statement was about the Extinction, but I don’t think so. The protagonist was in a world that seemed unreal. A fun fair is artificial so that fits the theme. The people were playing games, which fits the theme via computer games maybe.

Adelard says “I can’t quite get past the detail that there was no reflection at all in the mirror he used to return.” It is almost at the end of Adelard’s letter, it’s clearly meant to be significant. The no reflection might be symbolic for the statement giver starting to think he isn’t real, which might be what happened to him after he gave the statement.

Reflection has influence by the Spiral, with the maze of mirrors. There is influence by the Flesh, with the cannibalism.

[sixofpomegranates]

Rain in California - Act 1 - Fame

🥀Mini Series “Rain in California” Act 1 - Part 3 - Fame🥀

✨My Main Masterlist✨ | 18+ | AO3 | Wattpad

🥀Soundtrack🥀 | ✨Aestethic Trailer✨ |  🥀Masterlist🥀 | Words: 6.4k

🥀click here for the previous chapter🥀

TW: ANGST (LIKE REALLY),  mention of loss/death/addiction/sobriety/murder/abortion/miscarriage, suicidal thoughts/tendencies, depression, addiction, substance abuse, drugs, alcohol, ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIP, mentions of OD, PTSD, Self-Harm/Cutting, religious trauma, past physical/psychological abuse on child/teen, abusive parents, teen pregnancy, murder, injustice, withdrawal symptoms,

Songs in this Chapter:

Heartbeat - Don Johnson

Seven hours and a Gastric Suction later, [y/n] felt like hell.

Her throat hurt and the medication they´d given her didn’t work. Now she laid in her hospital room, in her uncomfortable bed and was mostly angry at herself. [y/n] didn’t know why she had acted so stupid…well, probably because she had been high as hell. Not feeling able to control herself, when taken more than usual.

 She didn’t want to be so erratic, but when she was high, it just all seemed so easy. Saying the things she thought, doing things she normally would never even dare thinking of, not being hurt by others...On drugs she felt free. Herself.

Although she didn’t even know who she was anymore.

 When Spencer was holding her in the bathroom?

That was the first time somebody had said something to her about her addictions, except for ‘Are you sure that’s a good idea?’, ’It´s not that bad.’, ‘We´re here once you´re ready.’ and ’She´s just having a rough time.’.

It was the first time somebody really seemed to see through her and literally forced her to look at herself in the mirror. To care for her enough to show her tough love. Leroy, Hank and Tom had tried it, but given up on her, sure they supported and cared for her still, but for them she was already too far gone. And they were probably right about it.

 But the dog? He still had wanted to help her, even after she tried being her ugliest.

 She had gone too far, still remembering his face, the terror in it, when she cut her wrist, when she had taken all her pills at once. [y/n] had wanted to hurt him like that, her mind, her stupid junkie mind, had her convinced, that doing it would be a great way to get back at him.

Because she felt hurt, being rejected by him.

 Most likely she had scarred him for life. And now he hadn’t come in, since she was allowed to have visitors, and probably would never come back.

 She has successfully driven away the only one that had still cared enough.

 Now, mostly sober, she felt like a monster, aware that she was a wreck beyond repair.

 Of course she had, in the beginning, thought about stopping. But the drugs were the smaller evil to her, since they calmed her mind and made her forget the pain. She would stay alone forever, unworthy other people´s love, her mind should at least be allowed to be numb.

 *****

 “I came as fast as I could. What happened?”, Philip handed Spencer a duffle bag, filled with [y/n]´s clothing. He had asked him to bring it, since Spencer didn’t know how long she would stay.

“They pumped her stomach and had to stitch the wound on her wrist.”, he stated, making the short manager´s eyes go wide.

“Are you insane? What if they hurt her vocal cords?”, the tall one tried to remain calm, but had to really force himself to not hit Philip.

 Why was that a priority?

 “I didn’t wanna let her die. She could´ve OD´d. What would you have done?”, Spencer asked slightly aggravated.

“Carry her to the bathroom and force her to throw up, until nothing´s in her stomach anymore. Then I usually take her to bed and give her water every hour and feed her soup until she´s better.”, the manager explained and Spencer felt like that had to be a joke.

 “That has happened before?”, he asked baffled and Philip nodded. “Yeah, a couple of times, but she always either took something or cut herself. Never both at the same time. Where you two fighting again?”, he asked reproachful and Spencer felt the guilt sink into his heart. “See, agent Prentiss? This is why I said, [y/n] didn’t need a bodyguard.”

“I´m sorry, but I don’t think that this is the result of having a bodyguard. It´s much more one to them not getting along and [y/n] being highly addicted to a couple of substances.”, Emily stepped in for Spencer.

 The manager just ignored the her obvious insinuation of the rockstars declining mental help, before going into [y/n]´s room. The agents then just looked at each other before going in too.

 *****

 This was the first time Spencer saw [y/n], since they got here. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to be alone with her before. She was laying in her bed, bandage on her left wrist, looking directly at him when he came in. They had taken of her make-up, making Spencer realize, that she was prettier without it. Her jet black, dark hair in a ponytail. To him she looked calmer and softer like this. The real girl behind the façade. Philip was already all over her.

 “[y/n], you look awful.”, he said, shaking up the pillow as she got up a little, to sit.

“Feel like it too.”, her voice sounded a little raspy.

“Poor girl. How is your voice? Do you need anything?” “Fine. My throat´s just a little sore. Can you check me out of here? The faster, the better. That way I can go home without the media knowing.”, Spencer and Emily shared a look.

“The paparazzies showed up an hour ago.”, Emily stated, making [y/n] nod.

 She leaned further back in her pillow and looked at Spencer, like she wanted to say something.

 “C-Can you still check me out, Philly?”, Philip nodded.

“Of course. I´ll be back asap and then we´ll take you home so you can pack.”, he walked outside and [y/n] looked at Emily.

“Can – I don’t know – you maybe go with him?”, she asked her friendly.

 The dark haired woman shared a look with Spencer, who nodded at her. Signaling, that he was okay being alone with the singer again. Emily then nodded and walked after Philip, closing the door on her way out. For a second Spencer thought about leaving the room too. To, no longer, have this black-haired demon take hits against his sanity, but then her voice cut into the silence of the room.

 “I´m sorry.”, she said and Spencer wondered, if she was being honest.

“For almost killing yourself?”, he asked her sarcastically and she shook her head.

“For how I treated you.”

“I´ve been through worse. You´d need to be trying way harder, if you want me to break.”, he answered her cold and she began looking at her hands.

“I´m sorry, I tried pressuring you, to take drugs.”, Spencer shrugged at that. “You were high. If I didn’t relapse after the love of my life was killed or when I was put wrongfully into prison, I won´t relapse because a pretty girl is offering me drugs.” “Doesn’t make it better or okay. I saw the token in your room, when I was looking for my pills. I knew and still did it. You must really hate me.”, [y/n]´s voice sounded like she was about to cry.

“I don’t hate you.”, he said gently, sitting down on her bed. [y/n] let out a self-degrading laugh and looked at him, tears filling her eyes. “No, it´s okay. I deserve it.”, she looked over to her IV drip bag, filled with clear liquid, and hit it slightly. “That stuff makes me sentimental.”, she tried saying jokingly, but sounded just sad.

 Spencer looked at her for a while, thinking about what he could say. He hadn’t thought she would apologize for how she acted and he had meant what he had told her. He didn’t hate her. Yes, she was emotionally draining to be around, it wasn’t all bad though.

 Spencer remembered Philip and how he had talked about the two sides of people.

 “That´s no medication, [y/n].”, she looked at him confused. “You lost a lot of water so…Yeah. What you´re feeling is the drugs wearing off.”, he cooed, holding himself back with the rambling. “Nice. That´s what every junkie loves to hear.”, both chuckled a little. “Hey, I give you ten thousand dollar, if you get me some pills, my head hurts like hell.”, she said it in a joking manner, making Spencer chuckle and shake his head.

“No chance. I´m not bribable.”

“Makes you one of few in Hollywood.”, the sound of rain made [y/n] look to the window. “Can you open it?”, he nodded and got up. “Thanks. I love the sound of rain. People always portrait it to be so sad when it rains, but I think it´s nice…cleansing.”

 He opened the window and sat next to her bed on the chair. They listened to the sound of raindrops hitting the streets for a while, when he decided to take the shot and ask [y/n], what had been on his mind for the last hours.

 “Why are you doing it?”, she looked at Spencer, making a questioning noise. “Cutting yourself, taking drugs.”

“The pain makes you feel alive and the drugs help you hide the side effects of being it.”, Spencer chuckled a little.

“So melodramatic.”

 High, she would have probably devoured him, but now she only smirked and rolled her eyes. By now a certain realness tried finding its way in both their voices.

 “What was your reason for taking them then?”, she asked, leaning in his direction.

 Spencer thought a second, honesty was earned and he wanted her to be honest with him. So he gave her a trust bonus, reviling a bit of his darkness.

 “I wasn’t giving the chance of choosing to take them. I was kidnapped and my tormentor, at least one of his personalities, thought he would help me handling the pain.”

 He could´ve sworn to see empathy in her eyes, but instead of showing it or whispering words of condolences, like so many others would do in this situation, she just smiled.

 “And there I was, thinking you´re just a hypocrite.”, he shrugged. “Well…I am one.” “How?”, [y/n] asked, a little frown appearing on her forehead. “Because you were right. I think you are attractive and maybe my motive wasn’t all just about protecting you at the concert.”, he could feel himself blush.

“I´m sorry for acting out, after…you know.”

“It´s okay. Would you feel better, knowing that I really hated making the decision, to not sleep with you?”, she nodded.

“A little.” “Good. Cause it was. But it was the right thing to do.”, she smiled a little and began focusing on her hands again.

“You see, I get it now and I´m glad, at least one of us, has made a right decision tonight but…I don’t know how I´ll be to you, when I´m high again.”, her concerned voice made him take her hand. Being afraid of your own mind, no longer being able to control it, was something he was very familiar with. “Then don’t be. We could get you into rehab.”

 [y/n] chuckled and took his hand with both of hers, caressing it with her thumbs. She seemed to be thinking. Making Spencer believe she may be taking his offer. But the longer she thought, the more obvious it became, that she was losing to something dark inside her head.

“Would be a waste of time.”, she whispered, her playfulness gone, as if reality just slapped her into the face.

“But if you continue like this, you´ll be dead soon.”, [y/n] gave him a gentle smile.

“You always say that, like I don’t plan on dying with twenty-seven.”

 For a second he tried reading her, hoping she was joking, having made those suicidal jokes a little to often in the last days. When he didn’t like the answer, he prepared himself to hear it from her.

“Do you?”, she nodded. “I´m going to join ‘Club 27’ and then drift into oblivion. My songs and everything I did, only becoming an relic from the past.”

 The way she said it, made it sound like she had already made peace with that decision. It frightened Spencer, making him think of how to make her re-think it.

“What about your friends?”

“There´s only the band…and I started pushing them away from me, a long time ago. I saw how it will end for me and decided not to have it hurt them, like it hurt me, when I found my mom.”, he shook his head. He refused to accept this as an answer.

“And what about yourself? You can’t just feel like dying is the only option.” “It´s not. But it´s the most relieving one.”

 The calmness in her voice and body language showed him so much. What had driven her into that state? A state were death was seen as a relieve, because everything else hurt too much. Depression. She showed signs of it. Many people with addicted use it to cope with their mental problems. What had happened to her? His mind traveled back to the day before, to the only moments when she had let her façade slip.

 To the silver bullet that would kill her.

 “What happened to your baby?”, he asked her stern and she looked at him defeated.

“Oh, I see…I´ve been profiled. What do you think happened?”

“You lost it.”, she nodded, but he continued, carefully watching her body language. He wanted answers, but would stop when she would get too uncomfortable. “Probably because of your abusive father.”, she nodded again, seeming a little numb to his words. “Was he religious?”, the black-haired girl chuckled and answered him a little sarcastic.

“Depends on how religious you´d call a reverend. Why?”

“Religious trauma or trying to shock people. Your music, I mean.”

 For a second [y/n] let go of his hand, making him rest in her lap. Spencer refused to pull it away, if she would start talking, he wanted her to know that he was still there. He had, by now, enough pieces of the puzzle, showing him a dark picture of her past. A reason, why she tried to be high so often.

 Reality was a sharp knife and its cuts couldn’t hurt so bad, when you numb yourself.

 “My father was always hitting my mom, but when she then took off, there was only me and him. He forced me into the mold of the perfect, religious daughter and when I wasn’t as obedient as he would´ve liked, he´d make me read the bible for hours and beat me senseless.”, she started gesturing to her stomach and chest area. “Of course only hitting me in places, nobody would see the bruises. When I was fifteen, I got caught trying to smoke for the first time, by a teacher. As they notified my father, he locked me into the dark broom closet for a week. Out of spite, I then started smoking regularly and met a boy through it, Daniel.”

 Spencer watched [y/n]´s face light up for a second. She looked like JJ or Rossi, when they were talking about Will and Krystall. Like he probably did, when he was thinking about Maeve.

 “He went to the same school as I and his abusive parents were addicts, like my mom had been. We kinda bonded over that and would sneak out at night, spending hours together, talking about the stupidest things. Thinking we were so deep and intellectual. He, at one point, started stealing his parents weed, so we could get high together. Made getting beaten easier. The time with Daniel was the first and last time I ever felt those butterflies. You know? This childish feeling of love?”

 She smiled at him as he nodded, remembering those butterflies too, but then the smile darkened and she took Spencer’s hand again. As if to try and hold onto him, shielding herself from the dark memories creeping up.

 “I got pregnant with sixteen. A shame. I managed to hide it for a few weeks and Daniel and I came up with the childish idea of running away together. We thought, we could just get jobs somewhere else, buy a home and become a family…Like foolish kids.”, her self-degrading laugh broke Spencer’s heart, as she tried swallowing her tears.

“And it didn’t work.”, he whispered and she only laughed, voice dripping in sarcasm. “Of course it didn’t. A woman from church had overheard us talking and the rumor of me being pregnant was already out there, since I threw up so often at school. So she thought she would help me, if she told my father.”, Spencer squeezed her hand a little. “You wanna know what he did?”, he shook his head.

 “What?”

“He waited for us to meet at night. As I crawled out of the window, he stormed outside with his shotgun and confronted us. After I admitted to being pregnant he hit me, making Daniel step between us and start fighting with my dad to protect me and the baby…and my dad- he-…he then just shot him. In-…In cold blood, just pulled the fucking trigger.”, [y/n] voice was filled with disbelieve. Like she still wasn’t able to believe what she had seen.

 “My father then grabbed me by the hair and tried getting me to go back into the house. I, obviously shocked about him just shooting my boyfriend, refused to and so he started beating and kicking me, till I stopped fighting back…Needless to say, I lost the baby after that.”

 As a few tear ran down her face, she let go of Spencer´s hand and wiped them away. Letting a cynical laugh follow.

 “That’s not even the best part of the story. Nothing happened.”, Spencer looked at her frowning.

“What do you mean with ‘Noting happened’. He shoot a teenager. Weren’t there any repercussions?”, she shook her head.

“No. Because he told the police, that he came outside to me screaming, because Daniel was beating me. Angry at me, for being pregnant. He stated that he just did what he had to do, to protect me.”, he shook his head in disbelieve.

“Weren’t you questioned? Didn’t you tell them what really happened?”

“I would try telling, but nobody believed it. Because the reverend, a pillar of our community, would never do such thing. They thought I was just lashing out and framing my father, because I was high and angry at him for shooting my boyfriend...Daniel´s parents didn’t even care, too high to get what had happened. After that, I wasn’t allowed to go to school anymore, in fact, I wasn’t allowed to do anything anymore. My father taught me at home and every Sunday I was allowed to go to church and pray to have my sins being forgiven.”

 Spencer nodded at the amount of information she had just given him.

He felt bad for her, started to understand her, started to hate her father and the cruel injustice she, Daniel and the baby had suffered.

Why had they only once, tried to get her into therapy?

The amount of suffered trauma had to end in a situation like this, left untreated.

It was eating her alive, suffocating her, and everybody who saw it, just slapped the ‘She´s gonna be okay’-Band-Aid on this gashing wound, moving on with their own life´s, while she was losing the battle inside her head. He got up and sat on the bed next to her, she scooted a little, giving him some room to lean back too. As he lifted an arm, [y/n] rested her head on his chest.

 “Then how did you get…viral…?”, he looked at him and the confused spoken word, smiling.

“You know about that?”

“Luke.”, he answered and she nodded. “I wasn’t allowed to have a phone, but I was allowed to use our computer once a week for an hour. I would record myself singing and playing guitar on our shitty webcam and started uploading it, not thinking anybody would ever see it. With eighteen I got in contact with this guy, he said he was in the midst of establishing his own record label and he would love to pay my flight to LA, taking me under contract. I accepted and just ran as fast as I could, before my father could get me.”

 [y/n] again laughed cynical. Seemingly a coping mechanism of hers, to play down the pain and severity of things and situations.

 “When I arrived, he then offered me to stay with him, if I´d be…you know…nice to him. He earned a shit ton of money with my music, while I got nothing…But everything was better than going back home again.”, she sat up a little, so she could look at Spencer, again with that sparkle in her eyes.

 “At one point, when I didn’t want to have sex with him anymore, I had to work at a pizza restaurant to afford rent. There I met Leroy, Tom and Hank at the Open-Mic-Night. I told them a little about what was going on and Hank sued that guys ass. He didn’t want anything in return…just happy to help me. If you think Hank is scary now, you would have shit yourself, seeing him in court!”

 Both chuckled. Spencer could, thankfully, only imagine how terrifying the fifty year old biker could get.

 “After winning the case I asked them if they were interested in becoming a band and we made some demo tracks with the money I had gotten. The label took us under contract and introduced us to Philip, who became our manager.”

 “But you weren’t into anything but marijuana. How did we end up here?”, she sighed.

 “The label has a lot of expectations surrounding me. One of them was for me, to go out and be publicly seen with their other artists, for the image. They were taking a lot of stuff and I always said no, sticking to weed. But somewhere along the line, I wanted to know how it felt. If my mom was right, for choosing it above me. And I think I get it now. Everything I told you before? My dad, my baby, Daniel? They´re gone. I´m able to standup for myself and not letting me being pushed into something I don’t want, like when that creep wanted me to whore myself out to him, just so I´d have a roof over my head. Life is just easier that way and thankfully shorter too.”, Spencer pulled her closer.

 “I like you like that.”, he almost whispered. “Depressed?”, [y/n] snickered and he chuckled, shaking his head. “Real.”

“Only fair. I´ve been a real bitch to you, the whole time.”, he shook his head again. “Not that bad.”, she hit his chest gently, while giggling. “Oh, please. I can handle it. Come on.”, he sighed playfully, admitting the truth. “Okay, yeah. You´ve been a bitch.”

 They laid there for a while, [y/n] seemingly thinking, before she talked again.

 “You´re gonna pass on babysitting duty for me now, I guess?”, she asked hesitant, making him chuckle.

“Nope. I´m gonna stay.”, [y/n] sat up and looked at him, like he had completely lost his mind.

“Why in the world, are you doing that to yourself?”, Spencer shrugged. “Savior complex.” “I´m not worth it.”, he shrugged again. “I know. But the sober girl inside you is. You know? The one that knows my name, speaks French with me while playing Mozart and puts a blanket over me when I fall asleep while reading.”

 Then she asked him something that hit too close to home. Revealing a reality he liked to ignore.

 “You can’t save everybody. You´re aware of that, right?”, he nodded as she laid back into bed, her head resting against his chest again. “But I can try.”, Spencer whispered against her ear.

“Would you mind just watching TV with me? Withdrawal headache´s a bitch.”

 Spencer grabbed the remote and turned the TV on. After many attempts of finding something interesting, [y/n] stopped him from switching the channels. They had come across an 80´s music special. Something with the name ‘Heartbeat’ by Don Johnson had just started playing. Although [y/n] didn’t move a lot, Spencer could tell she was excited. Moving her lips along the lyrics.

  “I don't care what you say

You can give it away

 Your money don't mean much to me.

I've been out on my own

Gonna got it alone now

 'Cause that's the way it's got to be.

Ev'rybody tells me how I can beat the odds for now.

Well I've been standing by the fire

But I just can't feel the heat.”

  “That’s a great song.”, Spencer shrugged, again not feeling too much connection to the music. But it did sound nice. At his shrugging she hit him a little and put on a badly played face of disbelieve and shock. “Show some respect for the classics!”, he laughed at her words. “Respect for the classics? You called Beethoven a deaf bitch.”, now [y/n] shrugged. “Touché.”, she giggled, laying her hand on her head as if to ease the pain.

  “Looking at me

It's easy to see

 You think you know just how I feel.

If you do to me wrong and it won't take me long

 Before my restless heart will heal.

I'm looking for a love

Love like mine”

  “That was good music back then.”, she whispered against his chest. “Heart break, real emotions…love that stuff.”

“Why don’t you play more of it then?”, Spencer asked, Luke in his mind telling him about their music just no longer trying to hit the feelings. [y/n] giggled a little. “I´m guessing…Luke told you?”, he nodded and she let out a sigh. “Remember when I told you about the label having expectations? Every song I make has to go through them first, before being released. At one point, I had nine songs, completely done and they only greenlit one of them. Told me the others ‘weren´t my style’, ‘not exactly my genre’ or ‘wouldn’t speak to my audience enough’. So I just stopped looking for the deeper emotions. Still love the music I make, but the feeling´s dead. My lyrics helped me coping at the beginning, but the restrictions the label set me, ended that.” “Why don’t you just write those songs again? It doesn’t matter if anybody hears them.”, he suggested to her chuckling in response.

  “They tell me it's so hard to find

But I can feel it in the rhythm of the heartbeat in the street.

 Heartbeat - I'm looking for a heartbeat”

  “If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound, mon amour?”, Spencer looked at her for a second, flustered by the realness she let him see.

“Yes. For me it would.”, he told her, making her giggled. “I probably lost my ability for stronger emotions anyway. But thanks, Spencer.”

 His heart skipped a beat as she said his name.

  “Heartbeat - I'm looking for a heartbeat

Beating like mine.”

  As the door opened Spencer quickly jumped up, Emily looking at him with a lifted eyebrow.

 “Uhmm…Hello?”, she asked, more meant as a ‘What´s going on?’. Philip walked in right after her, not having seen the both of them more or less cuddling in the hospital bed.

“Oh no, it´s raining again.”, he sighed as he closed the window and stepped aside for the nurse, who took out the IV from [y/n]´s arm. “Okay. I got you released from hospital, [y/n]. I have the papers and ta-da.”, he handed her a white little paper bag. “Your pain medication and antibiotics for the arm.”

 “Thanks.”, she answered and passed it over to Spencer. “Ca-Can you…so I take them correctly?”, he looked at her confused.

 “You sure?”, she nodded and Spencer smiled at her. Baby steps. “Of course.”

“I thought Dr. Reid would stop his bodyguard duty, now that you´re going to stay with me?”, [y/n] shrugged.

“I- I don’t know.” “You know, I can protect you too.”, Philip insured her. “Yeah…but I would feel safer with my guard dog around.”, she looked at the tall man. “Only if you´d be okay with that, Spencer.”

“More than okay.”, Spencer smiled at her, making her smile back.

“O-Okay, that´s fine. That´s gonna be fine. Dr. Reid can sleep in my office. Now get dressed, so we can pack your stuff at home.”

 Philip handed [y/n] her black duffle bag, Spencer had put on the floor next to her bed. She opened it and pulling out some jeans and a black sweater. When she tried to get up she was a shaky on her legs, but managed to go to the bathroom. Spencer stayed close to her, being able to catch her in case she´d fall. When she closed the door behind her, he looked at Philip and Emily.

 “How many paparazzies are out there?”, he asked and Emily held her breath, shortly thinking.

“Too many. Just checked before coming in. You guys better think of a plan, if you don’t want [y/n] to be seen by them and become five o'clock news.”, both men nodded and then looked at each other.

“Okay…so, Philip? Where do you park?”, Spencer asked. “Outside, visitors.”, he nodded and looked to his friend.

“Me too. Emily, you?”

“Car park.”, she answered and Spencer handed her his key.

“Okay. We trade. I take [y/n] home in Emily´s SUV. Emily takes [y/n]´s car and you, Philip, you just drive to the mansion. Maybe we can make them think she´s still in medical care, that way.”, all of them nodded to each other, not really knowing what more there was to tell. Not knowing if the plan would even work.

 *****

 When [y/n] looked in the mirror, in the tiny bathroom of her hospital room, after washing her face, she felt okay. Horrible, but okay.

 Feeling kind of stupid, having given Spencer her medication. It had felt right. But she didn’t know why. Did she want to make him happy? Well, he certainly was. But honestly? Nobody just stops being addicted for one person. Having your addiction tendencies being bound and under control solely for another person than yourself probably never works in the long term.

She knew she would have to stop for herself and that just wasn’t worth it.

She just wasn’t worth it.

Spencer would leave again, he was just another person in her life that would vanish, never to be heard from again. Her life would move on, just like it did now and that was it. It was okay like that. There wasn’t much to be expected anymore and she had made her peace with it. Having lost the will to try years ago.

 Somehow she had decided however, to enjoy the few moments she would still have with this man. A man she barely knew, but yet, felt so interest in. A man that either lived his best boomer life or just simply lived in a cave without Wi-Fi, giving his lack of knowledge by simple words like iconic and viral.

 Maybe it was his lack of interest in her Rockstar persona, that intrigued her. She had heard him and Philip outside of her room. Spencer had not given a single fuck, that her voice could´ve been ruined by having her stomach pumped, as long as she didn’t die. That was nice. Being more than an expensive voice. Being counted as a human.

 She wanted to know more about him, had given him her silver bullet, as a sign of trust. Now she wanted his or however much he was willing to give. Being high would ruin it, being high would maybe have her forget something. [y/n] knew she would still need to take the bare minimum of her drugs, so the withdrawal wouldn’t kill her, but for now she would like to be semi-clean. The headache and the freezing being acceptable.

 She had put on her fresh clothes, liking that they didn’t smell like cigarettes, wondering why she even smoked, when everything just started to reek and ruin the nice smell of her lavender perfume. Was it still out of spite, because her father didn’t like it?

Maybe she would quit…on the other hand…maybe just reduce them a little. For now, she didn’t have any, anyways. She would probably need some chewing gum.

 When she walked out of the bathroom Spencer smiled at her, stepping closer and his hands cupping her face.

 “Hey. You okay? You´re a little pale.”, she quickly nodded, her heart beating as fast as it always did shortly before a concert.

“Yeah, just not wearing any makeup, so…”, he shook his head, thumb stroking her cheek.

“Uh-uh. You weren’t pale like that before. You feeling sick?”, actually yes, she did.

“A little.”

“We´re gonna get you something to eat later and then you should take a nap. Philip is going to drive in his car and we´ll meet him at your house. Emily already left.”, [y/n] nodded, quickly stepping away from Spencer. She hadn’t even noticed Philip still being there, while he smiled at them.

“I´m gonna leave now and you guys just go to the garage and wait a few minutes. When something happens you call me, okay [y/n]?”, she nodded, Spencer taking her duffle bag as Philip hugged her and then left.

 She and Spencer went to the car park, her having the hood from her sweater pulled into her face, hoping nobody would recognize her. The last thing she wanted was a media scandal, so shortly after the her teen-pregnancy was brought to light. People talking about the ‘out of control’-Rockstar almost dying due to an overdose. Not that they were completely wrong, but still. She hated when strangers acted like they knew her, only because they read one of those crappy articles.

 When they got into the car Spencer turned on the seat heating, without saying a word, only smiling at her. Why was he so nice? Was it his savior complex or did he just have a great personality?

 Driving to her mansion in silence, they were met with an array of paparazzies in front of it. Spencer parked across the street. [y/n] quickly fixed her hair, should they notice her and start making photos.

 “Tinted windows, they don’t see you.”, he told her, making her relax.

 For a second she thought about how much she hated this. The flashes of the cameras pointed into her face, only inches away from it. Asking her inappropriate question, because fame cancelled out the right of privacy. They were always waiting for her to do something, to be put on a blast for.

 Maybe she could just, a little longer, be a no one. Like she seemed to be, alone with Spencer.

With Philip, she never had even five minutes to herself. Yes he was nice, but he was so in-your-face sometimes. Smothering her with care.

 “Spencer?” “Hm?”, he turned to her. “Would it be okay, to just go undercover?”, Spencer raised his eyebrows. “Undercover?”, her cheeks flushed a little.

“Yeah…get a hotel room and some junk food maybe…” “What about Philip?”

“I´ll text him…I- I´d just like to be alone.”, he nodded at her words, already starting the car again. “Oh, sure. I get that.” “Alone with you.”, was that sentence too bold? “I know. Already thought so.”, he put a hand on her thigh, gently squeezing it. She smiled at this gentle gesture. “Any hotel okay?”, he asked her, as she laid her hands on his, wanting to make sure it stayed there. “Sure. But you´ll need to get the room. I tend to attract attention.” “Really?”, he asked in a playful voice, as he pulled into the main street. “Yeah, apparently I look like this one singer from a rock band.”, she answered, giggling, even though it killed her head. “Huh, weird. Wouldn’t have noticed.”, he almost whispered, seeming to have noticed it.

“Maybe we should get me some nicotine patches too.”, she smiled, making him look at her surprised.

“Stopped smoking?” “Yeah, thought I´d try it. Maybe you can smell my perfume better like that. Lavender.”, Spencer chuckled. “Sexy. Kissing a smoker only seems good in the movies.” “You know movies?”, she said, playfully mocking him. “Russian and black-and-white ones.”

“You´re a little nerd, huh?

“Hope that’s not a deal breaker?”, she looked at his little worried, almost insecure look.

 Yes, the junkie who just ruined his night, by having a mental breakdown, would think a nice, smart guy that liked watching ‘Dr. Who’ was a dealbreaker.

“It´s actually kinda cute.”, he let out an adorable giggle and for a second she could feel her heart skip a beat.

 *****

 Spencer had gotten them a hotel room in a small hotel with individual, private entrances. Definitely not as classy as [y/n] was used to, but private enough, not to be seen. Before, he had bought her nicotine patches and gum and they had gotten some pizzas.

 Now her arm was plasters with some of the patches and they sat on the bed, eating pizza and watching ‘10 things I hate about you’, making him see just how quirky [y/n] could be. Singing along to every song, telling him how much she loved watching it, secretly at a friend’s home, as a teen; giggling like crazy when something funny happened and gushing over things she thought to be romantic. Spencer had given her her medication and the withdrawal, at least in the moment, seemed to be manageable.

 After the movie she had insisted on him picking something, making him extremely nervous. He didn’t think that any of his picks would have her enjoy the next two hours, but she didn’t let him say no. So he put in an old black and white movie called ‘La Dolce Vita’, about a week in the life of a philandering tabloid journalist living in Rome. He laid down in bed and signaled [y/n] to come closer. She had quickly cuddled up beside him, seemingly touch starved by the way she held him close. A very familiar feeling for Spencer.

 After he had begun stroking her hair, she had fallen asleep faster, then he had fallen for her.

 Seeming to like every side of her, every part, no matter how damaged or ugly. Spencer had pulled the sleeping girl a little closer, gently kissing the top of her head and smiling to himself. What he had smelled two days ago, had been lavender. He drifted of as well, only waking up half an hour later, when the credits woke him.

Turning the TV off, before laying close to [y/n] again, now spooning up behind her, face buried in the crook of her neck, arms wrapped tightly around her.

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To be continued...

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Give me your feedback [also anonymous!]

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Taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed)

[aka-a-shii]

bokuto + 7 + 3 please! ❤

hi anon! thank you so much for participating on my first event! I hope you’ll enjoy this 💖

Bokuto + prompt #7 (“don’t go on that date” “why?” “because it will kill me if you do”) + kiss #3 (small peck, then a passionate kiss)

Just Don’t

Bokuto x Reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none

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You looked at your reflection on the mirror as you readied yourself for this special night.You wore a dazzling red short-sleeved evening gown, with a slit going from your thigh to your ankle, god your so stunning! and your smokey makeup just fit your look

“Right! I am good to go.” You whispered to yourself as you took your purse and made your way out of your humble abode.

but as you stepped out of the house, you were suddenly pushed back in, you looked confused, starinf at the owl-like man in front of you.

“Kou?”

“Y/N..” he was panting, catching his own breath to what seems like he ran all the way from where he was to your front porch.

“what are you doing here??? did you run all the way here???” you asked as his hands gripped your shoulders.

“akaashi...told me...that...that...you’re going...on a...a date... tonight...” bokuto said in between his gasping..

“please...” he looked at you with honey colored pleading eyes

he inhaled deeply, “don’t go on that date!” bokuto said with so much emphasis.

your eyes widened and a playful smirk adorned on your beautiful face.

“why?” you looked intently into his pleading owl eyes.

“BECAUSE IT WILL KILL ME IF YOU DO!” a frown now making its way onto his handsome face

“Y/NNNNNN I DON’T WANT YOU TO GO ON ANY DATES EXCEPT WITH MEEEEEEE I DON’T WANNA SEE YOU WITH SOMEONE OTHER THAN MEEEEEE” bokuto confessed as he hugged you even tighter.

“Is this an on-the-spot confession, Kou?” you asked letting a chuckle out of your throat

he slightly pushed you away to face you as his intent gaze were back onto your e/c orbs. “YES!”

“I like you Y/N, no, I LOVE YOU! and I don’t care how pathetic i look right now, but I will stop you from going on that date! No other man can take you other than me!”

You can help but laugh at how childish he was.

“Y/NNNNNN WHY ARE YOU LAUGHING????”

you wiped a stray tear from your eye and cupped his cheeks, “Kou, I don’t have any intention to date anyone unless its you.” you cooed

“WAIT. DOES THAT MEAN YOU LIKE ME TOO??????” his ears definitely perked up, his toothy grin visible on his face.

but instead of answering, you pecked his lips adoringly.

“is that your answer?” he asked and you nodded in response. he instantly closed the gap between you capturing your lips once again for a passionate kiss, you smiled through the kiss as finally you have him in your arms.

and when you both pulled away you can stop smiling while admiring the man in front of you.

“i still have to go on that date, Kou” you chided earning a gasp from bokuto.

“WHAT??? AM I NOT YOUR BOYFRIEND NOW????” he whined and you definitely saw how his hair deflated at the sudden change of his mood.

“You are!” you laughed as you hugged him. “and as my boyfriend, you wouldn’t want my brother to disapprove of you by making me late on our date, won’t you?”

his face went from emo to a very confused one “WAIT! YOUR BROTHER IS YOUR DATE?” he face-palmed himself

“yep! and i will be late if my uber leaves without me” you said poiting at the car outside your flat.

“THEN LET’S GO MEET MY FUTURE BROTHER-IN-LAW” he chimed excitedly as he gently dragged you into your uber not minding that you’re letting him gate crash a family event.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

taglist: @gabbywubby @madskaay @mrs-kuroojinguji @turquoiselace @churochuu @tsukeijii

[booksonablog]

Self-Defense - Johnny Lawrence Imagine Part 2

Summary: After getting jumped the other night, Johnny spends the day with you in hopes of making you feel better, instead, making you feel more like a damsel in distress. Meanhwile, you finish the day off with a moment of vulnerability while Johnny gets into a situation of his own.

The morning after the incident, you awoke in Johnny’s bed. The sun peeked through the shades behind his bed, his blonde locks glimmered in the rays. You rested your head back on his tummy. The movement gently shook his chest. He inhaled deeply, tilting his head down slightly to see you resting in the same spot you feel asleep in. He smiled, head resting back on the pillow. He caressed your hair, watching your shoulder relax.

“Good morning.” He smiled, voice gravily.

Your fingers were playing with the end of his shirt, the cut on your fingertip brought back the memory of last night.

Johnny’s finger poked at your head, a smile sneaked its way across your face. You slowly moved your head just enough for Johnny to see your eyes.

“Hey? Why are you ignoring my good morning wish, I don’t hand those out to just anyone.” He joked, stroking your bruised cheek carefully.

“Good morning.” You mumbled into his tummy.

He gave you a sympathetic smile and shifted his weight so you couldn’t hide your face anymore.

“C’mere.” He tugged you up closer to him.

You leaned on your elbow and faced him, eyes on his bed sheets, picking at the lint.

He lifted your chin, “Hey, you okay?”

You nodded.

He could tell something was wrong but sensed you wouldn’t be opening up about it quite yet. He hated to see you like this, hurt, physically and emotionally. If he could give you everything you wished for he would.

“Well how bout’ some breakfast?”

Your eyebrow furrowed, “You’re gonna make breakfast?”

He scoffed, “Yeah I’m gonna make breakfast. You don’t like my cookin princess?” He teased, poking your side. You let out a giggle. His cooking wasn’t gourmet, but it wasn’t terrible either. Nor did he cook very often, which is why you were so surprised.

***

Johnny had ended up making scrambled eggs with toast and fresh-cut oranges. Meanwhile, you were fixing yourself up in the bathroom, brushing your teeth and showering. You wiped the mirror, scanning your face. You definitely looked better than you did last night, but still not great. The cut on your forehead wasn't too bad as blood had stopped gushing out of it. The scratches on your cheek from hitting the pavement were starting to heel, but the cut on your lip and the big bruise on your cheek were still humiliating to look at. You threw Johnny’s Zebra shirt back on, none of his pants fit you so you kept your underwear on for bottoms, you were positive he wouldn’t mind. You walked out to the kitchen where he was scooping eggs onto a plate. You couldn’t help but smile.

“Ooo. I like that.” He referred to your “outfit,” glancing over at you and making his way to the stove. You walked over to the table and eyed the picture perfect breakfast he had served. You pulled back the chair - Johnny had quickly snuck his arm under yours and gave you a gentle squeeze, kissing the top of your head.

“Beautiful.” He whispered, removing his arm and making his way to the chair beside you. You loved the little intimate moments like this, but you just couldn’t help but still feel embarrassed about last night, not to mention how terrible you felt you looked.

The two of you had ate breakfast in peace, enjoying every bite of food in the company of the other. You happened to glance at the clock on the stove. It was two o’clock in the afternoon, both of you had woken up late, with good reason however.

“Babe, don’t you have to start getting ready?” You asked, swishing the eggs around in your mouth.

“Nah I’m taking the day off.” He said, grouping his eggs together before attacking them with his fork.

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?”

“Cuz’ I wanted to spend time with my girl.” He winked at you. You smiled and continued eating. Part of you was flattered, but the other part felt like a baby. Of course you enjoyed his company and yes it made you feel better with him around, but if you had just been able to protect yourself, maybe you wouldn’t be such a burden, you thought.

***

The two of you had spent the remainder of the day watching some 80s hit films till you decided it was time to head home. He invited you to stay, and when you declined he asked if you wanted him to stay at your place tonight, even if it was just till you fell asleep, but you declined that offer as well. You would have accepted otherwise, had you not felt so much like a damsel in distress. You thanked him nonetheless, telling him that you just wanted to sit in the bath for a while and get some rest. He didn’t press on, walking you to your door and planting a kiss before leaving you. Even as he left, he still wondered what was going on in that head of yours. He respected your need for space, but he wished he could do something to make you feel better.

***

The ring of the door to the mini-mart sounded as Johnny swung it open. He went straight for the beers, digging into the back of the fridge. The door rang again, two men walking in. Johnny did a double-take, glancing at the men. He scanned them from head to toe. The men were purchasing two cartons of cigarettes and a pack of gum, handing their money to the clerk. Johnny’s hand balled into a fist, recognizing that both men seemed to fit the description of the men that jumped you, with the exception of their clothes. The men grabbed their change before leaving the store. Johnny placed his beer back, closing the door of the fridge before following the men outside.

Outside, the men had their trunk open, placing their bags in the back. Johnny managed to catch a glimpse of the belongings in the trunk and there it was - your purse. No doubt about it that it was yours - he had given you a Cobra Kai patch which you turned into a keychain, and there it was dangling in the thief's trunk.

The men were in mid-conversation when Johnny interrupted them.

“Hey assholes!” He said with a kick to the man’s face. The man dropped to the ground, the other was in a state of shock before he attempted to throw a punch which Johnny blocked.

It took a less than a minute for Johnny to knock these men out. He grabbed one of the men that remained conscious, pulling them up by the collar.

“You two jumped that woman last night? The one with the black purse?” He grunted

“No no man - I-”

“DON’T LIE TO ME ASSHOLE!!”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry - yes - we - we did - please man -”

“You stole her phone and her purse?!”

“Y-yes - it’s in the trunk.”

“Listen to me now asshole -” he shook the trembling man, “If you ever so much as cross the opposite side of the road as her, I will fucking kill you.” He hissed. 

“IS THAT UNDERSTOOD!?”

“Y-yes yes!”

“Good.” Johnny threw the man to the ground.

***

With your purse and phone in hand, Johnny knocked on your door. He heard fumbling on the other side, furrowing his brows at the commotion.

“Hi.” You hiccupped. It took one look at you for Johnny to understand that you’ve been drinking.

“C’mon - I mean, come in.” You sniffled, stumbling backwards towards the living room.

“You alright?” Johnny asked rhetorically, closing the door behind him. He spotted half an empty bottle of wine laying sideways on the floor. You weren’t much of a drinker, at least not compared to him, the most he’s ever seen you drink was about two beers max.

You nodded, grabbing your wine glass. Johnny placed your purse on the table. He walked over to you, placing a hand on your hip and the other over your glass.

“What do you say we put this down.” He said, slipping his fingers under yours, grabbing hold of the glass. You frowned, walking away from him. He placed the glass on the kitchen counter. He looked back at you to see you sitting on the couch, your head in your hands. He heard your faint whimpers. Johnny walked over to you, bending at the knees so he could look up at you.

He placed his hands on your knees, giving them a squeeze. “Baby, what’s going on?” His voice was sincere.

You sniffled and looked down at your boyfriend. Tears streamed down your face. “Look at me. I look like a fucking rag doll.” You cried again.

He rubbed the knee of his drunken sweetheart. “It doesn’t look so bad babe.” He said, referring to your scratched up, bruised face.

“You don’t think it’s that bad?! Are you looking at it?!”

“Hey, relax, do you know how many facial bruises I had? It makes you look badass.”

You shook your head. “I don’t wanna look badass - I wanna be badass.” You slurred.

He stifled a laugh. “Babe, you are a badass. You’re one of the most badass women I know.”

You shook your head again, eyes closed. “No I’m not - you’re lying.” You whimpered.

“Babe-”

“I’m soft - ” you interrupted with a sniffle, “I don’t want to be soft anymore. I want to be bloody knuckles and glass shards - I want people to be afraid of hurting me.”

He felt bad about finding this side of you humorous. “Well, maybe your boyfriend can help with that.”

You opened your eyes to look down at his mischievous smirk. “I’m not saying it’ll make the pain go away, but it’ll make you strong and confident, and I think it could make you feel better.”

You stared at him, looking in both eyes to see that he was serious. “You’re gonna teach me karate - Sensei?”

He chuckled at the nickname. “Yes ma’am.”

Stay tuned for Part 3 where Johnny teaches the reader karate 👀

Hope you enjoyed this one! 

(Also I am very proud of how well the gifs fit into the story, do you guys think the gifs add a good visual to the storyline? Would love to hear your thoughts!) 💕