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captainaikus · 3 years ago

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ℝ𝕌𝕀ℕ 𝕐𝕆𝕌ℝ 𝕃𝕀𝔽𝔼 (𝟙/𝟜)

♱ Pairings : Sensei! Fushigurō Tōji x fem! student! reader (Tōji is 47 and reader is 21)

♱ MDNI, Minors stay the fuck out.

♱ Content of the series : Non con, blackmail, sextortion, exploitation, playing with emotions, abuse of power, power imbalance, age gap, mentions of death (on Tsumiki's part), cheating (from both reader and Tōji), toxic relationships, sexual themes, and Tōji’s attitude.

♱ Synopsis : By sending revealing pictures to the wrong contact, you dug your grave before your math teacher. However, he has other plans to save your reputation.

♱ Warnings (for part 1) : Blowjobs, non con, throat fucking, mild degradation.

♱ Notes : It’s here !! I know it’s been a while since I last posted, currently my blog is still under construction. From now on, I can’t promise if I’m going to be posting on weekends or specific days of the week. I’ll get it to it when I get to it. Anyway, this is one of my first writings with Tōji and not using as many japanese words except basic ones. Tōji's second wife is Hina, a name I came up with to fill in the void. There would be more content with Haru and reader's relationship in the next part.

As always, this will be edited if I find any mistakes while re-reading it.

Do not copy, repost, translate or edit my works.

Message sent

You clicked your phone shut, relaxing into the chair behind your desk, fingernails tapping against the surface of the grained wood in nervousness of the reply you would get back from your boyfriend. ‘Would he like it?’ You thought as you rubbed your sides. Hearing the ping of your phone, you saw the sender of the notification.

‘Fushigurō sensei’.

Scrunching your eyebrows in frustration, you picked up your phone. ‘Strange… why would he be texting me at this hour?’ You thought, unlocking your phone and entering the chat room.

‘Care to explain why I have these images?’ The text read. Your eyes widened in shock as you scrolled up through the thread of previous texts. The images weren’t sent to your boyfriend… but it was sent to your math teacher, being one of the recent contacts due to the set of questions you had for the upcoming paper.

Hands shaking from the realization of what you had done that could jeopardize your education, you typed out.

‘Please don’t tell anyone about this sensei’.

With the appearance of three dots and it quickly disappearing, you could feel your heart race. Pacing around your room with your phone in your hand, you began to about the possible things he could pull. The tale of the devilishly handsome yet sleazy teacher had been famous in the university, but it only remained a speculation rather than the truth. Fushigurō sensei was known to be a dirtbag who came from a rich family. He abandoned all of it for the sake of rebellion. Rumor has it that he was a part of a family of famous Japanese assassins. Albeit, he does have a family, it is a very broken one. His family was that of a son who is the same age as you but studies in a different university, he currently lived with his second wife and her daughter, who is in a coma from an accident on the bridge.

With the soft vibration of your phone on the palm of your hand, you took a deep breath before turning it over to look at your screen. ‘Come to my office after class tomorrow. Better to discuss your actions in person rather than do it over the phone”.

Fuck you were screwed.

With the tune of the bell, the day of attending university classes had come to an end. Tapping on the wooden desk of your classroom, you quickly shoved all your splayed out books into your bag and began to walk towards the dreaded office of your math teacher. With the vibration of your phone you looked down to see the sender of the message.

Message from Haru.

Haru : “Waiting outside. You coming?”

You : “Can’t. Gotta solve a set of doubts for the upcoming test.” You typed gingerly.

Haru : “Which one?”

You : “Mathematics.”

Haru : “Yeah… can’t help you there. What time should I come pick you up?”

You : “Go on without me. I’ll drop by later this week with takeout.”

Haru : “Takeout huh… lucky! (^-^) Might as well consider it a home date then…”

You : “Consider it as more of a make-up for missing your football meet today. Anyway, I gotta go. Good luck! Stay safe and don’t get hurt. And if you do, there’s a new set of bandages and spray at the top of the shelf in your bathroom by the first aid kit.”

Haru : “Ahh stop worrying about me and do that to your test instead. Love ya!”

With a smile playing on your lips at the thought of the goofy smile Haru had… you wrote back “Love you too. Get going”

Clicking your phone shut, you came to a halt in front of Tōji's door. Lifting your hand up, you knocked on his door with your clenched knuckles.

“Come in.” The raspy voice on the other side of the door said. Pushing down the handle, you entered the room only to be greeted with the sight of your sensei seated at his desk, legs propped up on his table in a disrespectful yet casual manner.

“You said you wanted to talk about what happened yesterday face to face rather than on text sensei?” You asked, closing the door behind you. Pulling his arms from behind his head, he folded them in front of his muscular chest. Analyzing you from head to toe, he gave a gesture with his hand. “Take a seat first (L/N).” With your lips sealed into a tight line, you gingerly pulled the seat away from the opposite side of the desk and took your place, clutching your bag tightly on your lap. Kicking his legs off the table, you watched as Tōji placed his folded arms against the grained wood of his desk. “You know… for a student as modest as you, I didn’t think you were the type to send such kind of pictures. Care to explain why…” he said as he dangled his phone in front of you, shoving the images in your face, “I have this?”. With a gulp, you felt your fingers go numb and your body shake. “It was meant for my significant other sir.” You answered in a meek voice. With a smirk, Tōji leaned in further, pushing his elbows and resting his chest on his desk. “Significant other you say? If that’s the case…” he trailed off, not dropping the smirk from his face “I should show these… lovely images to him instead.” Dropping your bag onto the floor, you slapped your palms on the wooden desk. “Please sensei! Don’t do it. Please.” You begged in desperation, tears pooling at the corner of your eyes. With a click of his tongue, Tōji got up from his desk and walked over to the cabinet placed in the corner of the room. Pouring himself a glass a whiskey and a glass of water for you, he walked back the desk and stood beside you. Placing the glass of water beside your hand, he said with a firm voice “Drink.” Picking up the glass of water with shaky hands, you sipped slowly while Tōji drank his whiskey lazily, eyes piercing into your shaking figure.

“Alright. I won’t show this to your…‘significant other’.” He said with mockery in his voice, displaying a menacing grin with the flashing of his teeth. “However…” he said, walking to the back of the room, securing the lock in place with a click, “It doesn’t mean I can give your grades that easily.”

You felt your grip become loose around the cup as your eyes widened in fear. Before you could let go of the cup, Tōji was leaning over your numb figure from behind your chair, holding your glass, his large palm encased around your’s while his other hand held his glass of whiskey. “You poor little thing. Look at how much you’re shaking…” he said with a dry chuckle. “Imagine this.” He continued. “Campus flyers talking about a ‘student getting her teacher involved in her love by sending obscene pictures’, ‘University scandal : A student seduces her math teacher’ or worse…” he whispered, leaning closer to your ear,“‘Student is expelled’.”

Your heart beat wildly with every word Tōji said. Not only would you be destroying your reputation, but you would also be a bad example, looked down by teachers who had admired you for your hard work and caliber. And most of all...

What would Haru think?

Feeling tears pooling at the corner of your eyes, your grip around the glass tightened. “Is there any way I can make up for this sensei?” You asked in a sniffled and weak voice. Humming in thought, Tōji answered. “The door is locked. The drapes are down. There’s only me and you in this room. You know the drill.” He rasped into your ear. Turning your head to meet his green orbs, you looked him with surprise. “Or… you can walk right out and deal with the consequences of actions you were responsible for, in the first place.” Tōji said with a sinister smile, moving away from you to take his place on the desk. Clutching the cloth that covered your thighs tightly, you looked down in shame. “What can I do for you sir?” You muttered.

“Come here.” Tōji ordered with the wave of his finger. Standing up from the opposite side of the desk, you moved towards him. “Kneel.” He said with a firm tone. Biting your lip, you began to shuffle your feet on the spot. “I said. Kneel.” Tōji demanded as he swiveled his chair to face you with a glare. With a sorrowed sigh, you dropped to your knees. “Look at me.” He said with a calm voice. Shifting your gaze from your lap towards him, he leaned back into his seat, amused at your sight. “Such a pity that one of the top students in my class and possibly the university was brought to such a shameful level. Well… this is what you get for dragging me into your mess sweetheart.” Tōji said with a dry laugh. “Unbuckle my belt.” He said, sliding a bit down his chair. With shaky hands, you moved forward to unclamp the cool metal buckle of his belt, dragging it along the loops of his pants, letting them fall to the floor. “Unzip them too.” He said with a grin, watching you become flustered as he had barely begun to have his fun. Dragging the zip slowly until it could no further, Tōji got up from his seat only to sit back down, letting his pants pool onto the floor, clinging to his ankles. From the looks of the muscles that adorned his figure, you were sure he exercised to maintain it. As much of an unscrupulous man Tōji was, you couldn’t deny that he was very attractive as well. “Ready to forget that ‘significant other’ of yours that quick?” Tōji asked in a derogatory tone. Biting back your response, you knew better to stay quiet than to aggravate the man who was holding you by the thread of your skin. “Give me your palm.” He said, extending his hand out. Reaching a timid hand towards his, he roughly pushed it towards his hard bulge. “Apply pressure on your fingertips.” Looking at you with lust. Using your fingertips, you began to squeeze the tender flesh underneath his boxers lightly pulling out a groan from his lips. “For someone who is pretty good with her fingers, you sure made a mistake of sending your pictures meant for your ‘significant other’ to me.” Tōji said with a menacing grin, the scar at the corner of his lips giving a his face a frightening image. Choosing to ignore his snide comments, you continued to roll the flesh of his balls with your fingers, eager to get it over with and keep your end of the deal. “Enough.” He said, grabbing your hand roughly and throwing it on the side. “You’re boring.” He said titling his head to the side. Hunching his figure, he brought his face close to yours. “Where did that fire you usually have go?” He asked in a soft yet terrifying voice. “Didn’t you always have something or another to say in my class? Always fucking arguing and I gotta give it to ya.” He said, cracking the base of his neck, moving it side to side “This version of you does look attractive. The once tall and proud student that everyone either hates or admires now broken and pathetic on her knees.” He finished with a sweet and uncomfortable tone. Swallowing the spit that had been building up the base of your tongue, you locked your gaze with him, glaring into those sadistic green orbs. “There’s a start” Tōji said with a wide smile before relaxing into his seat once more. “Pull my boxers down ‘n suck me off” he said lazily, staring at the ceiling above him. Grabbing the edge of his boxers, you pushed the material down, revealing the head of his big cock. It was flushed and the skin of his shaft was smooth all the way down to his heavy balls, making you get a good look of the veins on the underside of his dick.

He must have been planning this since last night.

“Get on with it.” He said impatiently. Shuffling closer, you rested your hands on his toned thighs. With a heavy hand behind your head, you were nudged into his defined pubic bone, your surprised voice muffled by his taut skin. “Start there.” Tōji said, eyes glinting in wonder of what you could possibly do next. Pulling back, you gazed at the sheer size of his manhood. It was bigger than average for a well built man like him, but you were sure you hadn’t come across something this big even while watching something as superficial and mundane as porn. “Ya scared?” Tōji taunted you, using his big palm to caress the swollen head of his fat cock, collecting the pool of precum within the ring of his index and thumb. Shaking your head, you watched as Tōji stroked his cock a few times before telling you “Open your mouth.”

Parting your lips, he slipped both his fingers in. “Make sure to fucking clean it all. Hate fucking messes.” He said with a smirk, pushing the tip of his thumb further into your mouth. Pressing your tongue flat down, he laughed at your gagged reaction before you took his hand firmly and placed it on the side of your mouth, grazing yourself teeth and letting your tongue clean the remnants of his essence.

“Still got that fight in ya huh… makes it all the more fun for me.” Tōji chuckled. Pulling his hand back, he spread his legs apart on his seat. With a tilt of his head towards his cock that needed attention, you knew what you had to do. Giving the head of his length a kitten lick, Tōji grew impatient and pushed your head down until it was nearly halfway through. Gagging around the sudden intrusion into your throat, you glared at him. “What? Just gettin to the good part real quick .” He chuckled darkly. Taking your time, you tried to adjust the size of his cock with that of your throat until you were comfortable to bob your head back forth, using your hand to cover where you couldn’t reach.

'At least the bastard was patient'

“Now that you got used to it. Time ta kick thing uppa notch ain’t it?“ Tōji raised with a flash of his teeth. Before you could pull back and ask him what that meant, he abruptly pulled your head back by grabbing the locks of your hair, letting strings of saliva and precum connected between the head of his cock and your lips fall. Reaching down for throat, he made you look at him and with a menacing expression, thrust most of his length back into your throat. Your eyes watered from the gagging sensation at the back of your throat, but it didn’t stop Tōji from rutting into your mouth.

“Take it all. You’re gonna be a good student right? Do what your sensei tells you to.” He groaned a he felt your tongue on the veins of his shaft. Feeling himself getting close, he pulled his cock out of your abused mouth. Pumping his cock with his fist, he came all over your face, painting your cheeks and lips white with his cum.

“Woulda fucked you too sweetheart but home calls.” Tōji said with a smile, patting the side of your cheek. Grabbing a couple of wipes from his desk, he cleaned himself up before tossing the box over to you. Taking the box into your hands, you looked at him with a sour expression. “What? I might be a bastard but even I’m not that heartless.” He chuckled. Wiping your face, you quickly got up from your knees that had a dull ache from being positioned on the floor too long and picked up your bag, making a beeline for the women’s room.

Looking into the mirror, you felt pathetic. Not only were you a cheater on your loving boyfriend, but you had also fallen into the deep abyss of no return from having a forbidden session with your teacher and couldn’t stop admiring his body too. Placing a shaky hand over your throat in the mirror you could still feel the sting of the stretch from Tōji’s cock. You could feel the throbbing of your cunt that ached to be filled. Clenching your teeth you cursed yourself for even daring to think about doing the prohibited when you were taken.

'Bastard didn’t even bother getting me off… but maybe this would be the last time I went to his office.'

Walking out of the women’s room after making sure your smudged makeup was fixed, you were met with two distant figures in the hallway. Coming closer you saw Tōji smiling fondly and a woman who was much softer than him. Moving past them, you quickly tried to make your way through the doors when you felt something fall behind you. Looking down, you realized you forgot to zip your bag properly in a haste, causing your textbook to fall. Reaching for the book, your hand was met by dainty ones. Looking up, you watched at the woman smiled at you, returning your book.

“Here.” He said in a kind voice, ushering her book towards you. “Thank you.” You said, with a slight bow, taking the book from her hands and slipping it into your bag. You felt her stare as you quickly shoved the textbook into your bag, making you feel uncomfortable. Looking at her, you smiled awkwardly, pulling up the zip of your bag. “You remind me so much of my daughter…” the lady said with a smile. Turning to Tōji she said with a laugh, “Doesn’t she look like our Tsumiki?”. Eyes shifting back and forth between his wife and you, Tōji said with an awkward chuckle “This is (L/N) (F/N) from my advanced math class. She just came by to discuss… a set of problems she had.”

Sly fox.

“I’m Fushigurō Hina. Married to this stupid man.” Hina said jabbing a finger into Tōji’s side, laughing at her own joke while the taller man gave a wry smile.

Guilt stricken, you felt a pang in your heart at the woman’s innocence, no knowledge of what happened behind the closed doors of her husband’s office. “With your permission, I’ll take my leave.” You said curtly, giving a low bow before turning on your heel. “But it is already late (Y/N) Chan… would you like for us to drop you?” Hina said with a polite smile. “That won’t be necessary Fushigurō san. I can walk to my place.” You said. “I insist. Let me drive you home.” She responded with a playful pat to your shoulder. “If it’s not too much trouble…” you said, walking with her to the parking lot with Tōji in tail.

Standing in front of the Fushigurō’s residence you began to wonder how did you land yourself in such a sticky situation.

“Thank you for the ride Fushigurō san” you said, opening the door of the car. “Ah! (Y/N) Chan. Would you like to have dinner with us tomorrow night?” Hina asked, turning back from the driving wheel to face you in the back seat. Not knowing what to say, you stalled with your words, “Um… wouldn’t it be rude of me…?”.

“Not at all. Megumi is in another university and we barely get to see him. As for Tsumiki…” she said with her eyes saddening. “It’s been a while since we’ve had a child around the house. And both of them are close to your age. Would you take pity on a mother’s yearning heart and join us for dinner? I would like to know more about you.” Hina said, hands gripping tightly on the wheel. Eyes looking into the side mirror of the car, you watched as Tōji clenched his teeth.

“What time should I come?”

Feet tapping against the stone path laid out in front of the door, you carefully held the bouquet of flowers and a box of mochi. With the ring of the doorbell, you were greeted with a smile from Hina. “Please come in.” She said with a wave of her hand. “Thank you for having me over.” You said, taking a step into the house. “Tōji kun !! (Y/N) Chan is here!!” Hina shouted from the base of the stairs. With heavy footsteps, you watched the tall man join the both of you at the bottom of the stairs. He wore a clad black shirt that hugged his form all too well, making his pectorals stand out along with those mouthwatering abs which you never got to see despite him having you on your knees, along with a set of tanned pants that hung loosely around his hips. “I know you hate your math sensei, but glare holes into me during class not before dinner (Y/N).” Tōji said with a charming smirk.

Cheeky bastard.

“These are for you Fushigurō san.” You said, handing her the bouquet and box of mochi. “Thank you (Y/N) Chan. These are lovely. I’ll go put them in a vase of water.” She said, taking the items from your hand and moving to the kitchen. “Why don’t you and Tōji kun sit in the living room and chat while I fix up something before dinner?” She asked with a smile. Forcefully biting your tongue in horror, you watched as Tōji’s lips curled into that of a sadistic smile. With a nod, you followed him into the living room. Walls decorated with frames surrounded empty chairs within the living room. Sitting on the opposite side of the room, Tōji waved a hand for you to take a seat. Plopping yourself on the sofa, you watched as the tall man before you placed a hand under his chin, lips curled to the side, exposing his teeth.

“Never would’ve expected such a church mouse of a student to infiltrate my phone let alone my humble home.” He said with a cackle.

Two could play at this game here. He wouldn't dare pull a move in front of his own wife now, would he?

“The 'church mouse' of a student was invited by your spouse, sir.” You retorted, form relaxing into the chair, aware of the fact that you were pushing your luck.

“Putting your mouth where your money is when I could make life hell for you?” Tōji questioned, joining his hand and throwing his leg to the side.

“I paid you back in kind within the privacy of your office, sir.” You said with your eyebrows raised. “Dinner is served!” Hina yelled, wiping her hands with a towel as she walked into the living room. Getting form the chair, Tōji bumped shoulders with you as you both followed Hina into the dining room. “Don’t forget you have one year left (Y/N). You’re nothing more than a mere puppet now. Don't you dare forget that.”

'Fushigurō Hina' the contact said as you stared it, seated on your mattress.

The profile was of her with the branch of a cherry blossom, standing next to Tsumiki.

“You should take my number. Who knows what kind of nutrition you’ve been taking and nothing is more better than some good home cooked food! Besides, if there’s anything you need, you can let me know.” She said with a kind smile, stretching her cellphone out. Taking her cell hesitantly, you wrote your number while Tōji was within the privacy of his office, using the time after dinner to talk to his son over Skype.

Taking the phone out of her hands, you typed your number before handing out your phone to do the same. While Hina typed her number in, you began to look around the room, analyzing pictures every frame held. Your gaze was fixated on one that held Hina and Tsumiki standing together under the cherry blossom tree.

“We took that picture about two years ago” Hina said, handing you back your phone. “It’s also the day we lost Tsumiki. She was such a sweet child. Megumi and I didn’t get along well to begin with… regardless, she always looked out for him. I remember his jacket being stained from sweet milk that Tsumiki threw at him one time. She grumbled about something like ‘putting him in his place.’” Hina chuckled, lifting her hand to her lips.

“How did she…?” You curbed your words, hoping Hina would get the message.

“She went across the Yasohachi bridge on a dare with her friends. The bridge had been ill fated from the start as there had been many disappearances… but why my Tsumiki?” Hina said with tears brimming at the corner of her eyes. “I know I haven’t been the best example of a parent… but why did my little girl have to pay in my stead?” She asked, using the sleeves of her long dress to wipe away the stray tears of her makeup that smudged her face.

Not being able to comfort her with the right words, you rubbed her back until her sniffles began to die down. “There were so many things I wanted to do with Tsumiki… I wanted to go places with her, take her to see the world… but it barely started when she-” Hina said between sobs, holding your hand.

Using the strength of your hand, you squeezed her hand back with enough force that assured her that her truth and emptiness was accepted. You rubbed smooth and gentle circles into the skin of her hand. With a light chuckle she placed her free hand on top of yours. “I’m sure I seem pitiful to you, don’t I.” She said with a watery smile.

“No Fushigurō san. If anything, you deserve more better than what you’re going through.” You said with a tight lipped smile.

Tilting her head at your words, she chuckled withdrawing her hand to tap it lovingly on the side of your cheek. “We should go out next week! I hear the shopping complex near the station is a popular place for university students like you.” Hina said. Hearing heavy footsteps approach the both of you, you turned to see the tall man stand behind his spouse, a hand on her shoulder. “Hope you two didn’t have too much fun while I away on call.” He said with a wry smile.

“Before I overstay my welcome, I’ll take my leave. Dinner was lovely and I should be on my way now.” You said with a small bow, hand reaching forward for the door knob.

“I’ll drop her.” Tōji said, grabbing his coat. Tōji left no space to argue as he opened the door before you, ushering you out whilst he grabbed his keys from the hook and stepped outside behind you.

“Don’t forget about next week!” Hina shouted from the door as she waved you goodbye. With thin lips, you returned the gesture before getting into the car, being driven into the darkness of the street ahead of you with Tōji driving next to you. With ten minutes of silences between the both of you, he pulled the car to a stop and reached over to your side of the vehicle. Stiffening up at his closing in on your personal space, you flinched.

“Relax. We’re here.” He said, pointing to the entrance of your apartment.

‘Sleazy bastard at least knows his manners.’

“Thank you for the ride.” You said meekly, opening the door of the car to step onto the pavement, only for it to be slammed shut by Tōji.

“I don’t think you quite get it (Y/N). The reason I didn’t do anything to you is cause the odds are in my favor. If you think I’m gonna get you free of service, you’re wrong. I’m gonna make you work for your service to me.” He said with a laugh.

“You’re sick.” You said, gritting your teeth. “Never denied it sweetheart. Now get your ass back home before I decide to change my mind.” Tōji responded arrogantly, kissing the tip of your nose. Wiping away his kiss in defiance, you stepped out of the car, preventing yourself from slamming the door of it, opting to act humble and close it gently.

‘Kissing up his ass is the only way to go since aggravating him would do no good.’

Not daring to look back, you could hear the grind of rubber wheels against the road, heading into the dark path with an occasional light from street lamps that littered the street.

With a heavy breath, you gave yourself a mental pat for getting through the evening of your teacher's home before walking up the steps to your apartment.

Upon reaching the final step of the staircase, you turned to your door, only to find a figure standing in front of it, rocking themselves back and forth on their heels. Approaching near, with the keys of your apartment dangling from your clenched fist, your eyes widened in recognition of the figure.

"Haru?" you said aloud in surprise.

"Yo." came a light hearted reply with a small wave of his hand.

♱ Reblogs and likes are appreciated !! Askbox is open for rants and discussions !! Thank you for reading!!

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bratkook · 4 years ago

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one chance. (m) knj. teaser.

pairing. flash!namjoon x reader genre. fluff, angst, smut, superhero!au word count. approx 20k warnings. light hearted, some fighting (not graphic), mentions of character death (also not graphic...or permanent), mutual pining, namjoon is an adorably sweet dork !! smut: tbd as i write! but ofc filthy summary. namjoon knows he only has one chance to go back and make things right, but is he prepared to live with the potential consequences that his actions could cause? note. this was going to be part of a bts super hero collab that fell through (& i hope the author’s involved still post their fics) i’m about halfway through writing it and hope this will give me the motivation to finish it lmao. i might do a tag list if anyone is interested?? lmk muah.

The searing pain is felt before Namjoon even hits the floor, shooting down his fingertips when he attempts to move them, making his shoulder ache with each breath he takes. The plastic drums he had just collided into—an impact at a speed they weren’t designed to withhold—lay tattered in bits and chunks all around him, cold water that would typically be held inside them now spilled out and soaking into his suit.

A hiss escapes his lips as he remains on the wet floor, already hearing the rushing footsteps approaching him. “It’s broken!” he shouts out, wincing when he once again attempts to move his arm. “Why isn’t it healing if it’s broken?”

When you and Hoseok finally reach him, you breathe a sigh of relief. From the absolute chaos his crash had caused, you were expecting to see him a lot more battered and bruised. Instead he lay on his side, hand gently cradling his aching shoulder with a grimace on his face.

“Holy shit, that was awesome.” Hoseok barely spares a glance at Namjoon, overstepping him to assess the damage caused, tapping away at the screen of his tablet as he does so, checking the speed data he had captured.

“You told me these would hold,” Namjoon grumbles, foot kicking a nearby scrap of plastic, another groan leaving him when his shoulder throbs.

“That was just a guess.” Hoseok brushes him off, continuing to type away as he circles the crash scene. He only approaches Namjoon to pluck the Go-pro off his head, pocketing it with a sheepish smile on his face.

With a subtle eye roll, you’re crouching down to meet Namjoon’s body, hands gently reaching out to see what the problem was. He lets his hand fall from it’s protective position, eyes squeezing shut as he waits for the burst of pain to come, jaw clenching when your fingers press along his shoulder, clearly feeling the way it had popped out of place.

“It’s not healing because it’s not broken.” Namjoon finally opens his eyes now, peering up at you and gulping when he realizes just how close you are. He can clearly see the worry in your eyes as you try to see just how bad it is, a crease between your brows that he wants to rub out with the pad of his thumb, small frown on your lips that only makes him feel worse for going against your warning of this being a bad idea.

A small huff spills from your lips once you realize you won’t be able to help him until you’re back at the lab without this suit—a suit that Hoseok calls his pride and joy—covering him up. “It’s dislocated. You probably tore some ligaments and tendons, but those will heal up just fine once we pop it back into place.”

“Wait, is that gonna hurt?” he whines out, huffing out the strands of his brown hair that had fallen over his face and gasping in pain when you purposely prod at the swollen joint with a small glare.

“I’ll make sure it does so you remember to never go against my warnings.”

“Oh god, you’re doing this on purpose!” Namjoon yells, sat on the cold chair, knees pulled up as he braces for the pain.

“I told you I was,” you smirk, extending his arm out, hands placed against his palm with the other on his trap muscle to get a good grip. The loose threads of his suit tickle his skin, a product of you cutting the fabric to double check that the only thing wrong was in fact his dislocated shoulder.

Did you actually have to cut it? No. This was just your childish way of getting back at Hoseok for convincing Namjoon to do this.

The grimace never leaves his face as you stretch the limb out, twisting it slowly to the right angle before pulling back with a slight pop once it settles back into its rightful spot.

He feels the relief instantly, tense muscles relaxing as he sags back into the chair, face no longer contorted in pain when you gently lower his arm. Namjoon swears he’s never felt better, already able to lift his arms as if nothing ever happened, the torn tendons quickly repaired and back to normal thanks to his regenerative ability.

“Good to go. If you pop it out of place again you’re gonna have to do it yourself.”

“Yeah right. I’ll just have Hoseok do it for me.”

Right on cue, a crash sounds out behind you, followed by a shout and an apology as Hoseok picks up whatever gadget he was currently working on.

“You sure about that?” you question with a smug smile, crossing your arms under your chest as you step back. As smart and helpful as Hoseok was, his mind was far too focused on the technology surrounding him. If Namjoon seriously injured himself, the only person who would know what to do, was you.

He knew this, and sometimes he liked that fact, not opposed to the way you’d constantly worry about him—totally choosing to ignore the reason why you did so was because it was your job. That tiny factor in the equation was tucked into the back of his mind. His small crush was innocent, and if looking forward to seeing what color lipstick you’d wear that day helped him deal with getting poked, questioned, and forced to run on a treadmill to document his speed, then that's fine by him.

“I won’t dislocate my shoulder again. I promise.”

Something about the smile on his face does nothing to ease your worry, and as Hoseok emerges from his room with a giddy laugh, you feel the need to pry.

“What the hell were you trying to do anyway?”

“I think we’re close!” Hoseok announces, your question being brushed aside as he thrusts his tablet into Namjoon’s now fully mobile arms. The only thing lighting up the screen is a skew of numbers along with a diagram and some fancy looking animated figure that slightly resembled himself. It meant nothing to Namjoon so he doesn’t bother trying to decipher it, looking back up at Hoseok with a confused expression.

“I don’t think me making those plastic drums explode got us any closer.” A small shiver courses through him as he recalls the pain from his shoulder once more.

“Oh yeah, that was pointless. But I think I figured out another way.” Hoseok grabs the tablet once more, tapping a few more times before another animation fills the screen. Peering over his shoulder you spot what it is, a golden animation of what looks to be a treadmill, swirls flowing on either side of them that you believe to represent wind.

“Another way for what?” You question again, not liking the sly look on Hoseok’s face.

“Time travel.” He says it so casually, not even sparing you a glance as he flips the tablet over to show Namjoon.

That wasn’t what you were expecting. When you had walked in on Hoseok pitching the idea to Namjoon, wanting to document his full speed, push it further to see what more he was capable of, you thought it was just to gather information to help when it came to figuring out a plan of action the next time a meta-human decided to torment the city.

“Time travel?” you repeat, a displeased look on your face that Namjoon spots instantly. The small wrinkle between your brows is back and he can’t even allow himself to find it adorable because the small glare you were giving Hoseok changes course and stares directly at him.

“Yeah,” he quietly admits, pressing his lips together gently. His saving grace comes in the form of his phone ringing loudly, cutting through the tense silence and making him jolt in his seat, hands fumbling for the device.

He has never been more thankful to get a call from work, your scolding being directed at Hoseok now, but Namjoon can hear it through his current conversation. The worried tone in your voice is clear as you question Hoseok’s sanity, stating how dangerous time travel could be in the grand scheme of things. Hoseok can only stumble over his words, flustered at being on the receiving end of your lecture.

Namjoon ends the phone call right on time to hear you shout, “Are you trying to start World War three?!”

“I gotta go…” he whispers, slowly sliding off the chair trying to be as quiet as possible, hoping he wouldn’t be detected. But before he can flash out of there, you’re looking at him again.

“Not so fast.” He freezes instantly, hands lifted up in front of him. “We’re not done talking about this—“

“I know, but I gotta go. I do have an actual job after all.”

Hoseok glares at Namjoon, “So you’re gonna leave me here to get yelled at...alone?”

Namjoon gives him a guilty smile, shrugging and mumbling out a quick apology before bolting out of there—literally. Your hair flows up at the speed, Hoseok’s shirt flapping wildly, and nearby documents scatter around from the gust of air he had caused. The only thing left behind is the red suit draped across the chair he had been sitting on, flashing out of it and into his regular clothes before leaving to work.

“What was the Gopro for?” you question. As much as you didn’t like the idea of time travel, you were slightly curious about the entire situation.

“Just thought it��d be sick to film it. Like imagine if it actually works and we have solid proof?” Hoseok’s eyes glimmer at the prospect of it all, tapping at the screen to replay the footage captured earlier. The two of you have front row seats of Namjoon’s earlier crash, and seeing the chaos along with hearing Namjoon’s grunts of pain a second time makes you glare at Hoseok once again.

You reach forward and grab the discarded red suit from the chair, balling it up and tossing it at Hoseok’s face. “Patch it up. I had to rip the sleeve to properly see his shoulder.”

He whines loudly as he peels the material off of his face, fingers clutching the precious suit and gasping when he spots the torn area. “You monster!”

#namjoon fluff #namjoon angst #namjoon smut #bts fics #new #teaser

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starting-now · 4 years ago

Text

Stitches

Summary: Barry hasn’t been responding to your texts and you decide to go check on him.

A/N: wow i haven’t posted in a hot minute but heres an old wip i finally finished! let me know what you think🥺 i miss writing

Word Count: 1642

Warnings: descriptions of wounds, mentions of death

------

You scanned Barry’s apartment building up and down, then looked back at your phone. Your fingers danced lightly over the screen, scrolling through the messages he had sent you earlier that day.

‘I’m sorry.’

-then a minute later-

‘I don’t know what to say’

-another minute-

‘I love you. And I’m sorry.’

And since then, nothing.

If it wasn’t for the rest of the cryptic bullshit, you would have been utterly caught up on those three little words in his last text...‘I love you’. To be honest, even despite your worry those words echoed in your mind. Still, even after all your responses, asking if he was okay, where he was, if he needed to talk, you hadn’t heard from him all day.

So here you were, staring at his apartment building, trying to gather the courage to approach his door. You tucked your phone into your back pocket and twisted your hands nervously. You knew what he did for work. He had told you months ago and you knew how dangerous it could be. Every time you didn’t hear from him for a while, or he didn’t show up to acting class, you panicked. And today, with the addition of these cryptic messages, your anxiety was through the roof. You had a panic attack on the drive over, every horrible thing that could have happened running through your mind, leaving a burning sensation in their wake.

You finally gained the courage to walk up the stairs, but as you approached the door, it was half open, the lights inside still off. Your panic spiked again. You placed a hand on the door and pushed it open slowly. As the hall light filtered in you saw Barry’s jacket on the floor, stained dark red, and a trail of thick red drops dotting the floor leading to his bedroom.

“...Barry?” you called softly. You furrowed your brow when there was no response, tears pricking your eyes.

“Barry? It’s me.” you said a little louder as you slowly followed the trail of blood down the hall. You heard a soft groan in response. Your pace quickened as you rounded the corner to his bedroom, flicking on the light to see Barry sprawled across his bed on his stomach, his gray shirt stained red with blood that seeped out from his shoulder. You gasped and rushed over to him, kneeling in front of him so you could see his face. He was sweating profusely, his hair sticking to his forehead, his eyes were droopy and tired. You put a hand to his cheek softly.

“Barry? Hey are you with me? Say something.” you said, concern lacing your voice. Barry struggled to keep his eyes open, and he groaned in response.

“(Y/N)?” he mumbled in confusion. He tried to sit up, but hissed in pain and collapsed back on the bed.

“God, Barry you’re hurt, I need to get you to the hospital.” you said, but before you could grab your phone, Barry’s hand was on yours, his grip weak on your wrist but enough to get your attention.

“No hospital. I’ll...I’ll be fine.” he mumbled. You shook your head.

“You need help.” you said simply. You got up and walked into his bathroom, searching for a first aid kit. You finally found one under the sink, and propped it up on the bed.

“I just need to rest.” Barry muttered and you shook your head.

“No, Barry. I need you to stay awake. You’ve lost a lot of blood. Can you sit up for me?” you asked, mustering a calm voice despite the panic. Barry shifted slowly until he sat weakly on the edge of the bed next to you.

“Okay good. Hurt your shoulder?” you asked, gesturing to it as you opened the disinfectant.

“Not me it was the little karate girl.” he said and you did a double take at him before deciding that ‘what the fuck does little karate girl mean’ was a question you’d file under ‘ask later’. You tugged lightly at the hem of his shirt until Barry got the message, maneuvering himself carefully so you were able to remove the fabric. He winced as he moved the muscles surrounding his wound.

You soaked a rag in warm water and carefully cleaned most of the blood away from the wounds on his shoulder, which you could now see were two gaping stab wounds right above his shoulder blade. You winced at the sight of them and quickly doused a clean rag in disinfectant.

Barry hissed in pain as you cleaned the wound and you mumbled a quiet apology as you continued working. Once the area was disinfected you threaded a needle and got to work on the stitches. You clenched your teeth in sympathy as you worked the needle into his skin. Barry was mostly silent through the whole affair apart from a few small low groans, his eyes shut tight and his fists clenched so hard his knuckles were white.

“Alright, last one.” you said quietly as you threaded the last stitch and tied off the end. You disinfected the wound once again and placed some large bandages over the area. Your hands left Barry’s back and folded in your lap as you sat on the edge of the bed, your leg brushing his. A thick silence fell over the room.

“So...are we going to talk about those messages?” you asked quietly as if the moment would shatter at any sudden action.

Barry was silent for a moment. His hands worked over his bruised knuckles in contemplation, his jaw clenching and releasing. But after a few seconds, his back heaved and a shaky breath came out of his mouth, tears falling freely from his eyes. He put his head in his hands and pressed the heels of his palms into his forehead.

You furrowed your brow and placed a hand softly on his arm.

“Hey hey, what’s wrong?�� you said soothingly, running a hand up and down his skin. Barry shook his head and dug his fingers into his scalp, anxiously tugging on the roots of his hair.

“...I’m sorry,” he choked out in a weak voice between sobs. “I shouldn’t have dragged you into all this.”

“Barry I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t care about you. You’re not dragging me into anything.” you said meaningfully, racking your brain for anything you could say to make him feel better. You hated seeing him in pain, whether physical or mental and in this case, it was both. Your heart was breaking for him.

You sat in silence for a few minutes as his breathing evened out, your hand still resting reassuringly on his arm. Barry let out a deep sigh.

“I’m...I’m sorry I worried you. Those messages...I don’t know what to say.” he said, tears slowing and turning into regret.

“It’s...okay. At least they got me here to help you.. Who knows what would have happened.” you said, trying to shake the hypotheticals.

“I know what would have happened.. I would have died.” he said with a humorless laugh.

“Come on I’m sure you would have-”

“No, (Y/N), I mean it. I would have died. That’s...why I sent you those messages.” he confessed in a more serious tone and sat up, keeping his eyes glued to the floor in front of him and his hands folded in his lap.

You didn’t know what to say. For what seemed like the hundredth time tonight you were at a loss for words.

“I do, by the way.” he said simply, finally meeting your gaze. You furrowed your brow in confusion and Barry noticed you hadn’t connected the dots.

“Love you, I mean. I always have.” he clarified, losing what little confidence he had as he heard the words leave his mouth. You felt tears prick at your eyes.

“Oh, Barry, I-”

“No I know. I-I shouldn’t have said it. I shouldn’t have messaged it to you and I definitely shouldn’t have said it again just now. I just figured you should know.” he rambled.

You placed a gentle hand under his chin and tilted his head so he met your eyes.

“Barry, I love you too.” you said, giving him a soft smile. Barry resisted the urge to lean into your touch, a simple question on his mind. He furrowed his brow as tears threatened to fall once again.

“...Why?” he asked emphatically. It wasn’t a plea to hear his good attributes. This was a complete and total disbelief that he was worthy of anyone’s love, let alone yours.

“Maybe we both have self destructive tendencies.” you said jokingly, shrugging and earning a small frown from Barry.

“Or...maybe I just know you. It’s not often you meet someone and really know them. Really see them. But I know you. I see you. And you see me. And maybe...maybe that’s enough.” you finished thoughtfully.

“Do you really mean that?” he asked, searching your eyes hopefully.

“Of course, Barry, I-” you started but were cut off by the feeling of Barry’s lips on yours.

It was a quick kiss before he made himself pull away. He shut his eyes tightly and shook his head.

“Sorry, I should have-”

You cut him off by gently tugging on the collar of his shirt and pulling him in for another kiss.

“It’s okay. Don’t apologize.” you said with a smile. Barry’s expression softened and he leaned his forehead against yours.

“...Can you stay?” he asked quietly.

“Of course.” you responded, bringing your hand up to rest on his cheek and running your thumb across his cheekbone. Barry leaned into your touch, a soft smile on his face.

“But you gotta tell me about this little karate girl.” you said, earning a small laugh from Barry.

“Deal.”

#barry #barry hbo #Barry Berkman #barry block #barry fanfiction #barry berkman x reader #barry berkman fanfiction #barry x reader #im sorry bill hader

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authorized-trash · 4 years ago

Text

To Tie a Knot: Chapter 5: Important Meetings in a Coffee Shop Bathroom

Ao3

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four

Content Warnings:

Self harm, self deprecation, making out, stress, emotional turmoil, elusion to character death, (If anything else needs mentioned tell me)

Chapter Summary:

Damian should know better than to walk into coffee shops when he’s the protagonist of a romance fanfiction smh

Word Count:

3,600+

Note: I posted the last chapter on Ao3 a day or two ago, and it got so many comments so fast I was inspired to write another on. So here is nearly 4k words of >:]. Chapter six is halfway done as well, so please, keep the comments up, I’ve never written so much so fast in my life asdf

By the time noon had come and gone and Logan had left, the others were restless. Patton was stress baking and Roman was practicing his lines a bit louder than normal. Virgil was nowhere to be seen, most likely hiding in their shared room listening to too-loud music.

Patton kneaded dough between his hands, planning on making bread. One would think he would make cookies or something while stressed, but he found the process of homemade bread and the smell of it baking was much better for calming.

Over the years he had gotten pretty good actually, won a few dumb little neighborhood competitions with his baking. His soulmates all adored his cooking, Roman had stated one of his favorite things to wake up to was the smell of pie or bread.

Patton let his mind wander while he worked, thinking about his new soulmate. He couldn’t help the wave of anticipation and impatience that hit him when he thought about their meeting. He was just so excited! A large smile stretched across his face, and he did a few happy stomps with his feet.

Roman stopped repeating his lines and looked over to him, a soft smile on his face.

“You okay over there, dear? You’re lucky that bread isn’t alive, you’re beating it quite thoroughly,” Roman said with a teasing tone.

Patton looked up at him, blushing a bit at being caught, “Oh! Yeah of course I’m fine! I’m just overwhelmingly giddy, I guess.”

Roman laughed and crossed the room with a few long strides, grabbing Patton around the waist and setting his chin to rest on the other’s head. He gave a kiss to Patton’s scalp, and Patton giggled and swatted playfully at him.

“Ro stop, I’m trying to cook,” Patton whined, placing the kneaded dough into a bread pan. He leaned back into Roman’s hold either way, looking up at him through his eyelashes.

“Sorry Sweetheart, I simply couldn’t resist,” Roman winked, laughing softly. They stood there for a few moments in silence, swaying slightly.

“Do you think they’ll like my bread?” Patton asked quietly.

“What? Of course! If they don’t I will have to fight them,” Roman said dramatically. Patton chuckled.

“No fighting Roman, everyone has their own tastes.”

“If someone’s taste doesn’t like your bread, they’re wrong. Sorry, I don’t make the rules,” Roman spun Patton and gave him a peck to the lips.

The oven beeped a few times behind them, and Patton started to squirm in Roman’s hold.

“Babe, you gotta let me go so I can cook!” Patton said, squealing as Roman held steadfast, unmoving.

“Nuh uh, you are in the Princey Dungeon of snuggles and cuddles, I’m very sorry Padre, but I simply cannot let go unless you pay bail.”

“Which is?”

“Kiss me.”

Patton didn’t protest as he pressed their lips together. Roman hummed and smiled into the kiss, trailing his hands up Patton’s back and threading his fingers into Patton’s hair. After a few long seconds they parted for air, but Roman didn’t seem to want to stop, and at this point neither did Patton.

Before long Patton was up against the counter, kissing back with fervor as Roman picked his legs up and sat him on the counter. Patton made a small noise into the kiss, arms draped around Roman’s shoulders.

Just as Roman was teasing his hand up and under Patton’s shirt, a gagging noise came from the door.

“Eugh, can ya’ll like, not be horny in the kitchen please? I don’t want you contaminating my bread.”

Roman nearly fell to his ass with how fast he jumped off of Patton, and Patton buried his head in his hands and grumbled something under his breath.

Virgil laughed all the way to the kitchen’s island, wheezing and wiping tears from his eyes.

“You two should see your faces, you would think your parent’s just caught you or somethin’. Calm thyselves.”

Patton just stood silently and went to put the bread in the oven.

“Wait, excuse you. Your bread? No, sorry sis, it’s mine,” Roman said as he brushed himself off.

“Oh god, please don’t call me sis, I’m your boyfriend, that’s weird,” Virgil said, moving to sit himself up onto the counter on the other side of the room.

“Oh,” Patton spoke up suddenly, “Roman, I meant to ask, how’s Remus? You haven’t talked about him in awhile.”

Roman’s brother Remus visited them every holiday. It was getting close to thanksgiving at this point, and they were all looking forward to seeing him.

Roman shrugged, “Don’t know, haven’t talked to him in… a little over a month now?”

“How come?” Patton asked.

“Normally I’m not the one who reaches out to talk, I just haven’t thought about it. And since, ya know, I don’t talk to my parents, it’s easy to lose contact for larger periods of time,” Roman explained, slumping into a chair at the kitchen table. Patton nodded in understanding.

They went back to their routines, this time with both Roman and Virgil on their phones while Patton baked a few more things.

Half an hour went by with little words, just a comfortable silence as they all enjoyed the company.

A sharp and hard tug caught their attention.

“Ow, damnit,” Virgil said, shaking his hand roughly as if it were burned. The other two looking down at their hands in confusion, wincing as their yellow strings gave another sharp and painful tug.

“Language,” Patton chided absentmindedly, then, “Do they want something?”

“I don’t think people yank on their strings that hard in order to get someone’s attention, Dearest,” Roman said, flinching as he bent his finger. It was already sore.

“They’re not trying to take the string off or something, right? That’s impossible, they should know that,” Virgil said shakily, curling in on himself and his hoodie.

“It is. Maybe they’re not thinking clearly?” Roman said, trying to offer an explanation.

Patton pouted,

“I hope they’re okay.”

Damian was not okay.

You wouldn’t be able to tell it, though, with the way he was carrying himself.

His strides were confident, and he held his head high. He tipped his hat at the people who walked by and offered polite hellos. He looked like every bit of a man who was sure of himself.

But he was far from it, really.

If you knew him personally and were looking closely, you could see the way he sometimes fidgeted with his jacket sleeves. You’d notice the slight tremble in his hands, or the way he seemed to run his fingers through his hair too many times. He honestly probably had his hat off more than he had it on, lifting it off of his head as much as he was.

Damian was a nervous wreck, but a nervous wreck who was good at hiding it.

His classes that day were ridiculously stressful, and it didn’t help when every other person exclaimed suddenly when they noticed the shadows of his soulstrings. He would wave them off, or excuse himself. Hell, a few times he even made up what his soulmates were like. He wove tales of wonderful people who had swept him off his feet, if only to appease the asker and get them to stop bugging him.

He had watched earlier that day as the indigo string seemed to detach from the others, just barely heading in a different direction. It was a very slow process, meaning they were probably decently far, but it still scared him.

Were they going to work? Coming to find him? Oh god, what if indigo left the other three because he couldn’t deal with another string showing up? What if Damian was the reason why they broke up?

No, Damian thought to himself with a shake of his head, no that was ridiculous. Really, he needed to stop letting his head go off in random directions, the self deprecation was getting old.

Damian walked up the steps of his apartment building, entering with a nod towards the doorman. The man smiled and waved.

“Heya, DJ,” He greeted.

“Hello, Larry. How’s the wife?”

“Oh you know her, same old. She’s missed you, you know. You should really come over for some tea sometime soon,” Larry said, opening the door for Damian.

“Sure thing, how does Thursday sound?”

“That would be awesome, see you then, Damian.”

Damian smiled to himself as he entered the elevator to his floor. He let out a shuddery breath. Small talk came to him easily, he was never really introverted to be honest, but that didn’t stop it from being taxing on the days when he really didn’t want to have to see people.

As soon as he crossed the threshold to his apartment, he checked the time.

Okay, it was a little past five in the afternoon, cool. He figured Remy would be up to go somewhere, if he wasn’t already out with Emile.

He shot him a text, which he got an immediate reply on.

Girl course i wanna hang. Ill be there in half hour, see ya hot stuff xoxo

Damian chuckled to himself. Of course Remy would be the kind of person to still unironically use X’s and O’s.

He double tapped the message to like it, and took off for the restroom. He needed to freshen up before he left for the outside world.

He went ahead and re-brushed his teeth, combed his hair, and washed his face. He really needed some moisturizer for his burns, they were getting a little scratchy around the edges, the sensitive skin looking a little red and agitated.

By the time he was done toweling himself off, his eyes fell from his face in the mirror to the strings tied neatly around his fingers. He had spent most of the day ignoring them, other than the occasional check-in on Indigo’s progress.

He looked at them for a long while, feeling how they moved. He always found it so fascinating, how sometimes they would be pulled tight and sensitive to any slight movement, and how other times they seemed to pool onto the floor in piles of color. He figured it depended on some kind of need or something, it was always when someone’s emotions were high that the strings seemed to tighten, maybe as a way to aid communication.

Damian just figured it was some weird magicky shit, and didn’t let it bother him too much. He had gotten over the trying to explain the strings stage back in middle school, back when it was just him and green.

Nausea and guilt ate at his insides even thinking about the green string. It hung loosely to the fingers on the hand opposite the new strings, its once brilliant earthy color now a faded grey.

It was so pale and sad looking in comparison to the other brighter strings, and Damian couldn’t help but want to cry again. It was such a lovely color, and he was sure they would have been such a lovely person.

He didn’t even have a name to mourn, a funeral to attend to. Only a sad little frayed string to cry pitifully over.

And that brings up another question, why frayed? Damian hadn’t met anyone who had a dead soulmate that had a frayed string. Sure, others had their colors dulled, but the end looked clipped with scissors. Damian’s looked as if someone had pulled it apart with their teeth.

It wasn’t fair, Damian thought. It wasn’t fair that he got all these questions. It wasn’t even a simple, “oh no, my soulmate is dead, I’m doomed to be lonely and soulless.” No, he had to deal with all these mysteries. Why frayed? Why four others? Why add him to an already complete group? Why not someone else? Why had it been a month, when the average wait on the reassigning was a week? Were the other’s even able to love him like they loved each other? Damian wasn’t paired with someone equally as heartbroken and lonely, he was paired with an already complete soulmate relationship. Was he doomed to be an outcast?

Damian didn’t want this, he didn’t ask for this.

His emotions were all over the place, but he steeled himself, and with an angry huffed, he grabbed his four strings, and yanked.

White hot, dizzying pain lanced up his arm, and he gave a shout. His vision blanked, and a throbbing headache pounded behind his eyes.

His vision cleared after a while, stars and dots still dancing across his eyes. The pain was so bad, it was nearly incapacitating.

And in a mix of morbid curiosity and the horrible feeling of self loathing, he yanked again, harder.

He stumbled to the ground, sweat beginning to drip from his forehead. His heart was pounding in his ears, and what sounded like a dull roar caused his eardrums to hurt. Every bone in his body ached, and his arm hurt to move.

Well, he thought, guess they were pretty authentic then, at the very least.

He heard a knock at the door and tripped over himself to get up. He dabbed his face with the towel once again, wincing at the pain in his arms.

By the time he left the bathroom, Remy was already standing inside.

“What on earth were you doing in there, you look awful,” Remy asked, before going a bit pale, “You know what? Don’t answer that.”

“Oh shut it,” Damian snapped, taking his hat off the counter and fitting it back into place.

“So, wanna head out to that coffee shop you like downtown?”

Damian shrugged, “Why not.”

“Sweet, let’s blow this popsicle stand.”

Damian sighed but laughed at his friend's antics, following him out the door with a fond shake of his head.

The coffee shop was nice. It was small, cozy, and had a nice arrangement of potted plants scattered about. The barista was kind, and pretty cute. They had a cute grungy-emo thing going on.

Damian had a thing for emos.

He, like normal, had ordered some black coffee with two creams and a sugar, much to Remy’s dismay. Remy had then proceeded to buy some ridiculously over sweetened drink with a stupid name and two muffins to share, much to Damian’s dismay.

“You have got to stop buying food for me Remy, I’m a grown man, I can pay for myself.”

“I offered. Besides, you need your money for your hobbies.”

“What hobbies?” Damian laughed, smiling despite himself.

“I don’t know, your music. You play the clarinet, right?”

“Flute, actually,” Said Damian, rolling his eyes, “And it’s not a hobby. Band was the only reason I managed to get into college. You know this, why are you asking?”

It was Remy’s turn to roll his eyes, “Small talk, babes.”

Damian was so caught up in their conversation he missed as the indigo string tied to his finger moved at a rate much, much faster than earlier that day.

“Mhmm, small talk about something we are both familiar with?”

“I don’t know, you band nerds seem to like to talk about band, despite making sure it is known that it is hell on earth,” Remy laughed, “Why don’t you, I don’t know, tell one of those ‘this one time at band camp-’ stories, babes?”

“Uh huh, and which one haven’t you heard?” Damian did in fact have a lot of stories, as every band kid tended to, but he was almost certain Remy had heard every one three times. It was obviously his best friend was just trying to cheer him up, and honestly? Damian really appreciated it.

“I don’t know, what about the one time you passed out on field and went to the hospital for a broken rib after being stepped on?” Remy’s grin was shit-eating, and Damian felt his face turn a deep crimson.

“We agreed not to talk about that,” he hissed, attempting to hide his face behind his coffee as he took a sip.

Remy shook his head as he laughed, before standing up.

“I’m heading to the restroom babes, try not to miss me too much.”

Damian sighed and sat back in his chair as Remy left, closing his eyes and smiling to himself. He was enjoying himself, this was nice. Remy was an awesome friend and really helped Damian to forget all about his stupid soulmates.

If all went Damian’s way, he wouldn’t have to deal with soulmates for the rest of the day.

Of course, knowing how fate liked to fuck him over, that isn’t what happened.

Logan had had an exhausting day, and he was ready to get it over with. He wanted nothing more than to go home to his soulmates and curl up against them, but he knew he couldn’t. He had been sentenced to sleeping in a cold hotel bed, alone.

The day had started well, with breakfast with his beloveds and a few kisses to his cheek, and a few kisses he returned. He had left with a small smile on his face.

But his good mood had slowly disappeared as the day wore on, as no sign of his other soulmate was to be found. The string slowly started to move more and more as he was sure he was getting closer, but the direction it was in was so vague, he could only hope he was going the right way as he drove.

Honestly, he didn’t know why some machine to find them hadn’t been invented yet. Surely there was some way to get some magnetic something or other to pick up on soulstrings, and then lead you there with a convenient little GPS voice.

But nope, the stupid strings were too stubborn to be beat. Everyone had just accepted them as immovable magic and was done with it.

Everyone including Logan, but he still felt like he was allowed to complain about that fact.

It was a little past six in the evening at this point, and the sky was beginning to darken considerably. Logan could feel his body getting heavier, but wasn’t quite tired enough to stop yet.

He didn’t think his perception skills were too bad, surely he had a few more hours left in him.

That was probably a bad judgement call, as they were apparently bad enough to not notice how fast the string on his finger moved as he turned the corner into coffee shop parking lot.

He locked his car as he stepped away from it, and entered the building. He took a right to the restroom, wanting to wash his hands before doing anything else, not enjoying the feeling of sweaty driving palms.

He heard the door behind him open, and looked up to see a man wearing sunglasses (indoors?) walk in.

“‘Sup Babes,” the man said, and Logan lifted an eyebrow in confusion.

“Babes? I’m sorry, do I know you?”

The man laughed, “Nope, you just look like someone who would be fun to piss off by calling them babes. For real though, why are you wearing a necktie in a coffee shop?”

“Plenty of people wear neckties in a coffee shop,” Logan answered, fixing his tie with an affronted look. The other man just laughed, running a hand through his hair.

“The name’s Remy,” The man said, offering his hand to shake. Logan took it, if with a little hesitance and confusion.

“Logan.” Logan responded. Remy nodded, going to turn around and leave, probably deterred from using the restroom in what would now be an awkward situation. He stopped suddenly, eyes going wide from behind his sunglasses.

“You have four soulmates?” He said, looking at the slight shadow cast on the tiled floor.

“Yes,” Logan answered, easily. Remy was not the first one to ask that today. There was the woman at the gas station, and the man walking his dog outside of the Ihop. It was a little disorienting hearing four instead of three, but whatever.

“You here with someone? One of your strings seems to be pointing in a weird direction,” Remy commented, nodding down at the shadow heading straight out the bathroom door. Logan looked down hurriedly, just now noticing the yellow string that was pulled tight.

“I- no I’m not. I’ve actually been looking for our fourth soulmate all day,” Logan didn’t take his eyes off the string, “In fact, it only appeared recently. Me and my other soulmates decided it best to find them as soon as possible.

After a few more minutes of staring wide eyed at his yellow string, he looked up at Remy. He, once again, looked confused at the wide smile that had spread across Remy’s face. The sunglasses clad man grabbed Logan by the hand and tugged him towards the door.

“Come on, there’s someone you need to meet.”

Logan allowed himself to be pulled back into the main part of the coffee shop and led in the direction of a booth in the back. He opened his mouth to protest, but stopped when he caught sight of the man seated at the table.

“Damian, babes, you will not fucking believe who I just ran into,” Remy exclaimed. The man, Damian, turned around to face them.

The two men locked eyes, and Logan felt his heart hammering in his chest, that familiar yet foreign feeling of something clicking into place in his chest was present for the fourth time in his life, and he was almost certain he had never been happier.

Logan was at a loss for words for one of the few times in his life.

“Uhm, hello?”

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caltropspress · 4 years ago

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FEEDBACK LOOP #6: Cargo Cults’ “Rammellzee”

Since these symbols and all symbols are drawn, infinity’s separation from all symbols must be shown through drawing. The only proof of such a separation of the infinity would be the understanding by the majority of the planetary peers. There is no other way.

—from IONIC TREATISE GOTHIC FUTURISM ASSASSIN KNOWLEDGES OF THE REMANIPULATED SQUARE POINT’S ONE TO 720° TO 1440° THE RAMM-ΣLL-ZΣΣ (1979, 2003)

The rabbit-hole went straight on like a tunnel for some way, and then dipped suddenly down, so suddenly that Alice had not a moment to think about stopping herself before she found herself falling down a very deep well.

—from Lewis Carroll’s Alice in Wonderland

Riding among an exhausted busful of Negroes going on to graveyard shifts all over the city, she saw scratched on the back of a seat, shining for her in the brilliant smoky interior, the post horn with the legend DEATH. But unlike WASTE, somebody had troubled to write in, in pencil: DON’T EVER ANTAGONIZE THE HORN.

—from Thomas Pynchon’s The Crying of Lot 49

1. I walk down the street and people look at me and say, “Who the hell are you?”

Cargo Cults (Alaska and Zilla Rocca) begin their track “Rammellzee” with the voice of the some-16 billion-years-old being himself. The song is an ode, an invocation. The organ sample provides a bizarre ride: a carousel of colors. We immediately plummet—into a well, a subway tunnel, a cosmos of linguistics. Not a nonchalant That’s deep, but a depth of knowledge where “cipher” means code, means Supreme Mathematics, means gathering with your rapfolk outside the Nuyorican Poets Cafe or in Washington Square Park: a deep connection. Mimicking Rammellzee, Alaska presents the listener with “swirling pages / forming mazes of [his] formulations” and subsequently “break[s] them down into a form that’s shapeless.”

2. Hip-hop is ageist….In blues, you ain’t official until you fifty. (Ka, Red Bull Music Academy interview with Jeff Mao, 2016)

The phrase …of a certain age has, historically, been used euphemistically to describe someone (typically a woman) who has existed for a “shameful” tally of years. Society is still undoing the stigma, but rappers have made strides.

In Adult Rappers, a 2015 documentary directed by Paul Iannacchino (Hangar 18’s DJ paWL), Alaska is [accidentally?] presented twice in the closing credits—like a double, a separate persona—which calls to mind the multiple personalities of Rammellzee: Crux the Monk, Chaser the Eraser, Gash/Olear, et cetera. Age allows for maturation, for building, for bettering. In Rammellzee’s case—and I’d argue Alaska’s—it allows for complexity to emerge organically through wisdom. It allows for reinvention, for many versions of one’s self. Age and development is how an aerosol can with a fat cap can graduate to customized deodorant roll-ons and shoe polish canisters.

It begins with jerry-rigging a nozzle and ends in diagramming a “harpoonic whip launcher/pulsating extendor” to illustrate the deconstruction of letter-formations in the English alphabet. The spirit of experience pervades the Nihilist Millennial album. As anyone who has ever sat on the couch knows, communication can also improve with age.

Artists and rappers like Rammellzee and Alaska rely on wild-styles, a self-made world that warps quantum physics and disregards notions of dimensionality. It’s dream-vision. It’s liberation. It simultaneously celebrates and critiques communication: like the image of a muted horn.

“Communication is the key,” cried Nefastis. “The Demon passes his data on to the sensitive, and the sensitive must reply in kind. There are untold billions of molecules in that box. The Demon collects data on each and every one. At some deep psychic level he must get through…”

“Help,” said Oedipa, “you’re not reaching me.”

“Entropy is a figure of speech, then,” sighed Nefastis, “a metaphor. It connects the world of thermodynamics to the world of information flow. The Machine uses both. The Demon makes the metaphor not only verbally graceful, but also objectively true.”

[…]

Nefastis smiled; impenetrable, calm, a believer.

The wordplay seems just that: play—that is, until you find the thread. Alaska cobbles together words like rubbish, W.A.S.T.E. Words appear daisy-chained together—flowery, ornate, and strung together by their stems: “fatalism, Fela Kuti, razor thin” / “smash the superstitions with acid tabs and some Sufi visions” / “deep dive Sonny Liston” / “Walt Whitman.”

The track reads like a codex. Something crafted in a scriptorium. His words are warfare—double-tracked/double-barreled—and he slips into braggadocio to prove it. It’s an authoritative posture of experience. Having started atomically small—from Breaking Atoms bedroom listening, to Atoms Family—Alaska’s flow presents nuclear now: maximum damage.

There’s a refinement to what this duo is doing: “Me and Zilla well-established with a lavish vision. / Both hands crusty with Ikonklastic Panzerism.” The boasts rely on royal diction: Camelot, palace doors, Prince Paul. Each man a king, a God, and each one should teach one. Mentor texts for the masses.

Rammellzee is an equation, And simply stated it’s the way of life I’m chasing. That’s why I praise the future-Gothic future-prophet. Gotta rock it, don’t stop it, Gotta rock it, don’t stop.

You find diversions on the song, exits into familiar chambers. GZA quotations (“I was the thrilla in the Ali-Frazier Manila”) and allusions to Main Source. Large Professor rapped “Dead is my antonym,” and if that’s to be proven true, money needs to be removed from the equation. The refrain of “Gotta rock it” not only calls to mind “Beat Bop,” Herbie Hancock, and Grand Mixer DS.T (or his later incarnation, DXT), but rockets—Afrofuturist angles, future shocks (Bill Laswell [Material], friend to Rammellzee, had a hand in all this). It’s not so much a “future-prophet” as a “future profit.” “Freedom in the process” means creativity without expectation, without the constraints of market value.

Alaska gives it to us straight: “I don’t care if you don’t like it, and I don’t care if you don’t buy it / ’Cause I find freedom in the process.” Despite becoming increasingly complex in his visual approach—like a heap of garbage that loses the definition of its component parts over the ages—Rammellzee understood time equals clarity of vision. A wasted world becomes a meaningful one. Of course, we got to pay rent, so money connects, but ownership of one’s art is about empowerment. “Selling out” is the opposite—an evisceration of one’s self and spirit. “We lost control from the second we sold the art,” Alaska raps. “We sold our future….We should be seeking enlightenment.”

The moment arrives, epiphanically: “I find freedom in the process so I’m grateful, / And that’s my main source: it’s my friendly game of baseball.” For Alaska and Zilla Rocca, it’s not a job—it’s a passion, a pastime.

5. Nascent imagination deep inside a battle station.

Post-9/11 meant luxury apartments displaced Rammellzee’s Battle Station loft, his living museum. But the art has been excavated and exists posthumously. His Gothic Futurism and Ikonoklast Panzerism seem at home archived on the internet—a network that appears more like a chaos cloud. Rammellzee deconstructed and transcended language—junk monk scripts and calligraphic cut-ups of consumerism. His art is the empowerment a recycling arrow-triangle could only hope to be. Recycle is also rebirth. Rammellzee’s career path is circuitous, deep-tunneled (subway-esque), eternal.

Similarly, Alaska’s multisyllabic patterns are an endless barrage, like weaponized letters tilted sideways, like bottle rockets angled into a bottle’s neck: “Armament / Now my names are built like a BattleBot / Locked inside an ad hoc Camelot, I rather not / Tangle with a rabid lot, hop inside a rabbit hole.”

Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the bank, and of having nothing to do: once or twice she had peeped into the book her sister was reading, but it had no pictures or conversations in it, “and what is the use of a book,” thought Alice “without pictures or conversations?”

Boredom can make trouble, but boredom can also breed creativity. Alaska rather not spar with trolls under ISP bridges—though he’s equipped to. Instead, he channels his energies into material.

6. Our culture is done. We lived it.

Near the end, Alaska paraphrases Rammellzee: “I’m not the first or the last to don the mask. / I see it as a title, I’m monastic with these raps.”

Living a life of art—making it regardless of accolade or monetary payment—is the highest form of creativity. Live the art and die by it, like Stan Brakhage, poisoning himself at a slow pace as he applied toxic dyes to celluloid film. Like Rammellzee executing graffiti pieces maskless, huffing the carcinogenic fumes.

MF DOOM (née Zev Love X)—a Rammellzee descendant—taught us how to revel in anonymity, the importance of not spotlighting yourself, but instead seeking out the shade, secret passageways, and the trapdoor in the stage floor. Not all of us heed the advice, but some do, and they feel the throb of real success, not the sort that shows up in bank statements and 401(k) plans.

Images:

“Beat Bop” test pressing, Rammellzee and K-Rob, art by Jean-Michel Basquiat, 1983 (detail) | Rammellzee black-and-white portrait photograph (unknown) | Ikonoklast Panzerism diagram from IONIC TREATISE GOTHIC FUTURISM ASSASSIN KNOWLEDGES OF THE REMANIPULATED SQUARE POINT’S ONE TO 720° TO 1440° THE RAMM-ΣLL-ZΣΣ (1979, 2003) | Page 34 (muted post horn) in Thomas Pynchon’s The Crying of Lot 49, Bantam Books edition (1966) | “A scribe at work,” from an illuminated manuscript from the Estoire del Saint Graal, France (Royal MS 14 E III c. 1315-1325 AD) | Herbie Hancock, Future Shock cassette cover (1983) | Grand Mixer D.ST comic book image (unknown) | Stan Brahage at chalkboard (unknown) | Stan Brakhage, Mothlight celluloid (1963) | “Beat Bop” test pressing, Rammellzee and K-Rob, art by Jean-Michel Basquiat, 1983 (detail)

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shattered-catalyst · 4 years ago

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Okay this is long. And nothing to do with us or even Tumblr. So feel free to ignore. But I needed to send you this because you would understand how OH MY GOD ARE YOU SERIOUS that it is. ok so I write Haven at a board. She used to volunteer at a mutant support/youth center, contribute funding and resources, etc. Due to people who played the owners leaving, it’s hers now and like ok her being human makes it a little iffy but not as iffy as…what I’m about to describe they offer a lot of pro bono support services. Guess who walks into the AA meeting at this FREE center for MUTANTS and even when TOLD it’s for mutants decides he NEEDS to get his issues off his chest HERE and gives this whole rambling post talking all about himself and why he drinks and it’s honestly the most cringy self-indulgent thing and I’m tagged in it despite not agreeing to a thread TONY STARK “You all know what it is like to have more power than normal. To suddenly feel the difference.” STOP RIGHT THERE TONY GET OUT OF HER CENTER YOU CAN AFFORD LITERALLY ANY PRIVATE COUSELOR “That was the thought that made me fall off the wagon,“ he admitted. "Anniversary of Yinsen’s death. Knowing that a good man fell for my sorry entitled self to live. Where about the only thing I’d offered the world was an armor for someone to risk their life in to save others. Using money to try to assuage my guilt.” “Because no matter how much money I give away, no matter how many charities I set up or debts I pay off, there is one fact that doesn’t go away. My family money comes from blood. That of people who have died. People that will be crippled and killed because I had to be clever and make a more vicious landmine. Where no matter what I use my money for, at the end of the day it is blood money.” Letting out a shuddering breath as he ran his fingers through his hair roughly, he whispered “At least if talking with you, there is a concept of the sort of power I am talking about. Where you have seen and experienced things. About how sometimes a man reaches for the drink not so much to blind himself from what he had seen or to feel good. No. Sometimes I reach for it for the simplest of reasons.” “Because the man in the mirror can’t stand to look at me. And it is the oldest poison I know to try to kill him with,” Stark admitted. “Then there are the other days,” he said slowly. “Where I know I can’t ever reach for that bottle again. Because even if my money is tainted, I have to be the one to try to use it right. To donate it and try to do good with it. As there are people working for me depending on it. That there are so few that will actually try to make this world better. Who would only use it to try to keep bleeding the world dry.” please go AWAY “So I need to be at a meeting. To keep myself nice and centered. And to remember that even if my tech helped spit in the faces of some would be gods, at the end of the day…. I’m human. And that I am weak. And that I can’t even start to think that I am strong enough to keep going.” Looking around the room, he hung his head as he admitted “Sorry for dropping that on everyone. But it does help.” OH WELL AS LONG AS IT HELPED *YOU* literally like I think the OP thinks Haven is going to be like you poor brave man and just…the incredible insensitivity on display here would actually be kinda fantastic IF THE MUN WERE HALFWAY AWARE I’m either going to ignore because THIS WAS NOT DISCUSSED or huck one of my MUCH LESS NICE characters at him I’m sorry to dump this MASS on you but it is just so YIKES in a specific way I thought you would appreciate in its awfulness

I gotta say I ran a group where this pretty much happened and as facilitator Haven’s gotta break up that monologue after the second paragraph and guide it. Basically if someone comes in and dumps all that shit they’re trying to dominate a group and are more suited for individual counseling in addition to group therapy.

Its not unusual for rich people to crash into places they could literally afford to buy tbh.

Tony crashing a Mutant’s only center doesn’t surprise me at all.

TLDR: the writer hasnt been to a fucking meeting before or any type of support group because this formatting doesnt happen.part of our gd jobs is controlling monologues like that and its like herding fucking cats and its so tiring i cannot explain how exhausting it is.

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annie-banks · 5 years ago

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Adore You - Harry Styles (2019) // you’re wonder, under summer sky // All About That Bass – Meghan Trainor (2014) // every inch of you is perfect from the bottom to the top // Alone Again – Betty Who (2014) // when it rains it pours and you drown me out // Anything Could Happen – Ellie Goulding (2012) // letting darkness grow, as if we need it's palette and we need it's color // Bad Girls - M.I.A. (2012) // leaving boys behind ‘cause it’s illegal just to kill // Bitch Better Have My Money - Rihanna (2015) // your wife in the backseat of my brand new foreign car // Blank Space – Taylor Swift (2014) // darling I'm a nightmare dressed like a daydream // Bloodbuzz Ohio – The National (2010) // I was carried to Ohio in a swarm of bees // Bo$$ – Fifth Harmony (2014) // boss. 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Eric Nally, Melle Mel, Grandmaster Caz, Kool Moe Dee (2016) // neighbors yelling at me like, you need to slow down going thirty-eight, Dan, chill the fuck out, mow your damn lawn and sit the hell down // End of the Day - One Direction (2015)// I told her that I loved her, just not sure if she heard. the roof was pretty windy and she didn't say a word, party died downstairs, had nothing left to do just me, her and the moon // Fireproof – One Direction (2015) // riding on the wind and I won't give up // ***Flawless – Beyonce ft. Nicki Minaj (2013) // mayday, mayday, earth to bitches // Follow Your Arrow - Kacey Musgraves (2013) // if you save yourself for marriage, you're a bore. if you don't save yourself for marriage, you're a whore-able person // Formation - Beyonce (2016) // always stay gracious, best revenge is your paper // Forrest Gump – Frank Ocean (2012) // my fingertips and my lips, they burn from the cigarettes // Freaks and Geeks – Childish Gambino (2011) // I have worked all winter, I will not fail summer, in the back of the bush, like Gavin Rossdale's drummer // Gay Pirates - Cosmo Jarvis (2011) // and I hope they didn't tie up your hands as tight as mine. I'll see you on the bed of this blue ocean, babe, sometime // Get Lucky – Daft Punk ft. Pharrell Williams (2013) // the present has no ribbon, your gift keeps on giving // Glory - Bastille (2016) // and then you put your hand in mine and pulled me back from things divine, stop looking up for heaven, waiting to be buried // Good Grief - Bastille (2016) // caught off guard by your favourite song, I'll be dancing at a funeral, dancing at a funeral // Green Light - Lorde (2017) // I whisper things, the city sings them back to you // Grown - Little Mix (2015) // no regrets, it's a lesson learned 'cause what you think ain't my concern // Hayloft - Nickel Creek (2014) // young lovers with their legs tied up in knots // Holocene – Bon Iver (2011) // and at once I knew I was not magnificent // I Believe - Original Broadway Cast (2011) // and I believe that the Garden of Eden was in Jackson County, Missouri // I Like It - Cardi B, Bad Bunny, and J Balvin (2018) // I like those Balenciagas, the ones that look like socks // I Love It – Icona Pop ft. 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(2012) // some nights I rule the world with bar lights and pretty girls, but most nights I stay straight and think about my mom // Stitches - Shawn Mendes (2015) // needle and the thread gotta get you out of my head // Sunflower, Vol. 6 - Harry Styles (2019) // *gasp* your flowers just died, plant new seeds in the melody // Super Bass - Nicki Minaj (2010) // and he ill, he real, he might gotta deal. he pop bottles and he got the right kind of build. he cold, he dope, he might sell coke. he always in the air, but he never fly coach // Take Me to Church - Hozier (2013) // I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies. I'll tell you my sins, and you can sharpen your knife // Thank u, Next - Ariana Grande (2018) // she taught me love, she taught me patience, how she handles pain // The Pachanelly Canon - Gentleman’s Rule (2012) // I'm getting pages out of New Jersey, from Courtney B telling me about a party up in NYC. can I make it? damn right I be on the next flight. payin cash. first class. sittin' next to Vanna White // The Wire - Haim (2013) // I just know, I know, I know, I know that you're gonna be okay anyway // Theme From “Cheers” - Titus Andronicus (2010)// I'm sick and tired of everyone in this town being so goddamn uptight, but don't you worry, I'll do all the talking when they turn on the flashing lights // Thieves – She & Him (2010) // I'm not a prophet, old love is in me. new love just seeps right in and makes me guilty // This is America - Childish Gambino (2018) // tell somebody, you go tell somebody. grandma told me, get your money, black man // Trouble - Neon Jungle (2013) // lights up let's have a toke, pour more whiskey in my coke .. Truth Hurts - Lizzo (2017) // you coulda had a bad bitch, non-committal // Uma Thurman - Fall Out Boy (2015) // and I slept in last night's clothes and tomorrow’s dreams, but they are not quite what they seem // Wetsuit – The Vaccines (2011) // with a cool, cool breeze and dirty knees, I rest on childhood memories // What a Feeling - One Direction (2015) // when the air ran out and we both started running wild, the sky fell down // Wilson - Fall Out Boy (2018) // I'll stop wearing black when they make a darker color // Wolves - One Direction (2015) // I feel the waves getting started, it's a rush inside I can't control // You Need Me, I Don’t Need You - Ed Sheeran (2011) // melody music maker, reading all the papers, they say I'm up and coming like I'm fucking in an elevator // You’re in Love With a Psycho - Kasabian (2017) // I'm like the taste of macaroni on a seafood stick

Songs that would have made the list were they on Spotify: We Can’t Stop - Bastille // I Love Clothes (Deadbeat Summer) - Childish Gambino // G.O.O.D. Friday - Kanye West ft. Common, Pusha T, Kid Cudi, Big Sean & Charlie Wilson // Driving in Cars with Boys - Lana Del Rey // Blurred Lines - Vampire Weekend // a number of mashups (Office Musik, What Makes You Da One, Live While We Die Young, Brush Your Bittersweet Shoulders Off, We Are Complicated)

#best songs of the decade #music

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mrs-hollandstan · 6 years ago

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Behind His Back || Mobster!Harrison Osterfield {2}

•Caught Red Handed•

Pairing: Mobster Tom Holland Sister!Reader x Mobster!Harrison Osterfield

Warnings: sexual content throughout, language, talk of cuts & scrapes + blood, hardass Tommo, crying, more talk of minor character death

Word Count: 4,810

Author's Note: Here’s part dossssss. This is so exciting! So this part is sort of a spiced, hybrid version with new writing and the very first blurb request so if you see some of the older content, I just decided to keep pieces the same. :) Lemme know what you think and ask to be added to the taglist if you’d like!

Blurbs the series is based off of: x x x x x x x

⟵Previous || Series Masterlist || Next⟶

You wondered how you'd gone so long without Harrison. Obviously he was in your life but the details of him, the deep seeded love he showed and the way he attended to everything you could ever want or need had you falling head over heels for him every new day. Obviously you hadn't been on any official dates, no assigned nights to go to dinner or a movie, but he wanted to show you as much attention as the snippets of fun would allow. The kisses, touches of each others hands, feeding each other if on the small chance, there's something to feed to one another if Tom isn't present. Which of course was rare. That night, after you attended Tom's business deal with Martinez was one of the best of your life. A part of you wished you'd saved yourself for Harrison, and a part of you praised the gods for being somewhat experienced and able to take him on with the invigored thrusts he dished out. The way his face was held in your neck to stifle the sexiest moans and the way his skin felt against yours was unprecedented. He was sweaty in the middle of January, when a chill was running through the air and you swore that you were going to implode as your knuckles turned white in his beautiful sandy colored hair. He mumbled praise and whispered his love against you, his hands holding yours above your head and you kept catching glimpses of that little kid he used to be. That eight year old boy that used to run around your front yard with Tom and take your Barbies and giggle as you chased him around to get them back. The tears were in your eyes again when you pulled him down against you, clutching his shoulders in tense hands while he brought you to climax, following close behind with a muffled grunt. Of course you told him you loved him again. You'd thought those words wouldn't make their appearance for a few more months assuming Tom didn't find out about you two. He'd collapsed against you, skin sticking to yours, chests pressed together as he tried to calm before retreating back to his own room for the night. You muttered it into his damp hair and he hummed before returning it, snuggling you impossibly closer as if he could stay. And when he rose, he knew it'd break you both. He tossed his condom and dressed in the dark, leaning in with his fingers under your chin to kiss you. He repeated those three words before he left you alone. And that was the first night you cried over him. The first night you despised your brother for enforcing something so restricting. He had his fair share of women in and out of your house but you couldn't have anyone. He was a hypocrite and you hated it. They met with Martinez in one of his bars a few nights after the first meeting. Tom didn't tell you you had to come, but asked and you declined which he respected. They were gone a few hours before both Tom and Harrison entered your bedroom, a slash across the bridge of Harrison's nose and a little knick across his cheek, "Patch him up?" Tom dryly joked, gesturing out to the shy man behind him. You did, eyes finding Harrison’s every so often. You fought back the urge to kiss him each time you lock eyes or he winces as alcohol seeps into his cuts. But he's bandaged and heading out after Tom in a few minutes, you having not listened to a Goddamn word Tom said about the deal that went sour as you stared into those soft ocean colored eyes that were swimming in the same desperation. He wants to take hold of your hips and reassure you he's okay while you scold him but Tom is leaned against the sink watching you both. He's too blind to read the expressions you both have but you and Harrison both know the emotions are there. And when they both leave, Harrison glances back at you, eyes wandering your body. That night, he returned for a second time, dragging you into his lap and slowly letting you rock against him while you press gentle kisses to his face and mutter little things to him. And since then, about a week later, he’s back a third time, the both of you leaving a substantial amount of little red marks across the others skin, raised marks that you'll have to figure out how to hide before he leaves the next morning. His lips turn up every time you mumble you love him and he responds with the same statement. Once you've both finished, you lay on your stomach in post-coital bliss, sheet messily draped about your waist as you wait for Harrison to clean himself up. When he returns, he traces a line up over your spine, kissing your heated skin. He loves the sight of you and he could go at you again and again if you'd let him, but he can see how tired you are. He sighs as he lays next to you, pulling the sheet to cover himself, "I wanna stay." He whispers. Your eyes lock and you desperately want to tell him no. If Tom catches you, it'll be devastating. But now, almost three months deep in your relationship, you want him to stay. You want him to cuddle you against him and feel his body against yours. And in the morning, if you're found out, you have to take the risk. The big question that floats above you is if you'll stand beside the last of your family, the man that gave you everything after your parents' death, or leave with the man of your dreams assuming Tom doesn't kill him. All you can do is nod as he wraps his arm around your torso, throwing an arm under his head and leaning in to press a chaste kiss to your lips. When you lay your head over his chest, he feels like home. He feels like where you should be. He feels like the protection you crave. Harrison is the man of your dreams and you want nothing more than to show the world you belong to each other. His skin is warm, his heartbeat steady and calming. Every time he breathes, it feels like you're being lulled to sleep by waves at sea. His fingers rub over your skin and his lips are pressed in your hair as you slowly drift off. You feel at peace and Harrison feels the same. His heart flutters looking down at you and he can't believe how in love he is with you. Completely and utterly sweet on you. By the time you're asleep, Harrison's fingers have made your hair soft and there are no knots. He's quick to follow, falling asleep in perfect peace now that he has you beside him, your leg weighing his down and your skin soft and warm against his. The sunshine pouring through the window and onto the bare skin of your shoulders, bathing you in warmth wakes you the next morning. You stretch, opening your eyes to Harrison's peaceful, sleeping face, cut across his nose now almost completely scabbed over. You smile, nuzzling down closer to him, his naked body radiating warmth into your own. Leaning in, you gently kiss his lips, listening to him sleepily groan, his lips reacting instantly to you. A giggle slips from your lips when he wraps his arm around your shoulders, holding your neck to keep you kissing him, "Good morning sunshine." You rasp out. He hums, pressing his arm down to squeeze you, "Good morning my beautiful, beautiful girl." He responds, voice gravelly and baritone. You love hearing it for the first time. "You wanna know what has me excited this fine morning Mr. Osterfield?" He nods, opening an eye slowly. You lean in to kiss his cheek, "I have my love in bed for the first time. Its absolutely amazing. It makes me so excited." He chuckles, "Yeah? Me too. You're absolutely amazing in more ways than one. You're great in bed, a phenomenal cuddler... and an exceptional girlfriend." The way he says it makes your heart pound. It makes you feel scared and excited all at once as you wrap your arms around his neck and he rolls you on your back to perch over you. The cold metal necklace that holds the gang's medallion lays between your breasts, "I just... I wish we could do more. I'm in love with you. We're soulmates and I want to be with you always and this off limits thing. Tom just-" "Babe... I love you more than life itself. And if Tom found out about this... he'd gut me but... I think if it came down to it... we could run away together. Just you and me. We could get married and have a baby-" "You're really pushin for this." You giggle as he shrugs, "I think about us getting caught a lot. I've calculated risk and all that." He jokes with a wide, goofy smile. You giggle again, threading your fingers through the back of his hair as he gently leans in to kiss your neck, "Gotta get these marks figured out. I can't walk out if I look as bad as you do. Looks like you've got chicken pox. And I gotta figure out how to get out of here discreetly. Can’t turn any heads or raise any questions." He mumbles into your skin. When he leans back to look into your eyes, you hum, skin tingling, looking all over the face you love so much. "We'll figure it out." He nods, leaning in to peck your lips once, twice, three times before he descends, lips pressed firmly against yours in a head swirling kiss, the both of you pressed chest to chest. He hums, the sudden makeout session turning steamy rather quick. Harrison's blood pumps in his veins, headed straight down to his throbbing length which twitches to life, begging to have itself touched. You arch your leg, inviting Harrison to nuzzle himself between your legs. He squirms down between your now fully spread thighs, reaching between you to start guiding his cock down towards the warmth between them. He's pressing the tip into you, a caught gasp leaving your lips and you know it's a bad idea he's abandoning protection, but your brain isn’t willing to let you choke the words up and ruin the moment. Just then, the door clicks open and Tom pushes through, "Hey sis are you-" Harrison slips out of you, howling as you scream and go to cover yourself. He tumbles to the floor with a thud as Tom reels in the doorway, blinking to prove what he's seeing isn't some sick, crazy dream. Harrison springs up from the floor, both hands trying to contain his throbbing length that still twitches at the loss of contact. "What the fuck?" Tom quizzes, voice low. His eyes are deadly and angry and it scares both you and Harrison. He stands before you, pissed beyond belief in a black and white pinstripe, three piece suit. His hand still rests on the doorknob, eyes locked on his right hand man he thought he could trust. His best friend. The brother he wishes he had. Standing naked in his little sister's room, little love bites littering his tan skin. He clenches his jaw, eyes averted down to the floor now, "How long?" Harrison's heart pounds in his throat, yours just as spasmodic. You look between the both of them, lump rising in your throat as you and Harrison lock eyes. He's terrified and as much as he's thought about getting caught with you, he always panics before the plan is fully thought out and he hasn't taken into account how devastating Tom now finding out will be. He can't take into account how your relationship will crumble. You can't see this going your way. Harrison either leaves or dies. Its Tom's way or no way. "Tommy-" You start, "How long?!" He roars, not looking to you, but wide eyed, up at Haz. The blonde's breathing has grown erratic as he glances down to find his discarded boxers on the floor, "Almost three months. Tom I-" "You're done. You're outta here." "Tom, listen to me!" "You're fucking my sister! My baby sister! The one I told you not to touch! The one that was off limits Osterfield! You knew that when we started this and you still went against me!" Tom billows, refusing to listen. By now he's gathered an audience in the hall, and you're in tears as Harrison stumbles back into his slacks, at war with if he should comfort you or confront Tom, "I love her Tom." "You don't get to love her. You're done. I fucking told you." "I know but-" "No... there's no buts. You're done. You're outta here." Tom reiterates for a third time, his voice calmed but his arms crossed in defense, body tense as his rage diminishes just the slightest now that Harrison's mouth is shut as he struggles to find words. Choked sobs fall from your lips as Harrison reels over Tom not budging, as if it was a surprise. You reach down to find his button up and pull it on. Only then does Tom's tunnel vision let up. His eyes cut to you, arms relaxing just the slightest, features softening at the look on your face, the tears in your eyes. The same one you had when you found out your parents had died; absolute heartbreak, "What're you doing?" He speaks quietly. Your chest heaves, "I h-have to go with him. I can't- I can't lose him." You sob, sliding your underwear up your legs. Tom’s mouth opens as Harrison steps in front of you as you try to get to your closet and pack a bag, "Baby you can't do this." "I can't lose you Harrison." You choke out. He clicks his tongue, tears in his own eyes as he drags you into him, holding your face in his neck as you cry. His body feels limp. He has to leave you and he never imagined it'd be this hard. The lump in his throat makes it tight, Tom long since forgotten as he comforts you, the worst pain he’s ever felt in every fiber of his body. You hold him tight to you. You don't want to let him go. The second you do, he's gone forever. The love of your life has to leave and you're left alone and heartbroken. Leaving with him would be best. That way you'd avoid Tom and just be able to focus on your relationship with Harrison. Harrison strokes your hair, pulling back, "I'll let you keep the shirt okay?" You bunch his slacks in your hands, unable to let him go. "No-" "Love I have to-" "No... Harrison." He nods, holding your face, "Its for your own good angel." He reasons, voice soft, and as much as it would calm you if the situation was different, it doesn't. Turning to Tom as Harrison tries to move out of your grip you storm forward, shoving at his shoulders, "You fucking hypocrite!" You pound at his chest, Harrison quick to bind an arm around your waist. You lash against Tom as Harrison drags you back against him, Tom's eyes wide, "Hypocrite?" "You have women in here every week! A new woman and the one time I'm happy you're taking it away!" You're upset in a new way, rage taking over the anguish. Tom stares back at you. He has nothing to say, he's so shocked. Harrison tugs you away, sitting at the end of your bed with you in his lap. Your eyes are as dark as Tom's and he can see the absolute anger in them. He knows you're pissed and now he's battling himself. But he watches Harrison hold your face, making you look at him. Your eyes soften just the smallest and Tom wants to hate Harrison. He wants to hate your relationship and the fact you went behind his back to see Harrison when you had all those years before it got to this point. But he can't bring himself to. He can't bring himself to hate Harrison or you, because he sees how calm Harrison can make you. He sees how grounded you become in a matter of seconds sitting in Harrison's lap, staring in his eyes and listening to his voice. And holding himself against the wall you shoved him against, Tom listens to Harrison tell you you'll figure it out. He'll handle it. He watches Harrison lean in and kiss you and his mind is all over the place wondering how his little sister and his best friend made this happen after sixteen years of being friends. It’s mind blowing to Tom to think that how in love the two of you seem to be, you were able to keep it secret for so long, hidden from Tom and everyone around you, making them completely oblivious. Setting you on the edge of your bed, Harrison stands, taking a step towards Tom. They lock eyes and Harrison looks down, rubbing his clammy palms on his slacks, "I'm not going to tell you what I did was right. It wasn't. I'm your right hand man... your best friend and I have been for ages. I should have listened to you and stayed away from her but... you've guessed it for years. I've liked her since puberty and you know that. She was my first crush. I love her Tom. I'm in love with her. She's everything to me. Please... please... I know I fucked up. I know... but please don't take me away from her. Not after everything she's been through." Harrison pleads to Tom calmly, almost devastatingly, tears in his eyes. The one thing Tom hates is how easy it is to get under his skin when it comes to you. He doesn't want you hurt. Not again. Not like when your parents died. Avoiding looking at the two of you, Harrison adds on, "I don't fuck her Tom. I've been seeing her for three months. I just made love to her for the first time last week after our first business deal. And once more after the second. Getting hurt scared the shit out of me. If something serious had happened and you had to tell her... I don't think she could have taken that sort of devastation. Not again. She's my everything. Do whatever you want to me, torture me for all I care, break my hand, cut it off, I don't care, but don't hurt her. Please..." Looking down at the pendant hanging around Harrison's neck and the tattoo across his ribs, Tom's jaw clenches again. He takes one more look at you before drawing the knife from his holster and holding it to Harrison's throat. He presses as you watch, drawing blood. It makes Harrison wince but he takes it, "I should fucking kill you. If you ever, EVER go against me again, I won't hesitate. You're lucky she's all I have Osterfield or I'd string you up." Harrison stares at him. He swallows and nods, "I understand. I'm sorry." Tom presses again, piercing Harrison's skin further, rage flashing through his eyes once more before he draws back. He points his knife at you, "This isn't over. Get dressed, we're gonna talk in my office in ten." He doesn't wait for anything, just turns and leaves the room bellowing at the group of men that have collected back to their posts. Only, then do they scram, Harrison running his hand through his hair as he closes the door, listening to Tom yell commands. He turns, taking a deep breath and resting his hands on his hips, "I shouldn't have stayed. This is my fault." Standing, you walk towards him, wrapping your arms around his torso. He rests his hands on your arms, kissing the top of your head. You close your eyes, listening to the steady pound of his heart, "Its not your fault. It was mutual." "I knew there was no way I could get out of here without someone seeing. It'd get back to him no matter what. If I just... hadn't stayed-" "Harrison..." taking hold of his face, your eyes dart between his own, "if you're guilty of staying, I'm guilty of letting you. I knew I shouldn't have but... you felt amazing in bed beside me." He smiles down at you, holding your arms. He leans down, lips pressed to yours for a few moments as his nimble fingers make quick work of the buttons on his shirt clinging to your body, "Imma need this back pretty girl." When he exposes you to him, he cocks his head, "I don't know how I'm going to give up this amazing body if I have to." Pushing the cotton from your shoulders, he pulls it on and starts to button it with a sigh, eyes averted from you as you walk to your closet to find clothes. When you emerge, he's rolling his sleeves up, "What should I do? While you talk to him I mean?" Reaching up to fix his collar, it's your turn to sigh, "Go take a shower. Unwind. I'll come find you after." He nods and reaches out to tuck hair behind your ear. Leaning in, he pecks your lips, holding your hips, "Go plead your case. Please get the target off my head." You giggle, brushing the stray hair from his forehead, "I've got you. Stay put okay?" He nods and leans in to peck your lips once more before finding his socks and shoes. You leave him sat at the foot of your bed, trudging down the hall to the large, looming double oak doors and standing at them for just a moment before knocking softly. You open without hearing him allow it, but he knows it's you. He stares up at you when you enter, watching you close the door behind you and tread forward to sit in a leather chair the other side of his desk from him. He sighs, the sound ringing through the otherwise quiet room, "So what... you couldn't have started to date him, or had your fun before I put that restriction on you?" Clasping your hands in your lap, you take a deep breath, "When have you ever heard or restrictions like that working? We've liked each other for years Tom. You can't just sit here and say that I'm forbidden because you're my brother. I'm my own person." He leans back in his chair and crosses his arms, "Do you know why I did that? Do you know why I said you were off limits?" You shake your head, crossing your arms. He nods, "Exactly... I did it because Ray Walker, another mob boss down in Florida had two sisters that were both simultaneously killed by their partners because their brother didn't pay enough attention. I'm being attentive to what you're doing. I'm making sure you're safe. And if I have to go through Harrison to do it, I have to."

“I’m not one of Ray Walker’s sisters. Harrison isn’t some random guy you just hired when you got here to New York, you’ve known him forever… we’ve known him forever.”

“It doesn’t mean shit that I’ve known him that long. All that matters is how willing he is to turn his back on people like us. People that would give him everything. Who says he isn’t taking advantage of you, lowering your guard so he can stab you right in the back, use you against me? Have you thought about that?”

“No, because I’m not obsessive like the airhead in this room. Harrison is someone I can trust just about as much as I can trust you.”

“So you think.” "He's been your best friend since Year One. He barely wanted to come here and do this. Why would he blindside you?" Tom leans in, "It doesn't matter how long I've known the div, he could be doing anything. The only people you and I can trust is me and you." "Well I hate to break it to you big bro, but he is the most loyal, loving, respective man on this planet besides you. He would never do anything to hurt me and no matter what, if you kick him out, if you kill him, I'm done here." He stares at you for a moment as you lean forward, eyes locked in his. If there's one thing you've been taught, it's to never lie to each other. He can see in your eyes that resemble his and your mother’s so much how serious you are about leaving him if he lays a finger on Harrison. Sure, it'll hurt, both leaving him and possibly losing Harrison, but you'll manage, and all of it will be to prove your point. You aren't a little kid anymore needing Tom's protection against every little boy that he knows is gonna be an asshole to you. He is your older brother and he's always promised your parents to protect you, but now he sees how, if he pushes too far, he'll push you away. He averts his eyes and swallows, "If this were any random chick flick, we'd go back and forth for months just to get an hour in but... I hate to say that… you're right. I've known him since we were four. He's... basically as good as it gets as far as protection goes." Reaching up, he pinches his nose, trying to ignore the steady pound of his heart now that things are aligned in your favor. He opens his eyes and looks at you, "This doesn't mean I like the idea but... I'm giving you... the okay to keep seeing him. I just... no unprotected sex. If you end up pregnant I'll have to kill him." "I'm on the pill." "Y/N. Just... literally that's like one of the only things I'm asking of you. Please... no unprotected sex. And just... keep the PDA between the two of you. We don't need everyone around here knowing. I mean, who knows if one of these little fuckers is a traitor. They find out about the two of you and we're all done for." You nod, heart pounding. He's giving you the okay. Harrison and you can keep seeing each other without having to go behind Tom's back. Harrison doesn't have to leave, he's not gonna lose his head, you two are getting your way. Tom runs a hand over his face, "Bring him in here too. I need the marks covered up. It starts here." You nod, trying to stand without jumping for joy. It's always been a pissing match between Tom and Harrison and now, now the two of you are getting your way. Walking towards the door, Tom speaks again,

“Oh, uhm, Y/N?” You turn and nod, telling him he can continue as your hand rests on the doorknob. He swallows and stands, tucking his hands in his pockets,

“He is in love with you. I know… he’s told you that and you’ve already drawn your own conclusion but… The way he looks at you like you’ve known each other… loved each other for hundreds of years, in all these different lifetimes… I’ve never seen him look at anyone like that. I’ve never seen anyone love someone else as much as he seems to love you.” He looks down at the desk before him for a moment before he swallows and looks up at you through squinted eyes. You nod,

“And I love him too. We’ve already determined we’re soulmates. If neither of us can get over each other in sixteen years… there’s something there.” He nods in return, failing to say anything else before you open the door and turn to leave. Walking from his office quickly, you can't help but squeal and squirm in the hallway, pure giddiness coursing through your veins. You can feel every emotion build up as you head for Harrison's room, excited to break the news to your boyfriend. You start practically running after passing a gaggle of your brother's men, each of them eyeing you. Your care feet make contact with the floor harshly, but you could care less. All you want right now is to jump into Harrison's arms and kiss all over his pretty little face and tell him best news he'll ever hear. And that's exactly what you intend to do as you push through his bedroom door.

Permanent Taglist: @embrace-themagic @delicioustommy @spiderman-n @winters-beauty @smexylemony @lolabean1998 @musiclover1263

Series Taglist: @h-natale @yourmum95 @the-great-adventures-of-marvel @giuls-394 @tomhollandthing @hbmoore1986 @justkeepdreaminganddreaming @xeniarocks @abunchofsemicoherentwords

*Bolded means Tumblr won’t let me tag you*

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justjessame · 4 years ago

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Dr. Tali Sullivan

The first time I met the Winchesters, I was far too young for them to make an impression. I was around two years old, and if I struggled and pressed my memory that far back, I could ALMOST make out the couple’s only son, Dean, keeping me occupied with my set of wooden blocks. Almost.

The second time I met the Winchesters, I was four. This time I do remember, because my dad was helping John, the father cope with his overwhelming grief at losing his wife. I heard the words I would be destined to hear over and over from the entirety of my life. ‘Demon’, ‘vengeance’, and of course ‘hunter’.

My mom and dad both came from prestigious hunting families. And I’m not talking about big game or seasonal hunters. No, Mom and Dad were hunters of a completely different sort. They hunted all the terrors that regular people would think were tall tales or ghost stories. I was their only child, and while they expected me to learn to defend myself against the forces of evil, they didn’t press me to take up their cause. Since their families were so important, I had plenty of aunts and uncles that could take up any slack my leaving the ‘family business’ could possibly cause. Then there were the latecomers to the cause, men like John Winchester who lost a loved one to the terrors and vowed to end them.

And so, after a few more visits from the Winchesters- when I was seven, Dean had teased me for being so boring with my nose in a book the entire time. At twelve, when Sam kept asking me to borrow one book or another, vowing to adhere to all my rules about their care. At sixteen, when John blinked at me wondering out loud how could I possibly have gotten so big. Memories of the three Winchesters were scarce, but memorable.

Now here I was, twenty nine and had finally achieved my goal. Dr. Tali Sullivan, Professor of Lore and the Occult, with a side of Ancient Dialects and Historical Significance. I was shocked, when in the second week of my second year of teaching, I looked up and saw the eldest Winchester man looking down from a top row seat. I nearly lost my place in the lecture. Nearly, but not quite. I swallowed my reaction and went back to explaining how, even within various different cultures and countries, the myths shared and circulated, all seemed to have a single thread back to one story. And that one story, branching out and circling the globe, would mean what?

“Your assignment, which is laid out in your syllabus, is to explain how that one thread untangling and branching out, would do what?” I smiled at the faces that proved they’d all been listening, almost hearing the gears churning in their heads. “Impress me, prove you’ve done not only the reading, but the deductive reasoning. Now go enjoy the long weekend!” I dismissed the class and walked to the desk provided beside my lectern. I was shuffling my notes and speaking to a few students when John approached.

“Wow, Tali,” he breathed, looking me over in my comfy and casual clothes. Skinny jeans, dark band t-shirt, and a loose button down with a pair of knee high boots. My dark red hair piled up on my head in a loose knot, with my much needed glasses covering my strangely light green eyes.

Since he was openly assessing my appearance, I felt free to do the same. John was aging like a fine wine. Salt and pepper hair, rugged scruff hiding a jaw that I knew from the years was this side of chiseled. His hazel eyes crinkling at the corners with amusement, that damn dimple deep in his cheek. And flannel covered henley paired with well worn jeans and a pair of lived in boots. Damn, when did John become so fucking sexy?

“John,” I answered, leaning back in my desk chair. “What brings you around for a visit?” I was smiling, but I had to wonder.

He leaned his hip on the side of my desk. “I’m having some issues with a case, it’s not far away, and I called your dad. He mentioned you wrote your thesis on what I think I’m after-”

“I wrote my thesis on the Barghest,” I said, staring at him. “What would be hard to understand about a huge ass dog who eats people in the dark?” I was testing him, of course, making sure he was certain that was what his case entailed.

“I think we both know there’s more to them than that.” He sighed and ran his left hand through his hair. His wedding ring flashed in the overhead light and I lost the rush of lust had felt when I first saw him. “This thing, it’s searching out a particular type of victim, and it’s attacking-”

“Acts as an death omen first, marking the victim, daring it’s victim to come out and play, and when they do.” I made a chewing motion with my mouth. “The fun things left out of Harry Potter.” I sighed, and closed my eyes, blocking John from my sight. “What do you need to know? Or better yet, what did Dad say I could offer?”

I heard him chuckle. “For one, is there a way to stop it, without being given the omen of death?” I nodded, and he went on. “What is it? And your dad said you are a font of information on all kinds of rare shit, darlin’.”

I rolled my closed eyes. “You stop it by hunting it without actually crossing its path.” I heard him writing my words down, so apparently he had a journal with him. Good student. “Don’t cross its path by getting behind it, of course. Killing it? That’s a little more difficult. Here’s the ingredients, and how to put it together, don’t fuck it up, John. I’d hate for the boys to end up without you.” I rattled off the weapon and the ingredients that it had to be soaked in, the order, the time frame. “So take that, get behind it, and aim for the back of the neck. Not the heart, not the head, the back of the neck.” I opened my eyes to him watching me. “What?”

He shook his head, but when he spoke his voice was deeper and huskier. If I didn’t know any better- “Nothin’.” He put the tattered journal in a pocket of his jacket that I hadn’t noticed before, that was laying on the top of my desk. “What do I owe you for the information, Tali?” I smiled. “Free of charge. It’s something I can give even if I turned my back on the ‘family business’.” I leaned forward to finish packing my notes away in my leather messenger back. “Be safe, John.” I was dismissing him, just like I did my students.

“Let me take you out to dinner.” His offer startled me. “Least I could do, and I do have to soak the weapon at least overnight.” He stood silent, waiting for my answer.

And a stalemate ensued. I contemplated all the reasons I could give to not accept. How could I explain that dinner would be a terrible idea, since apparently he was sex on a stick and still hooked on his dead wife, or remarried for all I knew? “I think that’s a bad idea.” I said instead, the pregnant pause finally killing me. “Papers to grade.” Netflix to watch, food to nuke I included silently.

“Thought you said there’s a long weekend?” He replied, raising his eyebrow in challenge.

Well, fuck, Tali. He actually paid attention to the end of class. Shit. “Yeah, it is, but I have other classes, other papers. Can’t get behind, you know.”

He chuckled. “Still gotta eat, right?” I shrugged. “So eat with me. I promise to get you home as quickly as possible.” He put his left hand over his heart in pledge, and that ring flashed again.

I swallowed. It was dinner. Nothing more. And I was a grown ass woman, with a fucking PhD after all. It wasn’t like he was flirting. He just wanted to have company for dinner. “Sure.” I answered, pushing the last of my notes in my bag. I scribbled my cell number on a Post-It note and handed it to him. “Call me when you’ve gotten the weapon ready for its marinade, I’ll give you my address then.” I stood and yanked my bag across my body. “See you later, John.” I tossed my parting over my shoulder, hoping I wouldn’t regret agreeing.

HOURS LATER~ COMING HOME FROM DINNER

We were both laughing. I had told John about a really strange spell a witch had cast on my parents when I was a teenager, and while mortified at the time, found it funnier later on.

“So I walk into my house after school, and there they are, tearing their clothes off on our dining room table.” I closed my eyes and tried to calm my giggles to finish. “Like fucking teenagers, horny, gross parent aged teenagers.” His laughter was contagious. “I couldn’t eat in the dining room until I came back last Thanksgiving.” I gave a dramatic shudder.

John was walking me to the door of my house, and his chuckles were more free than they’d been when we first saw one another in my class. His hand rested on the small of my back, like a gentleman seeing a lady home. “God, I’m gonna have to riff him about that the next time I see him.” We reached my door and I pulled my keys free from my pocket. “Guess I should-”

I shook my head as I opened the door. “By my estimation that blade needs another twelve hours to soak.” I said, squinting in remembrance of the instruction I gave him. “Come in and have a cup of something-” He chuckled again, “I don’t drink coffee, but I have some instant, just in case.” I shrugged, and he nodded his agreement.

Over the threshold, I moved further into the house, listening as John shut and locked my door. I made my way to the kitchen, yelling back for him to make himself at home. I tossed my jacket and keys on the counter in the kitchen and made peace with John checking over the house. He’s a hunter, so I knew he was looking around with curiosity. He’d be checking entrances, exits, and probably just looking around to see what kind of research material I had on hand. I made a cup of instant coffee, heating the water in the microwave as I grabbed a glass and filled it with ice for a glass of soda.

When I walked out to the living room, John was sitting on the sofa. He’d tossed his jacket onto the wingback chair, and he looked comfortable. It was almost unnerving how comfortable he looked in my space. “I hope I made this right,” I offered him the coffee cup and sat down with my feet tucked under me on the other side of the sofa. Taking a sip of my soda, I sat it down on the coffee table and sat back. “Why aren’t Dean and Sam with you?” I asked, burning with interest since I saw him all alone in my classroom, but waiting until we were in a more private setting than the college or dinner afforded.

John took an appreciative sip of his own drink. “Not bad, Tali.” He mirrored my move and sat his own cup on the table in front of us and looked over at me. “Dean’s on his own hunt, with Bobby. Sam, well Sam’s away at Stanford.” I raised an eyebrow, surprised not by Sam’s aspirations, but because John entertained them. “It wasn’t pretty when he asked to go, not by a long shot, but I guess seeing you, here, outside of the business makes it more understandable.”

I nodded and asked the next obvious question. “What’s he studying?” I sank into the cushions of my sofa and studied him as he answered.

“Law,” he chuckled. “Might come in handy, especially where Dean’s concerned.”

I gave my own muffled laugh. “Guessing Dean hasn’t gotten his crap together yet?” I reached for my soda and felt John’s eyes on my every movement. Taking another sip, I chose to keep the glass in my hands. “I got lucky, I guess. Studying lore and history, that made it simple to move on from the family business, but still be able to help.” I sighed, and leaned back. “Keeps me from feeling too guilty for taking my parents up on the offer to choose myself over the greater good.”

John’s gaze hadn’t left me. “You shouldn’t feel guilty at all. Even if you’d chosen some other path.” He offered his own sigh and reached for his coffee cup. “The longer I do this, the more I realize that I’ve been an asshole for making the boys follow me.”

I scoffed. “Dean idolizes you, John. He has since the first time I can remember your visits fully.” I thought back to the golden haired boy and how his green eyes were always watching his Dad, mimicking his posture, his gestures. “In fact, I bet I could tell you what he’s wearing just by what you are.”

John raised an eyebrow. “Paid a lot of attention to my boy, did you?” I bit my lip and laughed at his expression.

“We’re the same age,” I shrugged. “Since you and Mom and Dad insisted that we socialize, it was hard NOT to pay attention to Dean.” I thought back to Dean’s not so subtle attempt, when I was sixteen, to try to get in my panties. “He was a bit much, if you know what I mean?”

It was his turn to laugh. “That’s Dean, alright.” He glanced over at me as he took another drink of coffee. “So did you two-”

I nearly spit out the drink I had just taken of my soda. Coughing, and trying to swallow around the shock of that implied thought, I took a moment to calm my shock. “NO.” I answered, loud enough that he knew how wrong the very idea of Dean and me was. “We didn’t have ANYTHING, John.”

His laughter shook my end of the sofa. I glared over at him, daring him to make me choke on the sip I was taking. “Sorry, honey, it’s just your face when I asked. It’s one of the few times I’ve seen a girl your age act like Dean was the plague.”

Girl my age? I snorted, having swallowed my drink. “Girl?” I raised an eyebrow at the older man. “I’m nearly thirty. Then again, a man YOUR age, isn’t that when the memory goes?”

It was his turn to choke on his drink. He sputtered and I giggled, watching him glare at me. “You insinuating that I’m old, little girl?” The tone he was using was dangerously low, but instead of frightening me, I felt a twist of lust building.

I shrugged. “You’re insisting I’m a little girl, aren’t you?” I smirked at him as he put his cup carefully on the coffee table.

“I might have to prove just how good my memory is,” he took my glass from me and sat it carefully down too. “Like,” he moved closer so I could feel the heat from his body. “The last time I saw you, you’d just turned sixteen. You came down the stairs wearing that little sundress with cherry blossoms all over it.” He leaned in, his nose sliding along my jaw. “And your perfume smelled like vanilla and cherry mixed together.” I felt his lips ghosting over my neck, not touching, not yet. “I remember that scent, because you hugged me and told me how happy you were to see me again. Not Dean, not Sam, but me.” His lips brushed against my pulse. “I knew at that moment, you’d be the ruin of me, Tali.”

I turned, and his lips found mine. I moaned into his kiss, feeling like I was on fire. His hands gripped my hips and pulled me from my seat and over onto his lap. Straddling him, I let my fingers slide through his hair. The stubble on his face was gloriously rough and burning against my skin. One of his hands gripped my waist the other pressed into my back, pressing me tight against his chest. My hips rocked against him, feeling his arousal grow.

Breaking the kiss, our faces inches apart, breath mingling, I could see how dark his eyes were. His chuckle rocked through me, and I smiled. “My ruin,” he muttered, standing up with me locked in his arms. Before I could point in the direction of my bedroom, he’d pressed me against the nearest bare wall. My legs wrapped around his hips as his lips found my neck. His body was hard against mine, and I moaned as he nipped the curve where my neck met my shoulder. “Fuck, Tali, we’re not even naked and I swear you feel like fire.” I rocked into his hardness and he groaned.

“It’s not that I,” I had to stop when he sucked at my pulsepoint to gather my wits to continue my thought. “Not that I don’t love how this feels.” Another roll of my hips and he growled into my skin again. “But my bed is right there.” I tilted my head toward the hallway next to us. I felt the curve of his lips against my flushed skin.

“I’ve held back for so fuckin’ long, baby girl,” his mouth was hot against the skin he could taste. His hips thrust into my covered need. “If you insist on a bed, though,” he sighed, “then my princess gets what she wants.” He carried me down the hallway and through the open door of my bedroom.

My fingers reached out and flicked on the lightswitch that controlled my side table lamps. Soft light filled the room as John’s mouth claimed mine again. I felt him lower me to my feet, but then it was a rush of clothes falling, mouths, tongues, and teeth tasting and kissing exposed skin. Fingers brushing against skin, mine teasing the muscles roped through his body, his the softness of my curves.

My eyes drunk him in as he lowered me onto my bed. He was gorgeous, sexy and being far more sensual than the wall fuck he’d been going for earlier. As his lips met my breast, I gasped and arched upward toward his mouth. His tongue flicked against my nipple and my fingers gripped his head. “You taste so fucking good, darlin’.” His breath fanned against my skin, and I felt a tightening in my stomach. “God, there’s so much I want with you. So much I want to do-”

I pulled his hair, drawing him up so he was hovering over me, face to face. “Kiss me, John.” And he did as my legs wrapped around his hips and forced him to lower further into me. “I can’t wait. Don’t make me wait,” I pleaded, and he took the demand in stride. He nodded, his forehead against mine. “Later, then,” he promised, himself and me. Then his hips lurched against me, our bodies joining FINALLY as though I were made for him. “Oh, Tali,” he moaned as I rolled my hips against him. “That feels-” And then words stopped, everything stopped except for him and me. Our bodies took over. Clutching one another, as though there shouldn’t even be air between us. His thrusts, my rocking hips, sweat and moans. Everything crashing over us all at once. Not overwhelming, not splintering our focus, just keeping us going and going.

It could have been seconds, minutes, or even hours, but we both felt the climb begin. The feeling that started when he whispered his memory of me, the feeling of our lips touching for the first time, the feeling of everything coming together exactly how it was supposed to. And then fire and stars and explosions. I’d always thought that was ridiculous writers imagining what sex and love were, but then I had it. And all I could think, as we held each other in the aftermath was how much I wanted it over and over.

We had the entire night, and John and I made sure we took advantage of the hours. We tasted one another, dipping back to foreplay once we’d recovered from our first round, then more and more and more. We finally fell exhausted in a tangle of limbs and kisses mere hours before dawn.

I didn’t expect him to be beside me when I woke. He had a job to do, after all, but I was surprised by the note. The promise of his return after the hunt. And when he followed through I nearly exploded by the mere sight of him at the front door. We had the entire weekend. Two full days, and three explosive nights before he had to go. This time I saw him off, kissed him goodbye and had another promise from him. That he’d be back. He had to, he swore, because having the nights we’d stolen weren’t enough. For him or for me.

Months passed. He’d text or call. And then nothing. No texts, no calls. His voicemail, when I bothered to call, advised to contact Dean if there was a problem. I didn’t worry. I understood how hunters lived. I knew that they lived hard and on the go. I knew that he’d come back, call again, text again when he could.

I was in my classroom giving another lecture when I looked up and saw Dean sitting with Sam in almost the exact same place their father had sat. My heart clenched. They wouldn’t be here, Sam wouldn’t be here if it were good news. I managed, through sheer force of will and the fact that my lectures were practically memorized by now, to finish the class. I barely noticed the other students file out, I had eyes only on the two Winchesters.

“Tali,” Sam greeted me, smiling the same awkward smile I remembered from our youth. “You look right at home at that lectern.” Dean's eyes were burning into me. “Have you heard from Dad?” That was Dean, not an ounce of tact in his entire body.

“Not for a couple of months,” I answered, smiling and moving back to my desk. Feelings of deja vu washed over me as I pulled my notes into a tidy pile. “Why? What’s wrong?”

Sam sighed, running a hand through his hair, so reminiscent of his dad. “He’s missing in action, Tal.” He looked down at me. “We found the last hotel room he was staying in and you were mentioned in his journal.”

Ah, yeah, the work I helped him with. “Yeah, he came to me about a Barghest. I helped him with the right weapon and the right place to shove it in to kill it.” Shrugging, hoping that was all that John put in his journal, I glanced at Dean.

“He mentioned that, and also,” he pulled the battered journal I’d watched John tuck into his jacket in this very room. I saw a sticky note with my phone number on it in my writing. “Her eyes are still so light that they look straight through me, and those lips-”

I stopped them with a raised hand and felt my face blush. “Yeah, about that.” I swallowed hard and looked up to two far too interested Winchesters. “Look, John and I, we had a-” World changing connection that I hoped would turn into something, but he’s a hunter and I’m a professor. We settled for a weekend of passion and love, and now he’s gone? Yeah, try harder. “We made the most of a long weekend.” That damn blush was so hot I felt like I was on fire. “I haven’t heard from him in a month or so.”

Dean was looking at me like I’d grown fangs, or another head. “Our DAD?” He also looked a tad green around his gills. “You and Dad?” He tried to wrap his head around it, but shook it off. “And he stayed in touch?”

“Yeah, we’d text and call almost daily.” I said, putting my papers away, feeling my shame die out. What the hell? I loved John, there wasn’t anything wrong with that. “Unless he was in the middle of a hunt. That was the last text I got, actually.” I pulled my phone out of my pocket and opened up my messages. Clicking on John’s number I pulled it up. Handing it over to Sam, I finished gathering my stuff together.

Sam read the last message, respecting my privacy, but Dean took a turn and I saw a swipe. “Hey!” I admonished. “You never swipe another person’s phone,” I yanked it from his hand, and put it back in my pocket. “The last message was the only one you needed to see.”

Dean was licking his lips, fuck, I knew exacty which text he saw. “Well, we need to be thorough. Dad’s missing after all.”

I glared up at him. “Sure.” I brushed past them, and shook my head again. “Well, now what you’ve been THOROUGH, you know I don’t know where he is.” I waved a hand to show them I was finished with the conversation.

Of course they weren’t. I’d barely gotten comfortable at home when I heard the knock. Fuck. Opening the door, there they stood. “What now?” I asked, exasperated. “You saw what you saw. I don’t know anything else.”

Dean pushed past me into the house, Sam waited to be invited. Rolling my eyes I gestured for him to come in too. We stood awkwardly in my entryway. I waited for one of them to break the silence. Sam was the first.

“Look, Tali, we get that you don’t think you know anything, but you might.” He was trying to calm my irritation down. Irritation and worry. Worry that John was hurt or worse. “Can we sit?”

I nodded and walked them into my living room. I took the chair and they sat on the sofa. A sofa that months ago John and I had started on. Shaking the image away, I considered all the talks and texts we’d shared. Nothing strange or concerning came to mind. “I’m sorry, John and I, we were talking normal hunting research, when we discussed it.” I refused to blush again. “He mentioned only that he might be out of touch for a while, but not where he was going. And then when I felt that too much time had passed, I tried to call, but-”

“You were told to call me,” Dean finished. “Why didn’t you?” He sounded almost accusatory.

“Because,” I sighed. “I figured that maybe John started to regret it. Us. Me.” I looked up and saw that he was uncomfortable. “If there’s one thing I’m not, Dean, it’s a clingy ex.”

“You said you talked about normal hunting research,” Sam picked up the conversation. “Do you remember what cases?”

I nodded and went to the desk in the corner of the room. “I keep records of all of those types of things. I help a lot of hunters with the more obscure demons and do bads.” I grabbed my planner. Flipping back to the first day we’d met at the college, I handed it over to Sam. “It starts there,” I used my finger to point out the shorthand I used for John, “and if you flip through it, you’ll see when and where he called from, and what hunt he’d discussed.” I sat back down as they flipped through it. “Not every contact is in there, since not all of them were work related.”

Sam nodded, but Dean’s mood seemed to grow worse. “Do you have a calendar to keep track of those too?” He snarked. I glared at him and shook my head. “Isn’t that disappointing.”

I snorted at his demeanor. “It wouldn’t help you find him. They overlapped. Usually it was a call before he got the next case, and a call after to make sure I knew he was safe.” I raised an eyebrow to match the one he had, daring him to make another comment. “Can I keep this?” Sam asked, drawing my attention back to him. “Or copy it?”

“You can copy it, but I have to keep it. John isn’t the only hunter that I help with research. That’s the record I use to keep track of it.” He nodded. “If you follow me back to campus, I can get you one, or if you want me to, I guess I could scan it here and give you those copies?”

“Email it,” Sam offered, and I took the planner back and moved back to my desk to start. I hadn’t realized he’d followed me until I felt him sit in my chair. “Was he happy?” His voice was quiet, and I knew that Dean was still on the sofa.

“Yeah, he was.” I smiled, remembering how playful John had been when I’d said goodbye on my porch. “He was also coming to terms with your future, though it would seem that’s on hold now?”

He swallowed and I finally realized how tired he looked. “Something like that.” He glanced up at me and I saw such pain. “I just really need to find him, Tali. We both do.”

“I hope this helps then,” I said, as the last page scanned. “Here,” I unlocked my desktop and opened my email. “Just type in your email, and the pages are there,” I pointed at the icon. I turned back to see that Dean was still watching us, me. I sighed. Then I went back to the chair I’d taken when we got to the room. “What happened to him?” I asked, almost whispering, and gesturing with my head at Sam.

“The same thing that happened to Mom.” He barely moved his lips and I closed my eyes. “I don’t understand you and Dad, but we have to find him, Tali.”

I nodded. “You’ll have the pages, and I’ll make some calls.” I offered, knowing that the Winchesters would always be surrounded by pain and death. I just hoped that John wasn’t a fatality already. “I’ll let you know if I learn anything.”

Sam was back and they finally left after I assured them one more time that I’d try to learn something for them. My back was pressed to the closed front door as I listened to them walk down the steps. I felt the tears that I had been feeling build since I saw the two of them at the top of my classroom finally break free. Sobbing, I had to hope that John was alright, that he would be found. That he’d come back to me.

#john winchester x ofc #supernatural fanfiction #Smut

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solange-lol · 5 years ago

Text

not so typical love song - ch. 1/13

Chapter Title: Rollarcoaster

Words: 3,050

Note: my piece for the @pjo-hoo-bigbang !!! special thanks to @shelbychild and @wisdom-walks-alone for editing and helping me develop this story! it wouldnt exist w/o y’all!

Art by @lizzybizzyo! <3

read on ao3

—

Nico is staring at his computer, wordless. This isn't writer's block or surprise; it’s just the unknown reality of what this situation could lead to.

Another gay kid in his school. Another gay kid that isn’t Mitchell—who’s been out since 8th grade, and the only one to be out since then. Another kid at their school who’s hiding a secret.

Nico doesn’t even know if this kid is a boy or a girl or what, and frankly, he doesn’t care. There’s another kid like him. And he has no idea how to respond to the post.

The post is a submission from their school’s gossip blog on Tumblr, the notorious ‘hb-secrets.’ Piper had called him an hour ago, asking if he’d seen it yet.

“Seen what?” he had responded.

“The post on hb-secrets? About the closeted gay kid?” It hit Nico like a wall of bricks as he quickly went to pull up the website. Did somebody know? It was a relief when he saw the clipart Ferris wheel and a few short lines submitted by a blog called blue0919.

“I bet it’s that Brazilian sophomore. Paolo or whatever? Or maybe it’s Connor Stoll! I swear he’s been flirting with Mitchell, but Annabeth keeps telling me that he’s into Lacy or someone,” Piper continued as he read, but it was going in one ear and out the other as he processed the words on the screen

Sometimes I feel like I’m stuck on a Ferris wheel. One minute I’m on top of the world, and the next minute I’m at rock bottom. Over and over all day long, because a lot of my life is great. But nobody knows I’m gay.

“Gotta go. I’ll talk later,” Nico said quickly, switching off his phone. He knew it would raise suspicion, but it felt like time was turning in on itself. Nobody knew about Nico. In fact, nobody ever even suspected. He’s never been called names besides “Death Boy.” And yet, there were the exact words that described his life, written out in front of him like they were a second thought.

And now, he was staring at his computer with an empty Gmail draft open. The original poster had left their email at the end of the post, so Nico after glancing quickly at his Panic! at the Disco poster still proudly hanging on his wall, typed out a new address. He was stuck, though, unsure of what to say from here.

So, he started from the beginning.

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Date: Oct 2 at 6:48 PM

Subject: Hey

Somehow you’ve managed to type exactly what I feel. Sorta scary, as if you’re inside my head or something. Maybe it’s just a gay thing to be speaking in metaphors about the pressure of everyday society.

That’s what I am. Gay. I don’t know if I’ve ever really said it out loud to myself.

It’s weird because I never really had a perfectly normal life. My mom died when I was young, so I never really got to meet her. My sister and I have always been super close until she went away to college. Now, not as much. I guess that’s just what happens when you live a million miles away.

And I’ve known my stepmom longer than I knew my real mom, but it was only a few years ago when I met my half-sister when she came to live with us because her mom died as well. Meaning, she isn’t the daughter of my stepmom. It’s a long story, and not really one I want to get into.

She’s super nice though. It’s funny, but despite being polar opposites with my older sister, they’re both mushy inside. Same with my stepmom. And my dad… he tries his best. We’re like exactly what you expect from a slightly broken family. Plus my dog who my cousin gave to me during a rough time. Honestly, she’s probably my favorite sibling out of them all. (Both my sisters would kill me if they knew I wrote that.)

And then there are my friends. I have some that are closer than others; Two of them I’ve known for a while now, and one who I only met recently but treats me better than some of the people I’ve known my whole life. While I admit, I’m not the most social person in the world, they’re pretty amazing as far as friends go.

So there it is. My perfectly normal life. Except for that huge ass secret.

He typed and retyped each line what felt like a thousand times, deleting word after word. He didn't know what was too much. It all felt like too much, really. He didn’t even know if he could trust this person.

Signing it was the worst part; he didn’t have any good pseudonyms. Eventually, he decided to leave it blank.

Without a second thought, Nico hit ‘send’ before leaning back in his chair and putting his hands over his head. Only a second later, a light knock came from the door, causing him to quickly sit up as Hazel popped her head in.

“Dinner’s ready if you wanna eat,” she smiled. She left just as quickly as she came, curls bouncing as she walked away. They had gotten over the awkwardness of having a new sibling only months after Hazel moved in, but there was still some strangeness. To this day, Nico was still a lot closer to her than Bianca was. Either way, Nico knew he would do anything for her. (Not that he would admit that. He didn't even need to, Hazel already knew.)

Nico glanced back at his computer, but there was nothing in his inbox besides the Gmail “Welcome” email. It was stupid to think this person would respond that quickly, seeing as Nico didn't even know if they would respond at all. Heaving a sigh, he got up to join his family for dinner. Maybe he could even convince them to watch Steven Universe instead of The Bachelor.

---

Dinner went as expected. It’d been a while, actually, since they were all together for a meal. Hazel talked about her psycho geometry teacher and a boy she talked in the class named Frank, who seemed sweet but apparently had a shared hatred for math just like her. Nico didn’t say much, although chimed in at the latter, saying he better be the flower boy at their wedding. That even got a short scoff out of his father, which tended to be the closest Nico ever got him laughing. So, that was a win.

However, he was a little more distant than usual. The pending email response was in the back of his mind during the entire meal.

Even afterward, as they watched reruns of Glee (a compromise made between Hazel and Nico, much to their father’s dismay), Nico couldn’t focus. It felt like a weight was burning through his back pocket. After the second episode (and laughing his ass off at his father’s reaction to Kurt’s ‘Single Ladies’ dance) he finally excused himself.

He tapped the Gmail app on his phone as soon as he had reached his room. It felt like his heart skipped a beat when he noticed the new notification, a response from the original poster. With slightly shaky hands, he tapped the response, and a message opened up.

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Date: Oct 2 at 8:12 PM

Subject: I’ve never done this before

Dear anonymous person on the internet,

I really don’t know where to begin. I’m also not sure if you're a real person. For all I know you could be some random pedophile like one of those cases they warned us about in health class for the past 5 years, even though it’s never happened within the last decade.

But in case you are real, hello! I’m the original poster from that hb-secrets thread about life being a Ferris wheel. I’m rereading what I wrote there and I can’t stop cringing, so I’ll start by apologizing for that. I’m not usually one for metaphors, even the bad ones.

Anyway, it sounds like you identify with what I wrote. I’m glad you emailed me; I didn’t think anyone would actually do anything with the email that I left. Except maybe be extremely homophobic. But it made me feel less like I was shouting into the void, so thanks for that. And I assume you’re okay with me writing back since you sent me the first email. Though, I can’t believe I’m actually writing to you. I really didn’t think I would.

I guess I’m thinking it could be nice to talk with someone who can relate to how I’m feeling. No pressure, of course, but feel free to write back if you want to. I don’t want to use my real name, but you can call me Blue.

It was surreal. Someone who was like Nico. Someone who wanted to talk to Nico because they were like him.

He started to type again, with more excitement than he’s ever felt. He’s never been able to express this part of him before. It was almost like first date jitters-type feeling.

(Not that he really knew what that was like.)

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Date: Oct 2 at 8:23 PM

Subject: Re: I’ve never done this before

Hi, Blue

Wow, I’m actually kind of flipping out right now, because I seriously didn’t think I’d hear from you, especially so quickly. Wow. Okay. First of all, thanks for your email and also for your Tumblr post. I really liked it, Blue, and it wasn’t cringy at all, I promise.

So do you go here (here meaning HBHS)? I do, I’m a junior. And I’m a guy (are you a guy?) Anyway, I could relate a lot to your post, Like, pretty much all of it, but especially the part about being gay. You probably figured that out already though. And I’m not out yet either, which you probably figured that part out too.

I guess a part of me wants to be out, but a part of me’s like… no. It’s hard to explain. I don’t know. Maybe you get it.

So yeah, it’s really nice to meet you! This is kind of cool, right? Even writing this email makes me feel eleven times less alone.

-Angel (not my real name either, two can play at this game. It’s not like a pet-name type thing. If you ever find out who I am, you’ll understand why.)

He was worried about the whole name-signing thing. ‘Angel’ was just the easiest thing; it was a direct translation of his last name. He was really hoping Blue still didn’t take it in a weird way, even with that last note.

Relief flooded through him when he read the first sentence of Blue’s next email.

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Date: Oct 2 at 8:41 PM

Subject: Re: I’ve never done this before

Angel, huh? Maybe like guardian angel perhaps.

Also, eleven times less alone? That’s oddly specific. :) But I know exactly what you mean.

Anyway, wow. Hi. You wrote back, and quickly too. I’m really glad you liked my post. Now I’m actually happy I put it out there. I have to admit, it’s strange to be writing a somewhat personal email to you when we don’t know each other’s identities. Though, in a way, I guess that makes it easier. Sorta like a therapist, except we’re both blindfolded and have the same problem. So not really a therapist, I guess.

Do you think therapists have therapists? Like, if the problems get to be too much for them? Is there an Almighty Therapist who just absorbs everyone's issues and feels nothing?

Anyway, I am a guy, and I’m also a junior at HB. I think you’re actually the first other gay guy I’ve met here. It’s pretty surreal to be talking to you. (In a good way though.) I wonder if we know each other in real life.

And I think I understand what you mean. I feel like I’m constantly going back and forth about wanting to come out. I have these moments where I’m almost bursting to tell people. Of course, that’s where I was when I posted the thing on Tumblr. But I always feel so weird about it a few hours later, and sometimes I’m intensely relieved no one knows yet. What about you?

-Blue

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Date: Oct 2 at 9:12 PM

Subject: Re: I’ve never done this before

I mean, let’s be real, eleven is the best number, which is perfect because we’re both in eleventh grade. And I can't believe we’re both juniors. The class is pretty small compared to the others, so I bet we do know each other, which is weird to think about. What if we’re actually enemies in real life? Do you have enemies? I don’t think I do, not really. Various people tend to annoy me a lot. It’s not even their fault; some people just have really punchable faces.

(I’m usually a really nonviolent person. I’m more like a violent person who at the same doesn’t really want to hurt anyone, so I have to resort to fantasizing about punching people, which just ends in eating my feelings in large quantities of McDonald’s.)

It’s funny for me, it’s actually not so much that go back and forth about wanting to come out. It’s like I simultaneously do and don’t want to be out. Which is pretty freaking exhausting, honestly. Like I’m in this constant state of JUST SAY IT and NO NEVER. Do you think that ever ends? I don’t know, maybe I’m just a really indecisive person. I think part of me is also just holding out until college when I’m away from anyone I know and can just reinvent myself.

So what kind of stuff do you like to do after school and everything?

-Angel

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Date: Oct 2 at 9:34 PM

Subject: Re: I’ve never done this before

I don’t think I have any enemies, but now I’m definitely wondering if I’m the guy with the punchable face. How do you know if you have a punchable face? I’ve never been punched, so hopefully, that’s a good sign.

I will say, I’m definitely with you on the issue of eating your feelings. I’m the person who has never smoked a cigarette or gotten drunk or anything like that, and I'm usually relatively healthy. However, I once ate five jars of Nutella in one sitting. I do not recommend,

I’m indecisive, too, in some ways. Okay, full disclosure: I was really conflicted when you sent me that email. I kept going back and forth about whether I should email you. I was (and am) definitely intrigued, but I guess I was also a little bit paranoid. It’s just that you could have been anyone, and it’s hard to know sometimes if someone’s being a jerk or if they’re being sincere. Plus my cousin sort of actually outed me. Not to anyone else, he’s the only one who knows, but now I’m super paranoid about coming out. (Exactly what you said about holding out until college. I’m thinking I can move to LA or somewhere where nobody really cares. Although I wouldn’t want to reinvent myself. And I don’t want you to reinvent yourself either, you’re pretty cool as you are I think.) Anyway, I’m really glad I decided to email you, though.

So, you’re probably going to think I’m ridiculous, but I’d rather not answer your last question. It’s just… I think I like being anonymous for now. Is that okay?

-Blue

Okay, that last part was fair. Nico understood the wanting-to-be-anonymous thing. Sure, they go to the same school. But Blue had no reason to entirely trust him; Nico didn’t really trust Blue at all. This could entirely be some random asshole anywhere in the world trying to find him and beat him up, or worse. It sucked that homophobia was still a thing in their day and age.

But Blue said he liked talking to Nico, and it was thrilling to talk to him. It was another secret of his, but not one he entirely minded keeping. So, he chose to believe that Blue was actually who he said he was.

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Date: Oct 2 at 9:57 PM

Subject: Punchability

Blue, you have so much to learn about the rules of punchability, starting with the fact that it is completely impossible for you to have a punchable face. Rule number one: guys who make metaphors about Ferris wheels are automatically unpunchable. Rule number two: There isn’t one. Just rule number one, so memorize it. Everyone else can catch these fists. (Catch these fists? These hands? This would probably be more intimidating if I knew the correct phrasing)

Also, five jars of Nutella in one sitting is the worst idea I’ve ever heard in my life. Challenge accepted.

I don’t think you’re ridiculous, Blue. I totally understand why you don't want to tell me about your extracurricular activities (I’m guessing interpretive dance, though, you seem like the type.) But seriously, I get it. It’s this weird contradiction, right? It’s so much easier to be open with someone who doesn't know you at all. We’ll be each other's Ultimate Therapists.

(Except I don’t think I could ever be a therapist.)

Anyway, I’m really glad you decided to email me back, too :)

-Angel

That smiley face was really unlike him.

Nico sent the email, but after nearly an hour, he didn’t get on back, which meant Blue was probably asleep. Which was different from what Nico was used to; he tended to stay awake until the early hours of the morning most nights. But it wasn’t anything he minded. He had a conversation with Blue, and even if that was the last one they would ever have (which, he was hoping it wouldn’t be), it was good to know that there was somewhere out there like him.

#solangelo #heros of olympus #pjo #will solace #nico di angelo #pjo hoo big bang 2019 #im willing to make a tag list for this but i didnt want to use my general solangelo taglist #so if you would like a taglist for this fic lmk!#nstls

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starker-stories · 5 years ago

Text

An Accord (WIS), Chapter 4

I’ll be re-creating my individual chapter posts for An Accord over here on the blog that replaces starkerstories. Until I hit the current chapter, I’ll be posting daily. They’ll have links to both tumblr and AO3 chapter links. I’m sorry if that bothers people who’ve seen this all before in the tag. I’m content to leave all my other fic as AO3 only, but this is my current favorite child, so I’m spoiling it rotten.

This fic is on a weekly update schedule. Hopefully every Friday. (After I finish the repost.) More chapters may appear sooner if the writing is going well. Because I have 0 self-control.

Tumblr Chapter Links: ch1, ch2, ch3, ch4, ch5, ch6, ch7, ch8, ch9, ch10, ch11, ch12, ch13 AO3 Chapter Links: ch1, ch2, ch3, ch4, ch5, ch6, ch7, ch8, ch9, ch10, ch11, ch12, ch13

Tags: Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Post-Spider-Man: Homecoming, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Polyamory Negotiations, Polyamory, Cheating, Past Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Domestic Nightmare Tony Stark, Reconciliation, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, WinterIronSpider, Happy Ending, Clothed Sex, Domesticity, Peter Parker is legal age in the state of New York, College Student Peter Parker, Takes place about 2 years after Civil War. Closeted Character

Summary: “I’m gonna go start dinner because otherwise you two will never eat. How did you survive before I took up residence in Tony’s kitchen?” ——————————————————————————————

Chapter 4: Like a fuckin’ sleeping kitten

Bucky knocked quietly on the master bedroom door. There wasn’t an answer, but that was clearly Peter’s voice crying out for help. And the kid wasn’t stopping. Hesitantly, he turned the doorknob. “Peter?”

“Help! Somebody help him!”

Peter was alone in bed, on his stomach, arms splayed out, fists grabbing the sheets, his body twisting. Bucky sat on the edge of the bed.

“Peter.” He’d never had to deal with anyone else’s nightmares before. “Peter, it’s Bucky.” He tried to remember the things the kid had said to him. “You’re safe. You’re in Stark Tower. You’re in Tony’s bed. You’re safe Peter.” He didn’t know much about someone else’s nightmares, but he knew enough about his own. Don’t touch him. Don’t stop him from flailing. Don’t try to shake him awake. Don’t turn on the bright lights. “Hey, Peter. It’s Bucky. You’re having a nightmare. It’s not real. You’re in your home.”

Peter’s vision was blurred with tears as he blinked his eyes open. “Tony?” he said in a small pained whine. He reached his hand out.

“It’s Bucky. You were having a nightmare. I don’t know where Tony is.”

“Oh.” Peter lay still, breathing shallowly but too fast.

Bucky reached over and touched Peter’s outstretched hand. “I’m here, Peter. It’s Bucky.”

“Oh.” His brow furrowed.

“You’re not awake yet, are you?”

“Tony?” Peter’s voice started to rise toward panic again.

“No. Bucky.” He looked down at his hand holding Peter’s. He changed hands. “Peter…” He spread Peter’s palm over the back of his metal hand. “It’s Bucky. You’re having a nightmare. I’m here. You’re safe.”

Peter’s fingers curled around Bucky’s hand. He smiled sleepily and blinked a few times. “Hey Bucky.”

“Hey Peter. Are you awake?”

“Uh huh.”

Bucky ducked his head to look into Peter’s face.

“Hi. I’m awake,” Peter said back. He rolled onto his side and curled up, still not letting go of Bucky’s hand.

“Where’s Tony?”

“Iron Man business. He had to leave right after we went to bed. FRIDAY, where’s Tony?”

“He’s in New Zealand, Peter. Should I tell him you need him?”

“No. I’m okay. Is that family okay?”

“Yes. The boss has the part of the building they’re in stabilized. He and Colonel Rhodes are searching for other survivors.”

“Don’t interrupt him, Fri. It was just a nightmare. Bucky’s here. I’m okay.” He bit his lip. “Good night FRIDAY,” he said reluctantly. He looked at Bucky. “He can’t be distracted right now and she’ll tell him.”

“Are you okay?”

Peter curled in tighter around the duvet. He shook his head.

“Wanna talk about it?”

He shook his head again.

“Wanna call Tony?”

Peter’s voice was small. “Can you… can you stay?”

“Sure, kid.”

Peter looked up at him. “You don’t mind?”

“Will Tony mind?”

“That you stayed to help me get over a nightmare? No.” He bit his lip again. “Can you… get in bed?”

Bucky climbed into the ridiculously huge bed and sat up, leaning against the headboard. Peter’s hand immediately took his metal one and held it.

“Do you mind? I know it’s you then.”

“It’s okay, Peter.” Bucky liked it that Peter and Tony both touched him on his left arm no differently than his right.

Peter balled himself up in the duvet. He put his head in Bucky’s lap, looking away from him. He picked up Bucky’s other hand and put it on his head. His sigh shuddered. And his breath hitched as he started to quietly cry.

Bucky wasn’t sure that Tony would see this as such an innocent sight if he were to walk in the door right then, but Peter was obviously a very tactile person when he was upset. He slowly started to thread his fingers through Peter’s hair. The boy’s tears stopped after a bit and his breaths evened out. Bucky could tell he’d fallen asleep.

He hadn’t realized he fell asleep as well until he felt a light touch on his shoulder.

“Shh. I don’t want to wake him up,” Tony whispered. “Didn’t want to wake you up either, but didn’t want you to kill me if you felt me climbing into bed,” Tony said smiling as he did so. “Nightmare?”

“Yes.”

Tony curled up against Peter’s back.

“I’ll go,” Bucky whispered.

“You’ll wake him up and Fri says he only fell sound asleep two hours ago.”

“New Zealand okay?” Bucky asked.

“Still to the right of Australia where I left it. You can go if you want. If he wakes up I’ll be here. Trying to sleep like that’s gotta be uncomfortable.”

“I’ve slept in worse positions. I don’t want to wake Peter up.”

“Can’t move because of him. Like a fuckin’ sleeping kitten.”

“Like a fuckin’ awake kitten,” Peter muttered, still half asleep. He reached back and pulled Tony’s arm around his waist. He still didn’t let go of Bucky’s metal hand. “’M tired. Shut up.”

~~~~~

FRIDAY woke them up to announce an urgent call from Maria Hill. None of them were still sleepers. Bucky had slid down fully onto the bed. Tony was sprawled half across Peter’s body. His arm had reached from around his waist to entirely cross the boy and was resting on Bucky’s knee. Peter still had a death-grip on Bucky’s hand, but had pulled it across the man’s body, twisting him, yet still managing to sneak himself in under his entire metal arm and was drooling onto Bucky’s t-shirt. His leg was bent back at an odd, starfish angle, caught underneath Tony’s.

“Fri? Did a wormhole open up above us?” Tony muttered.

“No boss.”

“Why the fuck are you waking me up?”

“Maria Hill is calling for Sergeant Barnes.”

“Bucky,” Tony corrected her, still asleep.

“Maria Hill is calling for Bucky. He’s an hour late for their debrief.”

“Fuck!” Bucky said, trying to disentangle himself. “Peter, let go. I’m late.”

“Be late,” Peter mumbled, in perfect imitation of Tony’s expression.

“I can’t. Let go, kid.”

“Ugh,” Peter reluctantly let go of Bucky’s hand and rolled over, pushing Tony onto his side and nestling himself against the man’s chest. He nuzzled against the arc reactor, and gave a sleepy chuckle. “I think I need tech to fall asleep.”

“Shut up and go back asleep, Pete. I had half a building dropped on me last night. I’m not getting up for anything less than a wormhole.”

“I’m going to need a lift to the compound.” Bucky tossed the duvet he’d knocked off the bed back onto it and over the sleeping couple.

“Fri?”

“On it boss. The helicopter will be waiting for you by the time you’ve finished getting ready, Bucky.”

“Thank you FRIDAY,” Bucky said as he headed for the bedroom door.

“Shut up, Bucky.”

~~~~~

“FUCK!”

No one was in the penthouse when the helicopter dropped Bucky off from yet another day of debrief. The sound came from below.

“GODDAMMIT DUM-E! Are you trying to… Go. You’re useless. Wait. Bring me the… no not that one the other… Yes. Thank you. You get to live one more day.”

“Tony?” Bucky called out.

“Oh hell! How hard can getting this damn thing to work be! You are annoying the hell out of me, machine. Goddammit I have a PhD in physics, one in engineering, and one in robotics. How the hell can I not manage to adjust one… OUCH! FUCK!”

Bucky followed the expletives to their source, down a long flight of spiral stairs into a workshop. He still didn’t see Tony, but he saw an entire array of his armor stretched along one wall. And he saw Peter, hunched over a table with things hovering above it that looked like the battle game Luke Skywalker was playing with Chewbacca.

“Peter?”

There wasn’t an answer. Peter’s hands kept moving through the light, making things grow and spin and change. He was mumbling to himself. Bucky walked over to the table and stood opposite.

“Peter?”

“Fuck!” Peter said, jumping in his chair, sending the strands of light that were following his fingers off into nothingness. “FRIDAY, take it back to just before I added the catalyst.” He took the earpieces out and smiled. “Bucky. You’re home early.”

Loud clanging sounds and more cursing came from a level below where they were.

“Tony, you are not doing percussive maintenance on a transmission electron microscope, are you?” Peter shouted.

“Of course not, babe. I would NEVER do something like that.”

“You could just call Lawrence Berkeley to finish the…”

“They brought the damn thing here and set it up. I can complete the adjustments of a goddamn electron microscope on my own!”

Peter sighed and rolled his eyes. “There are only FIVE others in the world and you are going to destroy the sixth!”

Bucky chuckled. “I’m gonna go start dinner because otherwise you two will never eat. How did you survive before I took up residence in Tony’s kitchen?”

“Menus,” Tony’s voice came from downstairs. “A whole drawer of them next to the fridge. This is New York. You want something, anything, ask FRIDAY. It appears.” Tony’s head appeared from the hole in the floor where the spiral staircase was. “Even a transmission electron microscope. Which is now adjusted, fully functional, and ready for me to work on the nanites..” The rest of Tony appeared.

Peter didn’t even try to hide the fact that he was drooling. Bucky at least hid it. He was a houseguest. It was inappropriate to drool over his host. Even if his host was wearing a tight-fitting black tank top, torn jeans, covered in sweat and dirt, and looking like sex on two legs.

Tony gave Peter a smirk. Peter smiled, got up from his workstation, and met Tony at the spiral stairs. He took Tony’s hand and led him up the next flight to the penthouse… and the bedroom… level.

“Sorry, pretty,” Tony said, not sounding sorry at all. “You’re on your own for dinner.”

#starker #winterironspider #WIS An Accord #Von writes stuff

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bethhxrmon · 5 years ago

Text

Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again Pt. 3

“All that I know is that I don’t know a thing” - “Dust and Ashes” from Natasha, Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812

Pairing: Peter Parker x Female OC

Word Count: 3.5k

Summary: The time heist is upon us!

Warnings: Endgame spoilers, angst, character death

A/N: Okay, so this is my last update before I go on my big vacation. I won’t be posting anything while I’m gone but I will hopefully keep writing. You can find the masterlist for this fic in my bio!

At some point in the morning, Harper was woken up not by the sun or by an alarm, but by a phone call. The ringing wouldn’t stop even though Harper would have insisted they deserved at least another five minutes of sleep. So they let the ringing go until it stopped. Only for it to start up again another couple minutes later.

“Hello?” Harper grumbled.

There was a chuckle on the other end, “Making time heist suits?”

“Tony? I swear if you’re calling me while I’m sleeping to tell me I’m being stupid I swear I’ll-”

“No, not that. But are you making time heist suits?” he asked again.

Harper rubbed their eyes and groaned, “Yes, I’m making time heist suits. And they’re going great no thanks to you.”

“Hey, if you stop overworking yourself and you wait a few hours, I could help you with your designing. How many suits have you made?”

They sighed, looking to the fabrics and threads and materials strewn around their room, “One… out of… out of enough.”

“Yep, hold tight. And don’t let anyone do anything too stupid, got it?”

“Look, you gotta tell me what’s up otherwise I’m gonna not know what to do,” Harper pointed out.

He sighed, “I figured out how to make it work. But I wanna tell everyone myself, but I also don’t want you working yourself too hard because I know you would.”

“Alright, fine, your secret’s safe with me,” Harper said, “Now can I let you go so I can get some more sleep?”

“Go for it, see you in a bit,” Tony told them, hanging up with a click.

And try as Harper might to get a few minutes of extra sleep, they simply couldn’t. Not when they knew Tony was coming, it was impossible to relax. Was it because of what they said the day before? Or was it something else that convinced him? It didn’t matter, all that mattered was that this could possibly work.

If Tony was there, then they were doing something right. He wouldn’t change his mind like this unless he figured something out. Something way more important than a faster way to make suits.

A few hours later and Scott was getting into the new and improved suit Harper made. Maybe this was the stupid thing Tony wanted them to stop, but they weren’t the type to make up a killer excuse. Besides, how bad could it be really? If Tony were really worried about someone getting hurt, he would have told them to tell everyone that he was coming.

Looking at the new suit that was similar in design, but instead used red and black as the main colors, Harper was satisfied. For only having a whole night to get it done, it was arguably some of their best work. Even better if it successfully shrank and did everything it was meant to.

Within a few moments, Bruce was already starting to send Scott into the quantum realm. Harper didn’t say anything, figuring it would just be that nothing happened. Then they could sit around in defeat for a little while.

Instead, they all found themselves face-to-face with a young Scott. Then an old Scott. Then a baby Scott. Finally, Scott was back to his regular self. Harper laughed despite themself. There was no way this was going to go well, that much was obvious to them.

Scott sniffed and cringed, “I don’t know if that was baby me, old me, or just… me.”

Hopefully Tony got in there soon, because Harper was starting to doubt any of them had any faith in this plan. If they hadn't known what was to come, they likely would have felt fairly hopeless themself. Instead, they knew exactly what was going to happen, so they just remained calm.

"What's got you so relaxed?" Natasha asked, standing next to them.

They shrugged, "I don't really know... I guess I just feel really good about this."

"So far it's all gone to shit," she pointed out.

Harper nodded, "Perhaps, but maybe it's supposed to be hard at first. Come on, Nat, it's time travel. Not exactly the easiest thing ever. Hell, I think getting Clint to come over here would be easier than that... too soon?"

"No, I tried talking to him. But I'm starting to feel like I was just fooling myself with all of this, you know?"

"Yeah... I get what you mean, but it's not the end of the world. We tried this thing out once, and we'll have to try it multiple times, but... but I really think we'll get everyone back. Then I'll have my best friend back and things can get better. Not great, but better."

Harper was so unbelievably tempted to tell her just why there was no need to worry about whether or not they would be able to do this. Tony wouldn't have called unless he had a massive breakthrough. Now, what caused it was what Harper wondered, but did it matter? Everyone was one step closer to coming back and that was all that they truly wanted in the end. Just for everything to go back to the way it was before. To get back what they had lost.

Perhaps that was just the thoughts of a grieving person, but they truly couldn't care less in that moment. They wanted their best friend back. Hell, Harper almost wanted their parents back. Just so they could see the look on their faces when they realized that stupid lizard they owned for all those years walked away with all their fortune. It was almost funny to think about in that moment. Not that it made everything better.

They sighed a little bit, "But what do I know? I'm the youngest one here and arguably the most inexperienced and-"

"We both know only one of those things are true. You're the youngest, but you're clever, Harper. Working with you these last five years has taught me a lot. And you've taught me a good amount, your age has absolutely nothing to do with that. Just trust me on this. I can tell you're gonna end up doing some really great things someday. Maybe you won't be an Avenger. So what? You don't need to have a triple black belt in martial arts to make a difference. You've proved that just last night."

That was when Steve ran in, holding his shield, Tony trailing not too far behind him, "Tony's helping us!"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm here. You guys have been going at all of this time travel stuff the wrong way and I'm gonna show you how to do it the right way. Just watch and learn. Harper, I have a way faster for you to do what you do best, let’s get going," Tony said, leading them back to his car.

Harper gave a skeptical look, "I'm gonna make the rest of the team's suits in the back of your car?"

"Not unless you want to. I just need your help with getting this bad boy inside to where you design. I'm assuming that's your room?" Tony asked.

They nodded, "Yeah, yeah, that's where I do that. What did you make?"

"You see, I was thinking about how annoyingly difficult it can be to get your suits ready. Fiveish summers ago, you took over a month to make a new suit for Annie. If I can just give you some function options and design options to help that as well as full control over colors, you're good to go and make suits by just pressing some buttons," Tony explained as he opened up the backseat of the car.

Inside was a rather large tube-like structure. It took both of them walking it in to make sure that it didn't just fall and break. There was no way Harper was letting this go. If they could get a robot to do all the hard stuff for them in a matter of a few hours, they could save so much time. With a working time travelling device, Harper knew that this was all going to work perfectly. They couldn't wait to tell Annie all of the crazy things they had gone through just to get everything to work like this. She would go crazy. Especially over the new suit maker that could do virtually whatever they wanted.

Once it was installed in their room and Tony was gone, Harper decided to play around with the functions just for a few moments.

"Pull up everything you have on White Swan," they said, wondering just what Tony had been doing the last five years.

Unsurprisingly, there were a few different concepts and designs. They smirked a little bit, knowing that Tony had to have thought of her almost as often as they had.

Then, out of another spark of curiosity, Harper cleared their throat, "Show me everything you have on Spider-Man."

Once again, there were several designs for different suits. There were more for Peter, but Harper knew that they had known each other for longer. And then, there was one more thing that Harper just couldn't help wondering about.

"What do you have for Harper Higgins?"

This time, there was just one, slightly unfinished, suit. It made them genuinely smile. Over all this time Tony had something planned. Realistically, it was for if things got really dangerous, but Harper couldn't help feeling a sense of pride at that. They had their own suit. It didn't do much, they didn't have any powers, but if something got really bad, they weren't going to be useless.

But Harper had a different job to take care of and they knew it.

They sighed a little bit, "Okay... let's get this thing started. Transfer files from Harper's flash drive in the hero folder."

As all the suits were making themselves, they took the chance to go down to the large meeting happening lower in a common area. Suits could take all the time they wanted, but unless they knew exactly where they were going to get those stones, then they couldn't get anything done.

Needless to say, Harper had never experienced anything to do with the infinity stones. They only knew the extent of their power, nothing more and nothing less. No one ever heard about the stones being somewhere in the west coast at any point in time. Not in a time that they were aware of, at least. They didn't know what they were doing here, but Natasha insisted they at least try their hand at researching.

Researching was something Harper had a decent shot in succeeding at. It was something they did with Annie all the time. That was the number one way to make sure she wasn't getting herself into some kind of huge trouble. So they looked around as the different Avengers started to get situated.

Harper sat next to Nebula and couldn't help smiling, "The gold and bronze looks really great!"

"You say that every time I see you," she commented.

The ginger shrugged, "Well, they always look great every time you see me. Not my fault."

"Actually, you were the one who created them, so it is completely your fault... but thank you. I think they look nice too."

Harper wanted to catch up with Nebula for a little while longer, but they couldn't since Thor was starting to go up to explain the Reality Stone to everyone else. A stone which seemed to have a deeply personal attachment with Thor. They noticed that he seemed a little bit different from before. Not in physical appearance, though that was for certain, but through his personality. The way he seemed to react to having to talk about Jane was rough to watch. They sort of hoped someone would just have him wait it out. He clearly wasn't in a good position to be helping out with anything. Either way, Harper listened to them talk about how everything seemed to work together. It was nice to know that they were just so close to getting it all to work.

Once given a chance, Harper went ahead and checked on all of the suits being made. They smiled to themself, loving how they were coming out and how they were coming out so quickly at that. This was more than they could have ever hoped to imagine. Soon enough everyone would be back. They could talk to Annie. A part of them wondered if she would look the same way she did when she disappeared or if she would come back looking older. They weren't sure which they would prefer. Hell, did it even matter? Harper was just elated at the idea of their best friend coming back after so many years of not having her around.

After several years of wanting to call her and tell her about the craziest thing that happened and not being able to. Ned was great, he really was, but they knew that he would rather talk to Peter every day than them. Not that Harper could blame him.

It would all sort itself out soon enough. They could just feel that all of this was going to work out somehow.

It took a few hours. Actually, it took several hours for all thuits to be done, but it was worth the wait. Especially when Harper knew that they would have taken so much longer had they been working all on their own. They couldn't help grinning at their now finished product, seeing that all of them were fresh off the press and ready for everyone to wear them.

Harper bounced down to everyone researching, "The suits are all done! You guys are gonna love them!"

"Great, Harper, that's great because we just finished figuring out how to divide everyone up," Bruce told them.

Harper nodded eagerly, "Yeah? So... what am I doing?"

"I'm gonna actually have you be the failsafe to this whole mission. You're in charge of making sure we actually come back or that nothing insane happens to the machine," he explained.

They nodded slowly, "Okay, how long are you guys gonna be gone for?"

"Just a minute, no longer. You're in charge of making sure it's only a minute. If it's any longer, we could jeopardize everything."

Harper laughed nervously, "Right, because that would be really bad... we'll be fine though, right?"

"Yeah, yeah, of course we will be! It's nothing to worry about. I just felt I should give you a job so you could be occupied."

With that, Harper got to watch their creations in action. All of the heroes looked amazing and Harper couldn't help wishing they were going. Except, they didn't know the first thing about handling an infinity stone. There was no way they were even qualified to monitor the time contraption. Yet, if anything went wrong, they were the one who was going to have to fix it. How that would happen, they had no idea. It seemed like Bruce was riding more on the idea of nothing going wrong. That was a fait assumption given that it would only be a minute. A minute wasn't that long, was it? No, there was no way it would be that long.

Yet, something told Harper they were going to be in for the longest wait of their life.

"You're gonna do great, Harper," Natasha told them with a grin.

Harper hugged her, "Yeah, you're totally right. And you'll all be back and we can bring back everyone else. It's perfect, we'll fix everything."

Still, that didn't feel too likely when they looked at everyone standing around in the circle. Harper didn't want to mess this up for everyone, but Bruce was the one who put in the commands for the machine. Maybe he really didn't think anything would happen to the machine. That was a relief.

Everyone looked at each other, going over their plan one last time. Who was going with who as well as where and when they would be heading.

"See you in a minute," Natasha said before everyone disappeared.

It was just Harper. Now, they had been alone in the compound before. Not often and not for very long, but it did happen. Maybe it shouldn't have worried them so much, but they couldn't help being worried about what was going to happen. What if something went wrong and they couldn't fix it? What if someone didn't come back? What if they all came back too soon? What if they all came back as babies? What if they were the reason everything went wrong?

That was silly to think, though. They couldn't possibly ruin this one mission. This one not so simple mission that would only be a minute. How long was a minute again? It was one minute. But one minute was sixty seconds. And sixty seconds were more milliseconds than Harper could recall. There was plenty of time to think of all the ways this could go wrong. What if someone didn't get a stone? No, they were all responsible. They would know what to do if anything came up. It was silly to worry about whether or not the Avengers could do this.

But they hadn't stopped Thanos. Half the universe was gone and they couldn't prevent it.

Except, they were all divided at that time. Now everyone was together. They would win this time around.

Finally, after what felt like far longer than a minute, Harper jumped, seeing everyone suddenly appear in front of them. At first, Harper really thought everyone was there.

Until Bruce spoke up for them, "Where's Nat?"

Natasha hadn't come back. Was this supposed to be some kind of joke? No, this wasn't a time to joke around about everything. It was real. Natasha was dead, and it was evidenced by the pained look on Clint's face. Someone she hadn't even had a chance to talk to. The only thing they had in common was that they missed Natasha for more reasons than one.

Everyone knew what happened. Not the specifics, but enough to know Natasha wouldn’t be coming back. Was this really the price to get everyone back? Harper was starting to wonder if it was worth it.

The rest of the team left to go outside, and Harper decided not to follow. Somehow, it just didn’t feel right to be there with everyone else. Not when they knew everyone had known Natasha so much longer than they had.

But that didn’t mean Natasha didn’t mean anything to them. Quite the opposite. Five years and they learned so much from her. Some things were really important and other things weren’t, but Natasha took them in when no one else had been able to do so. Gave them a job and friendship when everyone else decided to go their separate ways, not thinking about what little some people were left with.

Harper walked around the compound, knowing that everyone was outside. No one would have been mad if they showed up too, but they also didn’t feel like they would fit there.

Back in their room, one last suit was being finished up. Since it had been shown with all of Tony’s different ideas, Harper figured he wouldn’t mind them making it into a reality. Figuring out everything they wanted from it was tough, but they managed to work it out on their own. And if Natasha couldn’t be there anymore, they knew they could certainly try to be there.

“The suit looks nice,” Tony commented.

Harper jumped and turned around, “Can’t you knock?”

“Door was open. You coming?”

They raised an eyebrow, “Coming where?”

“We decided to go through with this snap. Natasha would’ve wanted it. I think she would’ve wanted you to be there.”

“Yes. I-I’ll be there, should I change? The blast is gonna be big, isn’t it?”

Tony nodded, “Yeah, I made that for a reason. I didn’t think it would be for this, but you get changed and I’ll work on getting the stones together.”

In less than an hour, Harper stood in a circle with everyone else with a green and white suit. This was finally happening. It was everything they wanted, wasn’t it? Yes, Harper knew that they wanted this. Annie would be back, everyone would be back. Natasha would have wanted them to enjoy life after all this.

Maybe they could go back to college or something.

Everyone was arguing over who should get to snap the gauntlet. Harper didn’t volunteer. No one would have let them, and they knew that.

“I’ll do it,” Bruce said, “It’s all gamma radiation.”

With that, everyone sort of murmured an agreement. Bruce had the gauntlet on and the power was causing him pain. Harper had the mask on for when the snap happened. Their heart started to beat rapidly and then there was the click of a snap.

The force of it gave a bit of an impact, but Harper didn’t care. If it had power, then they could see Annie again. Everyone was back, right?

Once they could get out of the room, Harper rushed out to the window. There were trees and birds that hadn’t been there before. Quickly, they pulled out their phone.

“Ned, Ned they’re coming back!” Harper exclaimed.

Before they could hear a response, their phone was thrown out of their hand and they were forced back by a massive blast.

Tag List (ask if you wanna be added!): @flushings-here @moonstruckholland @gaypanda @twilightparker @parrkerspeters @parkerpuffwrites @lionsfandomsandbearsohmy @ijustdontknowsometimes @lcy-thot @buzzinglee @dolphinsarecuteandstuff

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brideofkylosolo · 6 years ago

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I was inspired by @bad--bad--man post to write this lovely bit of smut between Adam Sackler and my OC Amelia Dawson (formerly Piper). Enjoy

Good Vibrations

Adam Sackler X Amelia Dawson(OC) – Girls

Amelia lost a bet and Adam knows what he’s going to make her do.

Warnings: NSFW, swearing.

“You’re fucking kidding me,” Amelia said as she held the pair of underwear in between her fingers. “Vibrating panties? Shit, Adam, this barely covers my ass.”

“But you’ll look so cute in it,” Adam purred at her. “Besides, you lost the bet so now you gotta take your punishment.”

Amelia groaned. “Fine,” she huffed as she went to go get dressed for dinner.

“Be sure to wear that red dress I like,” Adam called after her, a sly grin on his face.

Amelia mumbled a few choice words and flipped off her boyfriend. He knew was going to be in so much trouble by the end of the night by fuck it all, it was going to be so worth it.

An hour later, the couple was sitting at their table in a very fancy restaurant. Adam had already set the tiny vibrator in the pocket of the lacy underwear on the first setting and he could tell Amelia was already uncomfortable. She shifted in her seat as she looked at the menu in front of her, trying to act like she wasn’t affected by the pressure in the slightest. A bet was a bet and she was adult enough to deal with whatever she had to.

Adam just grinned to himself, reached into his pocket and pressed one of the buttons on the remote, turning the node up a notch.

Amelia jumped. She gave Adam a death glare as he snickered. She pursed her lips and continued to read the menu.

The waiter took their order and the two sat in silence. Adam reached across the table and took Amelia’s hand in his.

“You really look good tonight,” he said.

Amelia smiled and gently squeezed Adam’s hand. “Thank you. But can you please keep this damn thing on low? You’re gonna wear me out before the night is up if you keep upping it.”

“Maybe,” Adam said with a sly grin. “Depends on how good you are. It is kinda sexy to watch you squirm like that.”

Amelia rolled her eyes and took a drink of her water. Adam pressed the button again causing her to jump and spill some water on her red mini dress.

“Oh you are so lucky that was water and not wine,” Amelia seethed as she patted her top dry with her napkin. “And for fucks sake, turn that damn thing down. I swear if I come in my seat, you are going to be in so much trouble when we get home.”

Adam raised his eyebrows. “Oh am I?” He pressed the button again.

Amelia yelped and gripped the table. “You fucker,” she hissed under her breath. She balled her hands up, willing herself not to moan in pleasure. As good as it felt, she did not want to start moaning in the middle of one of Brooklyn’s fanciest restaurant.

“Problem?” Adam innocently asked.

“None at all,” she said as she gave Adam an icy stare. She adjusted herself as best she could to try and minimize the vibrations. She could already feel herself getting really wet which given her track record (especially with Adam) she knew it was not looking too good. Amelia took a deep breath and tried to divert her thoughts.

Adam just smirked at her and turned the vibration up. Amelia gasped.

“Fucking hell,” she wheezed. Jesus, how fucking high could this thing go?

Adam chuckled. “You sure you’re ok? You seem a little uncomfortable.”

Amelia cleared her throat. “Nope, I’m fine. No problem what so ever.” She may have lost the damn bet but she was not going to let Adam’s little game get to her. She decided to up the stakes.

She slipped her right foot out of her heels and began to massage Adam’s manhood with her foot. Now it was Adam’s turn to jump as Amelia’s manicured toes rubbed against his cock, making it stiffen in no time.

“You brat,” he moaned.

“Problem, pudding?” Amelia asked sweetly.

Adam grimaced. He reached into his pocket to press the button when Amelia paused, applying just enough pressure to make him uncomfortable.

“Press that button again, Adam Sackler and I’ll show you just how much of a brat I can really be,” Amelia said with an even yet slightly teasing tone.

“Fine,” Adam huffed and pulled his hand out of his pocket.

Amelia grinned and put her foot down. “Now behave and I may give you a treat after dinner.”

“You sure are evil,” Adam complained as he adjusted himself under the table.

Amelia just smiled as sweetly at him, batting her eyelashes. “And you love me that way.”

The waiter brought their food a short time later and they ate their meals.

“I need to use the ladies room,” Amelia said as she finished her meal. “Why don’t you meet me back there for some dessert once you take care of the bill?”

She stood up and kissed Adam’s cheek, brushing her fingers along Adam’s arm as she walked away. He quickly shoved some money into the check folder and walked as casually as he could to the bathrooms.

Adam knocked on the door to the women’s room. “Amelia? You in there?”

The door opened and Amelia yanked him into the single toilet room by his shirt, quickly locking the door behind them. She quickly pressed her lips to Adam’s and the two fell backwards against the wall.

“Fuck you’re so needy,” Adam chuckled as Amelia hurried to unbuckle his pants.

“Yeah well it’s your fucking fault, you meatball,” Amelia breathlessly said as she pulled his dick out and began stroking it, “getting me all wet like that. I ought to make you clean me up with your mouth.

“And feisty,” he said with a smirk.

Amelia just roughly kissed him.

Adam responded by hiking up Amelia’s skirt and rubbing his large fingers along the front of her very wet underwear, pushing the pulsing vibrator harder against Amelia’s lady bits. Amelia let out a moan.

Adam lifted her up and placed her on the edge of the counter, pulling off her panties. Adam ran his middle finger along her folds.

Amelia arched her back, her eyes closed in bliss. “Ahhh,” she hissed as Adam’s thumb brushed against her nub.

“Such a needy little slut,” Adam purred as he caressed Amelia’s pussy.

Amelia just bit her lip, her left hand gripping the fabric on the back of Adam’s shirt and her right the edge of the counter. She widened her legs as Adam continued to stroke her, carefully inserting a finger inside her.

“Oh fuck,” Amelia exclaimed as Adam slowly began to move his finger in and out.

“You like that?” Adam asked.

Amelia nodded as she gripped his shirt tighter. She looked up at Adam with sultry blue eyes. “I’d like your dick in me more.”

“Beg.”

“Please put your big, amazing cock inside me,” Amelia breathlessly pleaded, her gaze filled with lust.

Adam removed his fingers and placed the tip of his penis at Amelia’s entrance. With one quick motion, he pushed himself inside her.

Amelia hitched her breath as Adam’s massive length filled her, her pussy slowly adjusting to him. It always took her a few moments to adjust to him considering how large he was. She reached up with her right hand and threaded her fingers through Adam’s shoulder-length raven hair, gripping it. She widened her legs, allowing herself to take as much of Adam’s member as she could.

Adam slowly moved his hips as he wrapped his arms around Amelia, holding her tightly as he fucked her. “Fuck you feel so damn good,” he moaned as he pumped his hips.

“You like how I feel?” Amelia asked as she began to suck on Adam’s jawline. “Am I tight like a virgin?”

“Fuck yes,” Adam breathed as he increased the pace of his hips.

“Are you gonna use your big, magnificent cock to make me come?”

Adam nodded. “I’m gonna make you come so hard.”

Amelia leaned up and kissed Adam on the lips; he kissed her back. She gently nibbled on his lower lip, causing Adam to emit a groan. He bucked his hips harder.

“That’s it, fuck me harder,” Amelia whimpered in between kisses. “Oh fuck, harder! That’s it, come inside me.”

Adam grunted in desire as he pumped his hips. Amelia’s breathing started to become labored as she felt her orgasm building.

“Oh yes, yes, yes!” she moaned. “I’m almost there, almost there! Oh shit, I’m coming! I’m coming!”

Amelia’s body soon shuddered in a blissful orgasm, her canal subconsciously tightening around Adam’s cock as she let out a deep-throated moan.

Adam let out his own grunt and he came deep inside his girlfriend. He steadied himself against the counter, panting as he came down from the high of his own orgasm. He tenderly kissed Amelia’s neck and rested his forehead on her shoulder, nuzzling her. “Fuck, you’re amazing.”

“You’re not too bad yourself,” Amelia said with a smile as she kissed Adam’s temple and ran her fingers through his hair, trying to catch her breath.

Adam just chuckled and tickled her side. Amelia squealed in laughter. They reluctantly separated and cleaned themselves up as best they could.

“Lemme guess, I still gotta wear these fucking things home,” Amelia inquired as she held the soaked fabric of her underwear up.

“All the way,” Adam replied.

Amelia rolled her eyes and pulled them on. She adjusted her skirt and stood as tall as she could. “Alright, let’s get out of here before someone starts banging on the door.”

She unlocked the door and lead Adam out of the restaurant by the hand. The two of them hurried home to Amelia’s junior apartment as fast as they could, eager to continue the fun that they started in the restroom.

They soon arrived at her apartment and Amelia started to head to the bedroom, taking her heels off along the way. She had just taken one off when Adam quickly pressed the button on the vibrator remote, turning it up as high as it would go.

“FUCKING HELL!” Amelia groaned and fell to her knees, the pulsing in her panties hitting her like a freight train. “God fucking DAMNIT Adam, you jerk!”

She tried to stand up but collapsed again

“Damn, looks like you’ll have to crawl to the bed,” Adam commented with a smirk as Amelia squirmed.

Amelia pursed her lips together and slowly crawled on her hands and knees into her bedroom, the quaking in her lady bits making her legs feel like gelatin.

After what felt like an eternity, Amelia finally made it to the queen bed. She reached up to climb into it, turned her head to look back at Adam with lust filled eyes, and wiggled her ass with a playful grin.

“Oh, you little slut,” Adam said with a wild grin and rushed over, picking her up. He playfully tossed her on the bed onto her stomach. He ran his fingers up her bare legs and lifted her skirt up, baring her round ass.

“Wait, can you please take my dress off,” Amelia asked as Adam rubbed her backside. “I don’t want to get cum on it.”

Adam gently took off her red mini dress and draped it over the back of the desk chair. He pulled his shirt off as he returned to the bed where Amelia remained lying face down, her head facing Adam. She was squirming ever so slightly, eager for relief.

Adam removed his pants and straddled Amelia’s legs, his large hands traveling upwards to her ass. He gave it a gentle yet firm squeeze causing Amelia to let out a tiny whimper.

Adam slowly pulled off her panties leaving a trail of kisses on her skin. Amelia bit her lip as Adam’s mouth travel up her back, stopping at her left shoulder. He moved her mid-length dark hair away and began to suckle on her skin.

Amelia let out a soft moan as Adam’s tongue lapped her skin. As rough as he could be (not that she minded rough sex in the slightest) Adam could also be extremely gentle and loving whenever they had sex. It was easily one of the things she loved about him.

Adam gently lifted her hips a little and ran a finger along the folds of skin at her sex. Amelia nibbled on her bottom lip as she subconsciously grinded her hips to meet Adam’s movements.

“Fuck I can’t believe how wet you are,” Adam remarked as he increased his movements. “You are such a dirty little slut.”

“I can’t help it. You make me so fucking wet. Just thinking about your big cock inside me gets me all weak.”

“Say it,” Adam commanded her. “Tell me you want my big cock inside you.”

“I want your big, amazing cock inside me,” Amelia mewed. “I want you to raw me.”

Adam leaned down. “Say please,” he whispered in her left ear with a grin, continuing to mercilessly rub her pussy.

“Please, put your huge cock inside me. I want you to fuck me hard all night long. Please.”

Amelia let out a tiny gasp as Adam removed his fingers. He positioned the tip of his erection at Amelia’s entrance, dragging it up and down.

Amelia moaned as Adam toyed with her opening. “Fuck,” she hissed as she gripped the sheets.

Adam just chuckled. He did love making her squirm. Once he was done teasing Amelia, he pressed himself into her canal, slowly burying his massive length inside her.

“Oh fuck,” Amelia exclaimed as she took in Adam’s entire girth.

Adam hitched his breath and paused for a moment to savor the feeling of his cock in Amelia’s pussy, her warmth enveloping him. It felt absolutely wonderful.

Once he was sure Amelia was well adjusted, he began to rock his hips slowly, the moistness from Amelia’s inner lips making him slick.

“Oh yes, right there,” Amelia moaned as the tip of Adam’s shaft hit her g-spot, sending waves of bliss throughout her body, her fingers tightening their grip on the pillow under her head.

Adam slowly increased his pace. He leaned down so his chest was pressed against Amelia’s back, his hands holding Amelia’s and continued to rock his hips into Amelia’s ass, his lips sucking on Amelia’s earlobe.

Amelia moaned as her clit rubbed against the sheets aided by Adam’s weight pressing onto her back. She was in absolute heaven.

“That’s it, baby,” she mewled as Adam repeatedly pounded into her g-spot. “Oh God, your cock feels so amazing.”

“You like my, cock?” Adam asked.

“I LOVE your cock,” Amelia murmured.

“What do you love about my cock?”

“Everything. I love how it looks, how it tastes, how it feels when you fuck me with it. I love how you raw me with it and make me come.”

“Do you like it when I make you come?” Adam inquired, his hips subconsciously grinding faster.

“Yes,” Amelia moaned, the sensation in her groin growing by the second. “Oh fuck! Come on. Make me come, make me come so hard!”

Adam reached his right hand around and touched the nub at the top of her opening, rubbing it. Amelia arched her back. She let out a lustful scream.

“Oh yes,” she cried out. “Oh, Adam! Oh shit, I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m…”

Her body twitched as her orgasm erupted, sending her mind into a state of pure bliss. She soon collapsed, panting hard.

Adam pulled out and turned her onto her back. He gave himself a few vigorous pumps, soon shooting his cum on Amelia’s chest and stomach. She smeared some it with her finger and licked it off, looking at Adam seductively as she did. He smiled at her actions.

Adam caught his breath then got a damp washcloth from the bathroom. He wiped up the remnants of his semen from Amelia’s soft skin. He tossed the fabric to the floor once he was finished and snuggled next to her, his right arm hugging her close to him.

She rested her head on his shoulder, her finger idly caressing the skin of his arm, enjoying the moment. Even though she swore Adam could be an ass from time to time, he really was a sweetheart, when he wanted to be.

#adam sackler #adam snackler #hbo girls #fanfic #oc #amelia dawson

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rosaguard · 5 years ago

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AERIS GAINSBOROUGH RP PLOTTING CHEAT-SHEET!

Want new-and-exciting plots for your character? Long to reach out to more of your followers, but don’t know where to start? Fear not! Fill out this form and give your RP partners both present and future all the of juicy jumping off points they need to help you get your characters acquainted.

Be sure to tag the players whose characters YOU want more cues to interact with, and repost, don’t reblog! Feel free to add or remove sections as you see fit. Template here.

mun name: summer. ooc contact: feel free to message me through IMs or asks. discord is reserved for friends and more serious plotting.

who the heck is my muse anyway?

aeris gainsborough is one of the main protagonist from final fantasy vii and the last living cetra, an ancient race that is able to speak to the planet directly. when she was only an infant, aeris’ father, once the former head scientist at the shinra company, was murdered so that aeris and her mother, ifalna, could be captured. the first seven years of her life were spent as a prisoner in the shinra building so her and her powers could be studied closely for shinra’s own selfish gain. eventually, her mother was able fight her way out of the shinra building but was fatally wounded in the process and the two were eventually found on the steps of the sector five station by a widow named elmyra gainsborough. knowing that aeris was finally in safe hands, ifalna leaves her daughter with a heirloom, the holy materia, before she passes on to join the lifestream. in the years following her mother’s death and being adopted by elmyra, shinra would continue to track her movements but mostly let aeris be as she got older.

the use of mako, an energy source that was drained from the planet’s essence, would also rise in prominence during this time and various groups formed to oppose shinra’s methods. the most notable and active group were the eco-terrorists, AVALANCHE, and aeris’ life changes completely when one of its members nearly crashes on top of her in her church. a short walk to sector seven ends with aeris adventuring through a red-light district, midgar’s sewers, and finally kidnapped by the turks. feeling responsible for her capture, cloud, tifa, and barret break into the shinra building and are able to rescue the flower girl before hojo can use her and another innocent creature ( red xiii / nanaki ) for another one of his twisted experiments. once she is safe, the group’s attempt to escape fail and they’re locked away….only to be mysteriously freed where they discover that nearly everyone in the upper floors of the building murdered, including president shinra himself.

while the group mostly intended to save the planet by destroying shinra, aeris and the others soon learn that there is an even greater threat to the planet: sephiroth. due to be wanted in midgar, the ragtag group of strangers leave the city in order to search for the elusive former general in order to figure out his intentions. this moment jumpstarts aeris’ journey of self-discovery and learning more about her ancestors ⎯⎯⎯⎯ something that she had deliberately avoided until now. as she the group continues to travel the world, aeris slowly begins to not only understand her role as the last cetra but she finally learns of the true purpose of the heirloom her mother had given her all those years ago…

things you should know:

aeris does not die in my portrayal. my blog is canon divergent and is meant to explore how she ( and the story as a whole ) would change if she were to live. i’ve already written about what the differences between the events at the city of the ancients are in my blog canon.

the original game will always be my base. with the remake coming, there will more than likely be changes that i’m willing to adapt to but her personality will always remain faithful towards the OG in case the remake is not. i also pick and choose which parts of the compilation ( crisis core, advent children, etc. ) i wish to acknowledge.

aeris can ‘hear’ other planets too. she might not fully understand what it’s saying as its words might sound muffled or completely like gibberish to her but she can hear it.

my aeris is brown. when describing her in a thread, please don’t describe her skin as pale or white because it is not. she is the equivalent of a south asian woman visually, not western like nomura has stated she’s designed to be ( here is an example of her skin tone if it helps ).

what she’s been up to:

main verse: after being rescued from shinra, aerith quickly becomes a new member of the AVALANCHE crew once they decide to leave midgar. during this period, she and the others travel across the planet to hunt down sephiroth and uncover his true motivations for seeking the promised land. until aeris, along with tifa and barret, leave the main party to travel to the city of the ancients alone.

where to find her:

sector five church: aeris’ home away from home is an abandoned, dilapidated church in the sector five slums where she has managed to do the impossible: make flowers grow in the slums. children often visit her to play in her church or help tend to the flowers while she’s away.

the upper sectors: towering over the slums is the plate that holds the foundation of midgar. despite popular belief in the slums, people of various wealth live on the plate - from the middle class to the most wealthy. it is the flower girl’s main place of business and you’re most likely to find her selling flowers on loveless avenue in sector eight.

the highwind: despite the wounds earned during the clash at the city of the ancients, aeris remains with AVALANCHE until the end. once meteor is finally summoned by sephiroth and tifa and barret are rescued in junon, the others return to icicle inn to retrieve aeris. after cloud is found in mideel, aeris remains at the hospital to be treated by its doctor while tifa watches over their comatose leader. after cloud returns to his former self, she mostly stays on the airship whenever they leave to fight.

current plans:

kill sephiroth / save the planet: this is pretty straight forward to be honest.

desired interactions:

if the ff rpc wasn’t so d-e-a-d, i would mostly say canon interactions? i would really like to go more into her general feelings regarding well…everything post-stabbing. it would be a difficult time for her since she’s just been stabbed, she failed to protect the planet, etc. ( there’s also processing what happened at the temple of the ancients: tseng might be dead, we know he’s not, but she thinks so and cloud attacked her ).

more friendships / family / whatever. i’ve actually haven’t gotten into shipping until like…the past year? it’s been nice but also want to make sure all my interactions aren’t just romantic.

this section will be updated™ over time.

things that bother me:

receiving starters about aeris’s flowers or something related to flowers. while it might not seem like a big deal to you, imagine receiving 6 starters and four of them were about the same exact subject. it’s just…really boring so please don’t write about her flowers unless it’s something you really feel is unique enough.

having your muse ‘save’ aeris. unless we’ve discussed this and i’ve agreed to it happening, don’t write it for me. aeris is not weak. she does not need your muses’s protection unless she asks for it. in the original game, she states multiple times that she can handle herself and gets visibly annoyed when people underestimate her: cloud: you gotta be kidding. why do you want to put yourself in danger again? aeris: i’m used to it. cloud: used to it!? ……well, don’t know… getting help from a girl… aeris: a girl!! what do you mean by that!? you expect me to just sit by and listen, after hearing you say something like that!? // cloud: how could I ask you to go along when I knew it would be dangerous? aeris: are you done?

literally everything about crisis core!aeris. having her entire design be retconned because a guy told her he liked pink on her is bad. having him be the one to suggest she sell flowers when she literally lives in straight poverty is bad. having her spend four years writing letters to the equivalent of a high school crush is bad. having so much of her relationship with cloud taken and recycled for zack ( falling in her church, just one date, etc. ) is bad. having her, a person that is literally connect to the planet and has limit breaks that deal with nature itself, be scared of the sky is not only bad but stupid. none of this means that i hate zack as i would still be willing to write ze.rith if there’s chemistry but it would have to be heavily plotted and discussed.

tagged by: no one, i rewrote an old one i did.

tagging: anyone who wants to.

#❀ . ━ ❛ take your time ❪ ooc ❫ .

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fadedtoblue · 7 years ago

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Recap of the Defenders panel at SDCC, pt. 2 (aka just a beat by beat recap of episode 1...)

If you missed, it you can catch part 1 here. I’m sure you can find videos of the panel out now, but if you wanted my additional commentary, there you go, haha :).

I’ve been writing bits and pieces of this since Friday night, so needless to say, I’m starting to get a little fuzzy on the order of the scenes and specifics b/c I was in such a state of shock while watching (and I don’t get the benefit of rewatching it right away 10 times in a row, lol), but I’ll try to recollect as much as possible, as best I can. I’ll also share some of my opinions and theories at the very end.

Some brief, non-spoilery thoughts: This was definitely a set up episode for everything that is to come, so as much as I know everyone wants answers to certain questions, you’re just not going to get to them right away. The show doesn’t hesitate to pick up the threads left from each individual series though, so don’t expect it to be slow at all. They also did a lovely job making each Defenders’ scenes look and feel like their own shows, while still bringing them all together into a new kind of feel and style for The Defenders. I was impressed by that. Anyway, if you have any more general questions, feel free to send me an ask or note.

And now...I shouldn’t have to say this, but just in case...HUGE SPOILERS FOR THE FIRST EPISODE OF THE DEFENDERS UNDER THE CUT! (Apologies for any mistakes, I wrote too much and just want to get it posted rather than spending even more time editing!)

Opening scene:

Very first scene opens in Phnom Penh, Cambodia. An unnamed man is being chased by a woman in black wielding double katanas and shrouded in darkness down some sort of sewer-like corridor, exchanging blows, and the man is clearly getting overwhelmed in the fight. Before she can land the killing stroke, Danny appears out of the darkness and jumps into the fight to draw the woman away. Danny is holding his own, but the woman is clearly a superior fighter, and lands a nice slice across Danny’s tattoo; in his shock, the woman gets the opening she needs and stabs the mystery man to death. Danny tries to chase down the woman, who is running away, and manages to land one Iron fist-packed punch on her, which sends her flying, but she disappears as quickly as she appeared. When Danny returns to the man, Colleen is with him, and we see that he’s clearly dying. After a bit of back and forth, the man tells them that their fight is not there, it’s in New York. Very mysterious, and Danny is extremely frustrated. This has apparently been one of their biggest leads in their search for the Hand, and just like that, he’s gone. Also, it’s pretty obvious this woman is Elektra, and the most impressive thing was how much her fighting skills had supernaturally improved. A small hint at the power of the Black Sky! (Note: there’s really no hint as to who this guy could be, and I originally assumed maybe he was affiliated with the Hand, like Bakuto’s faction or something? But the end credits mention Shaft, who was announced as a character on the show, and plays a big role in the Chaste, so that’s an interesting tie in!)

Opening credit sequence:

New song and graphic styles, I really can’t recall now, but think the instrumental had a kind of synth-y vibe. The backgrounds are basically outlined, lit up, 3-D maps of New York, but they form each of the different characters in their main color palette. It’s super cool. The names on the credits also utilize an effect on certain letters to make it look like a subway line design (i.e. Charlie Cox’s name has a C in a circle). It’s a cute touch and really drives the whole “New York is the fifth Defender!” thing home.

Okay, this is where the order of these scenes gets a little iffy in my head, not to mention we do switch between the characters pretty often this episode...I think I’m fairly clear on the details themselves though! I’ll basically try to summarize everyone’s scenes in one go and then summarize the closing act on its own!

Jessica Jones:

Jessica is (surprise, surprise!) passed out drunk in an empty bar and gets rudely awakened by the bartender, who helpfully informs her that it’s morning and she should probably get out of his bar. Next, we see Trish is running across the street to keep her car from getting towed, but the cop is an ass and refuses to unhook it. Suddenly, we see the car get pulled off by an inexplainable force! Turns out it’s Jessica, who snarkily asks the cop if he has a problem, and Trish has trouble holding back a smile. Now we see Trish and Jessica walking down the street with coffee cups and fighting over Jessica’s life state post-Kilgrave, one that involves a lot of drinking and zero working, which greatly concerns Trish. Trish lets Jessica know that she’s been getting a lot of interest in her story and wants Jessica to take some interviews, if only to make some extra money while she’s not working. Trish says something to the affect of, only you (Jessica) could take a personal triumph and turn it into despair, or something like that. Jessica tries to tell her not to worry. Trish takes a sip of her coffee and nearly spits it out -- turns out Jesica had handed her coffee to Trish and Trish finds out the coffee has whiskey. This got a pretty good laugh during the screening :). Jessica is then shown walking down the hallway to her apartment -- the window is boarded up and clearly hasn’t been fixed since JJ S1. There are two people standing outside the door as she approaches, a woman who seems well-dressed and pulled together, and her teenage daughter, who is snarky and disdainful toward Jessica. The mom heard about what Jessica did and wants her to take a case -- her husband has been missing for a week -- and Jessica flat out says no. As the woman presses her case, Jessica goes into mocking mode, and suggests that everyone thinks THEIR partner would never do anything like this, but usually they’re always cheating. The daughter lobs a few snarky comments at Jessica and the mom, and finally the two of them leave. Jessica seems to have a moment of remorse as she’s opening the door, turns around, and calls out to them. The woman turns around hopefully but Jessica only says that she hopes they can find him soon. The inside of Jessica’s apartment is still absolutely trashed from all of the Luke / Kilgrave stuff from S1 -- part of the scenes are shot through the hole in the wall, which is hilarious. She gets a phone call, and someone using a voice scrambler warns her not to take the case. Dun dun dun! We know what that means!!

Later on, you see Jessica sitting at her desk with her laptop open, using her expert Googling skills to learn more about missing mystery man. At this point, Malcolm strolls in, which pisses Jessica off -- she’s already told him to stop coming into her apartment, he says she gave him a key, she counters that he made himself his own copy of the key, he helpfully clarifies because he was helping her get her locks changed, banter banter banter. I want to know that Malcolm has beefed up a lot for this show. It was noticeable lol. He immediately notices she’s on her computer and absolutely lights up, asking whether she’s taken on a case? She insists she hasn’t taken it...yet, and he’s basically celebrating that she’s totally taken the case and runs over to hover over her shoulder while she’s researching, which pisses her off. They talk briefly about the guy who’s missing, and Jessica mentions that the only reason why she’s even doing this is because she got a call from someone using a voice scrambler who doesn’t want her to look into it, but surely they covered their tracks and won’t want to be found. At which point Malcolm posits the possibility that the guy is actually an amateur, and what if she could track the call back? So Jessica pulls a Jessica and calls the operator, pretending that she received a call from her grandfather who is missing from dementia and gets the number. They find the address the number is connected to, which Malcolm immediately recognizes as a super shady neighborhood that people generally used to get off the grid to use drugs, etc.

Jessica shows up at the building Malcolm helped her identify. Inside, it looks and sounds sketchy as hell -- flickering lights, sounds of people fighting and/or having sex, a real ball. She heads up the stairs to the specific apartment she seems to have identified as the exact location of the call. She bangs on the door, telling him (I assume she thinks it’s James -- the husband -- hiding out in there) that the landlord / someone already told her he’s inside. After getting no response, she does her patented doorknob breaking move (the scene we saw in the first trailer) and goes in. There’s a TV on, but the place is otherwise dim and abandoned. She slowly walks through, peeking into the bedroom and rounding back out to the living area. She spots some boxes, opens one up and inside is either weapons or explosives (I’m leaning toward the latter) -- the camera paused on it for a quick few seconds and I didn’t absorb the writing as thoroughly as I’d like, but it’s obviously something really bad.

Luke Cage:

We start out with the scene of him walking down the jail corridor, while the inmates cheer him on. It’s not super clear in the beginning, but we soon discover that Luke had his charges cleared, thanks to the excellent lawyering provided by one MR. FOGGY NELSON, who is clean shaven and sporting a very short haircut (gotta look the part at those big firms I guess!). Luke asks for Claire, but Foggy tells him only lawyers are allowed. Luke decides it’s time to hop on a bus and get back to New York ASAP. Before he leaves, Foggy gives him his business card and lets him know he can always reach out if he ever needs help starting over. Luke assures him he doesn’t need to start over, just need to move forward. Foggy helpfully lets him know that most people call him Foggy, to which Luke quips: “And you let them?” which earns a great laugh from the room :).

Now you see Luke on his bus ride back to NYC, and this scene is basically just the same scene in the first trailer with him looking out the window and seeing things like Pop’s barbershop as he drives by. He gets off the bus (which is plastered with a New Harlem Renaissance ad, so you can assume Mariah is still going at it) somewhere in Harlem and as the camera pans out, you see Ms. Claire Temple looking like her damn fine self, leaning against the wall, waiting for his return. They end up back at her apartment and immediately rock that cup of coffee, like wow, it was...physical hahaha. Think overturning furniture, going at it all over the place, I’ll admit to being slightly concerned for Claire b/c damn Luke is a strong guy, but she seemed like she was having a good time lol. In the trailer I thought they were leaning against a headboard - nope, it’s a table turned over on its side on the floor, haha. They have a nice chat afterwards, mostly focusing on what Luke might do now that he’s back in New York. He calls Claire out a little bit, saying that he knows she kept some things from him in the letters they exchanged while he was away. She confesses a lot of things happened and are still going on in the city, and she’s concerned about Luke trying to be a hero (cue the dialogue from trailer #1). At this point, there’s a knock on the door, and it’s...Misty! She’s bemused to see Luke at Claire’s place so quickly after being let out, and asks if he can take a walk down the street with her.

They exchange some small talk, apparently Misty has been made head of some sort of city-wide initiative, which is probably how they’ll take her out of Harlem and into some of the other neighborhoods in the Netflix Marvel world. They end up at a burnt out car that’s decorated with flowers, and Misty explains: there’s been a rash of somewhat unexplained deaths that bear striking similarities -- all young men from Harlem, who were recently employed at some sort of mystery job, moved their moms out of Harlem and into nice houses in what I presume is a more gentrified neighborhood of New York, but end up dead under mysterious circumstances. It could be drug running or it could be something more nefarious -- Misty doesn’t know. Luke wants to help, which Misty reacts to with skepticism (she makes a “Really? I’m going to send the guy who just got out of lockup?” kind of joke) but she mentions that this particular memorial is actually for the brother of Candace Miller, who died in LC S1. Apparently she had two brothers, so Misty tasks Luke to track down the last brother, who she last heard wasn’t exactly on the right side of the law, and talk some sense into him before the mother of that family loses her last child.

Luke heads over to the apartment building of the third brother, another interior with flashing lights, except this time with loud music. Luke encounters a group of guys in front of an apartment and asks them where he can find “insert brother’s name here b/c I honestly can’t remember it out” -- they’re about to snap at him for interrupting them and realize it’s Luke Cage, at which points their jaws snap shut and they direct him one floor up. Luke lets himself into the apartment, sees the brother, and walks up to an expensive looking speaker set up to turn down / off the music. The brother angrily exclaims, thinking that his friends are messing with his equipment and is surprised to see it’s Luke. Luke says he’s here to pay his respects, and the two have a conversation in which the brother pretty much stubbornly refuses to listen or provide any information on his brother who just died. Luke notices that for a kid between jobs, he seems to have some pretty nice things (the music / speaker system, spacious apartment, really nice shoe collection) and asks if he might have taken on the same job his brother had before he died. The boy is silent, Luke says something wise, and then leaves.

Matt Murdock:

His scene opens in his apartment, focused on some sort of Braille printer? Matt is practicing an argument for an upcoming case as the pages print off. Suddenly, he catches on the sound of someone getting mugged and you see him going into Daredevil mode and hearing the situation unfold -- Matt is visibly tensing and literally willing his body not to rush off. As he’s listening, he also hears the police approaching and containing the situation. He untenses his body and resumes practicing his speech. At this point, we switch immediately to the courtroom, where Matt is grilling a man on the stand. I couldn’t exactly follow what the incident was and what product the man’s company made, but whatever it was, it was responsible for injuring a young boy, putting him in a wheelchair. Matt is really in his element and manages to pin the executive on the stand into a corner and goes in for the kill. Then we are suddenly outside the courtroom, actually in the same courthouse we were in for the Castle trial, and the news media is there -- Matt won the case and the family of the boy who was injured were awarded $11 mil. The parents of the boy walk ahead to talk to the reporters, while the boy, sitting in the wheelchair, hangs back. Matt has a really lovely scene here when he steps back to talk to the boy, who is clearly having a hard time adjusting to his new circumstances, and gives him a Matt Murdock pep talk about handling adversity and very specifically, coming to terms with a life changing injury (wish I could share more of what he says, but I just can’t remember it and don’t want to butcher it!! It was good though). It does seem to get through to the kid, who then goes back to join his family during their little hallway press conference.

Matt turns around, and we see Karen, who was in the courtroom covering the case for the Bulletin. Karen congratulates Matt on winning the case and is complimentary toward him and what he did in the room. I think Matt also mentions Karen’s work as a journalist and she does her aw shucks Karen thing. She mentions that she needs a quote from him for the story she’s writing, and suggests that maybe they do it over a drink or a bite to eat, which Matt seems surprised at, but agrees to. (This suggests to me that they really haven’t spoken much, since the end of S2 reveal, though they’ve likely crossed paths politely since then.)

Matt and Karen are sitting in a diner, and while the atmosphere is a little awkward, it’s still friendly. They exchange some small talk about their jobs -- Karen asks Matt about his lawyering and I think this is where Matt reveals he’s doing pro bono work, although it’s possible he mentions it at the courthouse, and Karen talks about how she really feels like this is what she’s meant to do. She lowers her voice a bit and asks Matt whether he’s missed being Daredevil. He basically lies and says no. That he doesn’t regret it, but he doesn’t miss it either. Karen seems to be satisfied with that response. She has a whole line about how she really feels like they needed some time to figure themselves out and it sounds like she believes that both her and Matt are in better places now than they were before. She mentions she’s been covering the police beat and she really thinks the police are doing a good job handling the crime, at which Matt cracks a bit of a cynical smile, so maybe he actually did it...he was the hero this city needed and now they don’t need him anymore. But she thinks that right now the city needs more of Matt Murdock, and btw, she still needs that quote, and that’s just about how the scene ends. Very friendly.

EDIT!!! Didn’t realize a huge chunk of Matt’s section was missing from this recap. Damn it Tumblr, you’ve eaten parts of this post like 5 times already. This re-recap will be a bit of a rush job, sorry! Anyway, after the meeting with Karen, Matt goes to find Father Lanthom for confession. He says it’s been three days since his last confession, which suggests to me that he’s been going consistently, and often. He initially brings up the meeting with Karen, and talks about feeling bad about lying to her about not missing being Daredevil. In order to remain transparent, I will say he did use language to refer to Karen as someone he loves, but the impression didn’t come off as romantic, but more out of friendship / deeply caring for her. I really do believe he is sincere in wanting to become friends again. And nothing about the diner meeting or the conversation here feels like it’s moving toward anything more than trust building, which Matt already kind of fails at since he lies to her face there. Anyway, this part of the conversation didn’t last for very long since Lanthom takes the temperature on the situation and immediately gets to the heart of what’s bothering Matt, which I won’t bother recapping b/c you can see it in the scene below:

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Danny Rand:

Since Danny was such a big part of the opening scene, he doesn’t get a traditional intro scene like the rest of the defenders in the first act of the episode, so after we’ve touched base with all of the Defenders, we bounce back into his story and find him flying back to New York on his jet with Colleen. It starts with him, alone in the bathroom, and this is where we get that dramatic scene of him wiping the mirror from the trailer. There’s little bit of editing trickery here, as he notices some weird blood splatters on the wall behind him, and he goes from the mirror to tearing off a piece of the wall? Or pushing aside some sort of curtain? And we segue seamlessly into Danny walking into some sort of eerie, abandoned hallway, all torn and tattered. We quickly notice the hallway floor is covered in bloody bodies, bodies of the dead K’un Lun monks. He passes through another doorway and there’s a whole group of them, standing in formation, covered in blood and staring down at him accusingly. He is clearly overwhelmed and confused, and turns around, only to see himself, dressed in robes and looking serious. He says something to real Danny (again, sorry about being spotty on the actually lines), which prompts real Danny to basically breakdown screaming. At this point we hear Colleen in the background, shaking him awake from what’s obviously a nightmare. She tries to get him to talk about the screaming, which he tries to shrug off as turbulence terrors, but she’s not buying it. They talk about the man they hunted down in Cambodia and it’s clear that he’s feeling guilty about his death, and is still feeling guilty about the not being at K’un Lun to protect his city. Colleen insists that it’s not his fault, but Danny remains unconvinced. Danny and Colleen return to the city and are taking a helicopter ride over the city. They’re holding hands. She’s marveling at the view and they’re discussing home -- New York is basically Colleen’s home but for Danny, even though he grew up here, he still doesn’t know if this is his home.

Alexandra:

Our introduction to Sigourney’s antagonist Alexandra lacks any bombast or fanfare, but you definitely feel...unsettled in a lot of her scenes. We first see her in some sort of nondescript building, and she’s waiting for an appointment, looking classy af. A person comes up and leads her to a really bare, empty room, and asks Alexandra to change into a patient’s gown. The nurse brings her out of the room and to a larger room with a CAT scan machine. The doctor greets her warmly but has bad news for her, which she seems to be expecting -- her red? white? blood cell count is precipitously low and her body’s organs are starting to shut down. She asks what the doctor is going to do about it, and he says there isn’t anything they can really do, which is an answer that clearly doesn’t satisfy her (“That’s not what I asked.”). When she asks how long she has, he guesstimates around a few months.

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Edit: Embedded the released preview clip that corresponds with the below scene :)

We see Alexandra again in what I assume is Central Park (sorry guys, I don’t know NY!), sitting on a bench and feeding the pigeons. Again, she looks amazing. Madame Gao (woohoo!) comes into frame and says she thought she’d find her here, it’s always been her favorite spot. Alexandra muses about how surprised she is this place hasn’t already been razed to the ground and replaced with high rise buildings, she remembers when it used to be forest. She starts into a mini history lesson about New York City and how the Dutch bought it for 24 dollars -- then she drops a burn -- it was 24 dollars too much. She delivers it with such classy disdain, I love it. There’s also a hint of “Hey I was here when this happened” which tracks nicely with the hints Gao has given about her longevity / immortality...clearly Alexandra has quite a history herself. Anyway, they move onto discussion of more important things, like nefarious evil plans? Madame Gao updates Alexandra about some part of this plan and says in a few months they should be ready to make their move. Alexandra quickly shuts this down, which seems to take Madame Gao by surprise. Instead, Alexandra wants to make her move now, which Gao tries to talk her out of -- she doesn’t think it’s a good idea, they still need more time, etc etc -- but knowing what we know about Alexandra’s updated life expectancy, she obviously can’t afford to wait to make her move. At the very end of this scene, Alexandra quite flippantly tosses her bag of bird seed at Gao and orders her to finish feeding the birds. So there’s a really obvious and interesting power dynamic here...whoever Alexandra is, she’s quite used to calling the shots!

The last scene we have with Alexandra takes place after all of the scenes from the other characters, and on some sort of fancy rooftop -- it’s the one from the trailer, and I think it might be the same one Gao met with Fisk in S1? I’m not 100%. Gao lets her know that things have begun, which seems to please Alexandra greatly. And at this point, we start to see what exactly that plan is.

Closing scene:

It starts out with a rumble, almost like mild earthquake tremors. Matt is back at home after his confession with Lanthom, and his apartment is bathed in red. When the shaking starts, he freezes almost seems like he’s not sure what to do. The shaking intensifies, dust and debris flying off, and he seems actually scared at this point, kind of crouching over and covering his head. Jessica, in the mystery apartment she’s tracked down, is also looking around in a mixture of confusion, fear, and WTF as everything shakes around her. In the streets, you see huge tremors and rows of cars being propelled upwards with some sort of strange force before slamming back into the ground. At the memorial for Candace’s mother, you see her standing outside of the car and looking around in shock as the city shakes around her. A streetlamp breaks and starts to fall, but Luke appears and immediately bears the weight of the falling lamp and pushes it back up and away from her. Danny and Colleen have just gotten off the helicopter, unaware of what’s going on on the ground, but in just a few moments as they walk off the landing pad, the ground cracks beneath them and between them.

As everything crumbles outside, Alexandra calmly turns from the edge of the rooftop and walks over to Elektra in the black cloak, and says that iconic line, “It’s just a city. You’ll get used to watching them fall.”

And basically while the city is falling apart and all of our heroes are like WTF, the episode ends. I know, we were really disappointed lol.

Interesting things of note:

There’s a little scene transition device they employed, at least for the first episode, as you go into a scene for a specific character -- it was sort of a quick-cut style with visual snippets and ambient sounds and slightly colorized for each Defender. I haven’t watched Jessica Jones since it first aired, but it reminded me of that show. Not too surprising because the director for the first 2 episodes of Defenders is the same director who did JJ!

I wrote the heading for this section 2 days ago so while I may have had interesting thoughts then, I certainly don’t now, sorry lol!

#the defenders #marvel's the defenders #the defenders panel #sdcc 2017 #the defenders spoilers #the defenders 1x01 #matt murdock #elektra natchios #jessica jones #luke cage #danny rand #colleen wing #madame gao #my thoughts #text #p talks about stuff #mine

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