#he said that composing for them is “like walking in cement shoes”

[inspired-lesson-plans]

Social Studies, grades K-2, Connecting with History

Do Now:

Turn and talk.

What do you think it was like to be a kid 500 years ago? How would it be different than being a kid today?

Class Discussion:

Discuss their thoughts from the Do Now, then transition into showing the doodles provided by @bemusedlybespectacled without providing any context. Ask them when they think those drawings were done and how they can tell. In the former, note that the drawing is done with a stylus instead of a pencil, and in the latter have the students observe that there are castles, horses, and bows and arrows.

Direct Instruction:

Explain to students that historians only know about what happened in the past because of what people in the past left behind. Old books and scrolls tell us what they used to believe, or about the lives of important people. Old weapons and tools show us how good their technology was. For example, show the stone age spears vs the 18th century pole arms.

Drawings of plants and animals show us what animals used to live there and what they looked like. For example, the Lascaux cave paintings in France

Or the painting of watermelons from 17th century Europe

Guided Learning:

Ask students to turn and talk to discuss the following question.

What will people in the far-off future know about us from what we are leaving behind right now?

Regroup and hold another class discussion about what current humans are going to leave behind for people in the future to know about how we live.

Then, ask one last question.

What do you want people in the far-off future to know about your life?

Higher Order Learning:

Give students a doodle book to fill out. On every page, they should draw something about their lives or the world around them so that historians in the far-off future can study it and learn about the world of 2025. You may give a few examples as well as model a doodle in your own notebook. And, just like the Italian boy from the 1400s, they are encouraged to doodle in this book during school (unless they need to pay attention).

I was reading one of my childhood diaries the other day and there was a whole paragraph saying how hopeful I was that my writing will help the archeologists in the far future. Then it proceeded to describe my lunch that day and how my dog was probably secretly able to talk. 

[wormstacheangel]

When Dean finally rescued Cas from the empty, he expected a happy reunion. He envisioned a strong hug like the first time he had escaped. He expected a long-awaited kiss and repeated confessions that weren’t said with sorrow or heartache. He expected to find the same Cas that was taken, but that would have been too easy.

Cas was left awake, alone, and in complete darkness for months on end.

So when Dean went into the empty, ready to wake up the love of his life, he found Cas curled in on himself—staring blankly out into the void of nothingness. He whispered something so softly and quickly that Dean couldn’t pick up on the actual words, but it sounded familiar. Almost like he was humming a song.

Dean tried to get him to stand up on his own, but he quickly realized that Cas wasn’t even looking at him. His gaze was distant, seeing something Dean can’t even imagine. He then noticed the white film over his eyes dimmed the once bright blue.

His fingertips gently traced over the skin he had only dreamt of touching for months before he took a deep, shaky breath to steady himself. With that slight pause, Dean used whatever desperate strength he had and dragged Cas back to the portal.

Back home.

As they got closer, the light of the portal seemed to startle Cas, and he started to shove Dean away. Dean had to put Cas down so he could take his green jacket off and place it over Cas’s head to calm him before he slowly continued to walk through the portal and into the bunker’s library where Jack, Rowena, Eileen, and Sam were waiting for them.

When they walked through, Dean quickly shushed them as he fell to his knees with Cas still in his arms, hidden under the jacket, and covering his ears at the sudden loud voices surrounding them.

Dean looked around at his family, all sharing the same worried glances knowing they were on the same page. Cas’s welcome home party would be pushed back until further notice.

Cas didn’t cry. His expression didn’t change much at all. All Cas did was sit or lay on Dean’s bed with the lights off. All but the desk light. It was an old lightbulb, so the light wasn’t a bright white like the rest of the place. Instead, it illuminated a soft golden glow against the wall.

Cas squinted at it at first, blinking so inhumanly at it, until all Cas did was stare at it. Whenever Dean made any move to turn it off or even just get near the lamp, Cas made a little whine at the back of his throat.

Little noises were the most Dean can get out of Cas. At least it brought him a little relief. It meant Cas could see him at that moment.

Cas still did that rapid talking or singing whenever it was a little bit too quiet. It made Dean wonder if Cas knew he was out of the Empty. Especially during those times when he would stare right past him, unblinking with cold eyes.

It was only the end of the second week when Dean broke down.

[continue under the cut or on AO3]

He didn’t mean to. He was trying so damn hard to keep it together, especially in front of Cas, but one night he just lost it. He can blame the lack of booze in his system, or as he wants, he can blame Sam, who came up to him about a stupid case. It pissed him off more than it should have. The fact that Sam even believed for a second that he would leave the bunker while Cas was like-well the way he was, just gave him enough of an excuse to raise his voice at someone.

Eileen had to step in and tell him to cool off.

Dean stormed off without a glance back and went to his room. He changed into his pajamas and climbed into bed beside Cas. He laid on his stomach as he wrapped one arm over the top of Cas’s waist, scooting close enough so that he could rest his head on Cas’s shoulder. He then opened his mouth to wish him goodnight just like every night, but something in Dean just broke.

He felt the pressure rise up his throat as he tried to hide his face into the familiar body beside him, but the sob still came.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry it took me so long to go get you. Fuck, Cas, please.” Dean took a shaky breath, sniffling as he reached to hold Cas’s hand closer to him. “We missed- I...I missed you. I missed you so much, Cas.” Dean brought Cas’s hand up to his lips and kissed the knuckles before letting the hand rest by his head. His eyes closed as he sighs, “I love you. So come back to me, okay?"

The only response Dean got was a squeeze of the hand, which was enough hope for the future, and more than Dean could have ever asked for at that moment.

As the days went on, Cas didn’t change. Literally and figuratively. He was still an angel, so there was no need for him to shower or brush his teeth, but Dean swore that Cas’s facial hair was growing, so he liked shaving him at least once a week. Cas seemed to like it by the humming noise he made.

They did learn a couple of things as the days went on.

One, peace and quiet are not what they strive for.

It only brought Cas anxiety, and his humming or singing became much louder and more desperate. They fixed that problem with a Bluetooth speaker constantly playing music in the background, a playlist Jack made mixed in with a playlist Jack helped Dean make. It made the humming stop, and Cas started to roll over in bed. He even sat back against the headboard with his eyes closed a few times.

A month after Cas got back, Dean's phone died in the middle of the night, and the silence must have gotten to him. He covered his ears while he started muttering to himself again. Dean woke up and pulled Cas to his chest while softly sing to him in his still half-asleep phase. He didn’t know why that was his first instinct, but he went along with it cause it started to calm Cas down. Then, Cas held him back for the first time—tucking his head right under Dean's jaw and relaxing.

Dean tried not to stiffen at the touch; if he were honest with himself, he would admit he was trying not to cry because he was busy singing. Busy, not wanting to disrupt this moment.

That night Dean sang all night long until Jack checked on them in the early hours and connected his phone.

Two, always have a light source on.

The lamp was the first one they had. Cas constantly wanted it on, but it bothered Dean all the time when he wanted to sleep. So they bought a cool starlight projector, Sam’s idea, that kept the light on the cement ceiling and not on Dean’s face. Cas seemed to enjoy it as he laid on his back, watching it all night, letting Dean curl up on his side as he slept through the night.

Three, never leave Cas alone.

Nobody wanted to leave Cas alone for more than a minute if they could help it. So they made plans to keep him company at all hours of the day. Of course, they weren’t crowding him. They all came in one by one, except for Dean, who would say, “This is my room. I get to come and go as I damn well please.”

Sam liked to sit by Cas's side and talk nerd like they usually would while cleaning his guns or doing research to help another hunter. He would even pause during the one-way conversation to give Cas some time to answer or try to imagine what Cas would say in that situation. Sam was always calm, wanting to keep it as normal as possible while Cas just stared at him, sometimes his eyebrows knitted together, and Dean had to excuse himself as he felt his chest tighten up.

Eileen sat by his side and watched shows she liked while she talked to Cas out loud and signed so he could hear her voice. Even then, she didn’t talk much. Instead, she let the laptop do the talking as she pets Cas’s hair while sitting on the chair by the bed.

Jack came in the most next to Dean. He liked reading to him or talking about how his skills as the new God have improved thanks to Amara.

"Dad, I hope you'll be proud of me." Jack once whispered to Cas, who was having a bad day, checking out more than usual as he stared off into the distance. Eyes wide and almost screaming.

It was almost the end of the second month when another big mile-stone happened.

Jack was lying in bed with Cas while Dean was at his desk, cleaning his guns obsessively again. Jack was reading him a book he bought during his recent trip to the bookstore with Eileen, it was a Star Wars story.

Jack was getting into the book as he read slower but louder during a big fight scene. He got so excited that he even jumped up and looked back at Cas, "Did you hear that, Dad? He won!"

Cas smiled back at him- a genuine smile- and Dean almost dropped the piece of metal in his hand while Jack froze, his shoulders tightening up while he scrunched up his lips as if trying to hold back his cry.

Instead, he quietly composed himself as he asked in a shaky voice, "You want me to read the rest?"

Cas only blinked at him, keeping the slight smile, and Jack took it as a yes. Jack sat beside him again with a big smile plastered on his face, wiping his eyes every other word, as he rested his head on Cas's shoulder to continue reading. Dean didn’t miss when Cas tilted his head down to rest his cheek on Jack’s hair.

He had to excuse himself again.

After that day, Cas slowly started to open up a little more.

Once Dean woke up with Cas out of bed. Dean was already in full panic mode, his shoes on the wrong feet and jacket inside out as he called out for Sam.

Then just as quick as the panic came, relief flooded him when he found Cas in the kitchen trying to make coffee. He turned towards Dean and gave him the smallest of smiles, but it filled Dean with such solace that he just dragged himself to Cas’s space. Dean held his arms open to press Cas into him, and without a second thought, Cas fell right into him as if it was an everyday normal occurrence.

That was the start of Cas now being up and around the bunker. It was like when a baby starts crawling, everyone keeping tabs on the baby’s first steps, except this baby was an eon old celestial being.

The library, Dean’s room, the Dean-cave, and the kitchen were Cas’s favorite places just to sit. He always had Dean’s headphones on, softly playing music, just in case it went quiet, and it took a while for him to be able to walk around without those.

It was the sixth month when Cas wished Dean a goodnight first and then added, “I love you, Dean.”

Dean fought the lump in his throat, but Cas instantly pulled him in, his arms wrapped securely around him. He had so much he wanted to say to Cas just to hear his voice again, anything to listen to his voice again, but instead, he kisses Cas’s chest before saying, “I love you, too.”

Days came and went. Sometimes it seemed like Cas was getting better as he talked a little more, but then those days would come when he would just stare off into the stars on their ceiling. Not moving an inch or bothering to fake breath like he liked. Those days the music was a little louder, and Cas held on to Dean a little tighter.

“I don’t want to go back. Please,” Cas pleaded as he stared wide-eyed at the darkness in the corner of their room. As if he was having a nightmare with his eyes wide open. “Please don’t make me…I-I don’t want to be in the dark again!”

Dean took Cas’s face in between his hands to hold his gaze. Only talking when he knew Cas was seeing him. “It’s okay, Cas. I got you. Nobody’s taking you away from me ever again.”

“Promise?” Dean felt Cas’s grip at his shoulder, holding him with desperation.

“Promise.”

That’s how Cas became human.

The nightmares have him waking up screaming some days, but at least Cas knew he was safe from the Empty’s clutches.

He was going to live his human life being loved and taken care of, and Dean was happy to say he felt Cas was doing the same for him.

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Real Life Tasks With Ransom Drysdale

An Advent Calendar of 24 Normal Human Tasks As Performed By A Huge Man Baby

Day Five: Anyone Can Change A Tire, Right? 

Warnings: Bad Language Words, Hint of Smut. 

Pairing: Ransom x Reader

A/N: We are having so much fun giving Ransom everyday tasks. 🤣 The poor Man Child is really hopeless, but he is giving it his best effort. Just wait till you all see what else @what-is-your-plan-today​, @jennmurawski13​ and I have planned for you all. 

Happy Reading! 

Series Masterlist

“Ransom, I'm running to the store. Do you need anything not on my list?” You call out while you're grabbing the keys off the hook near the door, when Ransom pops from around the corner having heard his name. 

“Yea, cookies. I'm all out.” He said, wiping his hand dry on a dish towel, just finishing up with cleaning up from a light lunch you had made the two of you earlier. 

You narrow your eyes at him, knowing exactly what he wanted, the sweet buttery cookies of his that was your man's sweet tooth addiction, Biscoff. “You are sure we don't have any in the pantry Ransom? Because I swore I ordered some just last week off Amazon.” 

“Yea, last week Y/N. That was days ago, those are gone.” he tossed the towel over his shoulder, hands falling to hips as his brows shot up at the absurdity of your statement. Last week, cookies never lasted that long with him.”I'm sure it's like… I'm experiencing sympathy pregnancy cravings.”  

You looked at him like he was being ridiculous, which he was. “Sympathy pregnancy cravings? Bullshit, you just never been told no. Fine fine, you're like a damn dog with a bone for those things.” You shake your head while heading to the garage muttering to yourself ‘Pregnancy symptoms my ass, why couldn't he have had morning sickness like I did.” 

“Like a dog with those and you Princess.” He retorts with a smirk when you look over your shoulder at him, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively and you close the door with a loud snap just so he knew what you thought of that, which he chuckled a bit knowing he had gotten under your skin with his teasing. 

Ransom was thinking to himself what a job well done, he managed to get the kitchen looking halfway decent and got you riled up a bit when he heard the soles of your shoes against the linoleum behind you. Turning, he smirked at you, cocky as ever. “Change of heart? Gonna let me go all ‘dog with a bone’ on you?” He lewdly suggested with a twist of your earlier words on you when you shook your head. 

“First, hell no. Talk about mood killer Ransom, and secondly my car has a flat. Let me have the Beamers keys.” 

His entire demeanor shifted when he heard that, the teasing playboy attitude dropped. “What do you mean a flat tire? Was it flat last night?” 

You shrugged and held out your hand, waiting. “I don't know, I will set up someone to come out and change the tire. But I do gotta go Ransom, our friends are coming over and the store made me a platter that they are expecting me to pick up within the next hour. Can I have the keys, please?” You added an emphasis on the please, wiggling your fingers. “I promise to take utmost care of her, not a scratch.” 

“Why? I can take care of it right now.” Feeling extra confident now, he hung up the towel that was over his shoulder and pulled out his phone. “Just youtube it, how hard can it be?” 

“Ransom, have you ever even changed a tire?” you set your bag down, looking doubtful that something like that could be learned so quickly on youtube, in which he shrugged. 

“People do it all the time.” He settled at the counter to watch the video, while you peeked over his shoulder. 

“You just don't want me driving the Beamer.” You poke at his side, making him hiss and shaking you off. 

“No, I can just have you in your car soon enough. Besides, there isn't really any space in the Beamer for groceries.” He bluffed, and you waved a hand at him while leaving the room. 

“Sure there isn't, let me know when it's all set Ransom.” You laughed, heading towards the back of the house, wondering how soon he was going to give in. 

Ransom was sure to change his clothes and headed out to the garage. His beloved Beamer on one side and then your piece of shit car that he had been begging to get rid of. You though seemed attached to the Subaru and was loath to trade it for something new. Like the Mercedes Benz GLS-Class that he had his eye on. Walking around, he found the flat, and inspected it. The tire seemed to have picked up a nail somewhere. The garage he had fully equipped once he moved in, at the time just so he could show it off to his drinking friends what he had and they didn't. But now it would prove to be useful, he could just hear his mother now. “Just call someone.” 

Well fuck it, he could take care of his family, and rolling his sleeves up muscular forearms, he was ready to prove it. 

It was a good hour later when you went to the kitchen to grab a snack from the refridgerator, and with your hand in the pickle jar, you heard Ransom clang something against the cement floor followed by “Son of a fucking cunt whore.” 

He was pissed. 

You ease the door open to see him with the car half jacked up, the wheel off and bouncing down the length of the garage, with Ransom trying to chase after it. 

“Ransom are you okay?” You ask when it bounces off the bay door and spins to a final stop. Huffing, Ransom grabs it and rolls it back to the car. His arms are streaked black and there's dirt all over his face. The only thing that looks clean are his bright blue eyes at this moment. 

“Fine, peachy, fucking fan-god damn- tastic.” he says sarcastically, and then the tire accidentally bumps into the stool, and on that stool is all the tires lug nuts, scattering them across the garage floor. 

“You vicious little bitch.” He mutters while dropping the tire to its side, looking at the mess made. You take your chances and approach him, biting your lip. Maybe this wasn't the best moment, but those pregnancy hormones had kicked in seeing him do such a filthy job. His hair was sweaty and spiked where he must have ran his hands through it several times, his tee shirt clung to him just right to outline some of the muscles, and sweat streaked down his back. 

Hell you didn't know if you have ever been so fucking turned on in your life, but you weren't about to miss out on it because your husband was getting pissed at a tire. Grabbing the back of his shirt, you caught his attention enough to turn. He was clueless at the moment, but you wrapped your hand around the back of his neck and pulled him down to meet you, lacing your tongue over his lips till he opened to you in a surprised grunt. 

When his head jerked back, he looked down at you in shock. “What the?” 

“Ransom your so fucking hot right now, and I want you.” You stunned him again and your hand tugged at the hair at the base of his neck. “You going to keep me waiting, Ran?” 

“Oh fuck no… “He pulled you back in close and you two shared another dirty aching kiss, backing up till Ransoms back hit the car, making the car wobble unsteady and the jack holding the car up collapsed. The crash made you two spring apart, both with a scream as you both backed away from the car in shock. 

You two looked at each other and you loosened your hold clutching Ransom’s shirt in fright and shock. 

“Ransom, will you let me now call someone, please?” You breathed out in a rush, your heart still pounding as you glanced up at him and he tried to compose himself, but you could see that he was still shook up. 

“You know what… Good idea. How about I drive you to the store in the Beamer instead? Let me just go get cleaned up.” 

“Wait!” You stop him, running your hands up his chest and biting your lip. “Before you do…” You drifted off, your eyes shining a bit more and Ransom arched a brow, the previous fright starting to fade. 

“This is doing something for you Princess?” He scoffed a bit, gripping your hips, letting his fingers dig slightly into the curve while pulling you closer so your bump pressed lightly into his stomach. “What happened to ‘I gotta be there asap Ransom, I can't leave them waiting.’ ?” 

You shrugged, tugging on his dirty tee shirt. “I have never seen this side of you Ransom, and I already called the store, they know we are going to be late.” 

“Well if that's the case.” Ransom got a devilish look and snapped a hand against your ass. “Let’s go pretend we're putting another baby in you.” The two of you heading back into the house, tugging at one another's clothing.

[aliendes]

Natural Borns - Chapter Seven

Banner by @thebannershop​

 Series info/genre: Angst, fluff, smut (NSFW)

Pairings: ot7 x fem reader (eventual)

Warnings: cursing, mxm hints? anxiety and panic, gunshots. I think that’s it for this chapter?

Description: In the year 2613, over half of the world’s population are what scientists consider ‘designer babies’. YN is a small town girl who is a true natural born, someone born naturally without he help of a lab or gene splicing. Her DNA is greatly sought after, but what is she willing to do to protect it?

Word count: 5.1k~

A/N: Hi all! Before you read this, I want to clarify something that I have gotten a couple of questions about. EVEN THOUGH this fic takes place in the distant future, not much has changed in the world aside from designer babies. There will be some technology that doesn’t exist today that will be mentioned (like self-driving vehicles and some other things, but those exist now… soo..), but for the most part, things aren’t super ‘futuristic’ in the technological sense. Like, phones and computers are still much like they are today… if that makes sense? I’m sorry if that confused some people, but there are no flying cars or anything like that! 

But you knew, with Jin - here in his strong arms, and with the rest of the boys, everything would be okay.

Waking up, you stretch your arms above your head, letting out a huff. Cheeks puffed up, you try to stifle a yawn. You aren’t sure what time it is, but you don’t feel like you’ve gotten much sleep. Rolling onto your side, you open your eyes to find the room pitch black, like always, because there were no windows in Seokjin’s room. Looking over to the door, you don’t see any light coming from underneath it, so you figure it must be the middle of the night. Deciding that you’re going to try and get some more sleep, you roll back over only to be met with an empty bed.

You furrow your brows and sit up, taking the thin sheet with you. After the shower you and Jin had yesterday, the two of you turned in early and you fell asleep in his arms, curled against his side. Where had he gone? 

Confused, you swing your legs over the edge of the mattress, finding the pair of slippers you’ve been wearing for the last few days. You try to rub the sleep from your eyes, still incredibly tired, when the door to Jin’s room slams open, startling you and making your head snap in the direction of the sound. 

“YN!” 

Hoseok is standing in the doorway, eyes wide and barely visible in the low light. Your own eyes widen at the sight of him, one hand on the doorframe, the other clutching at his chest, panting to catch his breath. “Hoseok?”

“YN we need to leave,” he breathed, moving into the room. You didn’t even think to question him, trusting him completely, and got up from your spot on the mattress. Hoseok looks shocked for a moment that you didn’t even ask him to explain himself, but quickly schools his expression as he takes notice of your hand on your ribcage when you stand. “Do you need help?” He asks, momentarily forgetting about the urgency of the situation, outstretching a hand towards you. You shake your head, hand waving him off.

“No, I’m fine. Where are we going?” Hoseok doesn’t know why his heart is clenching at the sight of you limping and holding your side, so he tries to brush it off and pulls his hand back. 

“It’s Jimin and Taehyung,” he rushes out, shuffling towards the door in the dark, the only light coming from down the hallway, “they escaped.”

Your eyes widened and you let out a small gasp at his words, “What?” 

You followed Hoseok through the doorway and down the hallway to the kitchen as he spoke, “We have a mole in the company, he helped them escape a few hours ago,” he scoffed, “but we think he gave away our position. We have to move.”

You wrapped your arms around yourself, hugging the fuzzy cardigan you were wearing, that you were sure was Seokjin’s, close to your body. You followed Hoseok into the small kitchen area where you found Jin, Namjoon and Jungkook packing a few duffle bags and backpacks with supplies and some clothing. Slowly coming through the doorway, you took in your surroundings. Seokjin looks frantic, trying to pack as many medical supplies and food items into his leather bag as possible. Jungkook was meticulously folding clothes and packing them into a large black duffle bag that looked to be military grade and Namjoon was leaning against the wall, speaking quietly into his phone. Upon entering the room, Hoseok immediately starts helping Seokjin pack his backpack, throwing necessary items in from the cupboards and under the sink. You stand quietly near the door, arms crossed over your chest to keep yourself warm in the chilly air of the cement warehouse. You’re only wearing sleep shorts, a t-shirt, the fuzzy cardigan and slippers. 

Upon noticing you enter the room, Jungkook moves towards you, reaching out his hand cautiously, but decides against it and pulls back. “Do you um…,” he trails off, looking down at your slipper clad feet, “have shoes?” 

You shake your head lightly, still sleepy from being woken up, “No, you carried me, remember?” 

Jungkook’s cheeks turn a light shade of pink at his slip-up and he coughs slightly to hide it. “Right,” he looks anywhere but your face, “I can find you something,” he mutters and stalks off to presumably find some shoes. 

“YN,” your head snaps in the direction of the voice, turning to find Namjoon walking towards you, “we need to get out of here, we’re going to meet Jimin and Tae about an hour away. There’s a storm coming, so we will need to move quickly. Are you going to be okay?”

You nod your head quickly, not wanting to be a burden on them, “Yeah, yeah. I just need some shoes, but I think Jungkook is on it,” Namjoon nods along with what you’re saying, “are the twins okay?”

Namjoon smiles sweetly at you, adoration growing even stronger for you at your concern for his loves, “As far as we know, yes. We don’t have a way to contact them, but our contact in Big Hit gave them coordinates, and we’re hopeful they’re already there.”

You nod again, wrapping your arms tighter around yourself at the idea of running through the forest at this time of night, especially in the rain. Namjoon reaches out and places his hand on your shoulder, prompting you to look up at the tall man. The expression he wore was something akin to adoration, which you didn’t quite understand. “We’ll be okay, YN. We won't let anything happen to you, or Jimin or Tae.” You give him a sad smile, which he graciously returns, before leaving the room with Hoseok, leaving you and Seokjin alone. 

You watch Namjoon and Hoseok walk through the door, your back to Jin, when you hear footsteps behind you. Sucking in a breath, you try and compose yourself. You’re scared. You can admit that to yourself. You don’t know what’s about to happen, or if you’re all going to be okay and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t terrified about traversing the dense forest in the middle of the night. Feeling a hand on your shoulder, instead of startling, like you usually would, you relaxed into Seokjin’s touch, worries momentarily masked by the feeling of his hands on you. 

“We’re gonna be okay, love,” he murmurs, close to the side of your face, other arm coming up to wrap around your front and pull you against his chest, “like Namjoon said, we wouldn’t let anything happen to you. I won't let anything happen to you.” 

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding and leaned your head back against Seokjin’s firm chest, the height difference between you two very apparent in your current position. “I’m scared,” you whisper into the empty room, “I’m worried about you guys. About Jimin and Taehyung. I don’t even know them, I barely know you guys. I don’t know why I feel like this, I- it’s confusing.” You furrow your brows as you try to figure out your words, frustrated that you can’t vocalize how you’re feeling to Jin. 

He brings his hand that was previously on your shoulder, around your front so you’re caged in both his arms, pulled tightly against his chest in a sweet bag hug, both of your own hands coming up to rest against Jin’s forearms. He rests his chin on your shoulder, quickly and carefully pecking the skin under your ear with his plush lips. It’s so quick you almost miss it, but you don’t, you definitely feel the plumpness of his moist lips against your skin, the feeling making your eyes flutter closed as you suck in a sharp breath through your nose, memories of his wet skin on yours at the forefront of your mind. “I know exactly what you mean, YN,” Jin whispers, lips still next to your face, “I promise you, I won’t let anything happen to you. I know you’re scared, we all are. But-”

“Jin!” you hear Yoongi yell from down the hall, making Jin release you as both of you scramble to the doorway to see what’s going on. “Ji-” Yoongi’s yell tapered off as he came face to face with the man he was calling for, “Jin, they’re close.”

Without another word, Jin and Yoongi gathered the bags and backpacks. You could feel the dark claws of anxiety crawling up your spine, encasing your being in a cloud of fear. It always started like this, anxiety, fear, and then panic. You couldn’t let your mind get the best of you right now, you needed to make sure that you don’t slow them down, that you don’t burden them anymore than you already have. 

“YN, let’s go,” it was Yoongi who spoke this time, a much gentler tone than you’re used to coming from him, “we don’t have much time.”

“I’ve got her, you go. Make sure Jungkook is okay,” Jin whispered the last part, hand on the shorter man’s shoulder who nods in affirmation, “we’ll be there in a minute.”

You could hear the pain in Seokjin’s voice, and it made your own fear bubble up even higher. You could feel it in your throat as Yoongi swiftly turned and ran back down the hallway from where he came. “What’s gonna happen, Jin?” you ask softly, staring at the disappearing form of Yoongi.

Jin lets out a frustrated huff and turns around quickly, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and ushering you out of the kitchen. “We don’t have much time, YN, we need to go.” 

You nod, unable to verbalize anything more, and follow along with him, jogging slightly to keep up. The only sound you hear is the flip-flopping of your slippers on the concrete floor, an eerie reminder that you were about to make a run for it through a dark forest, completely unprepared. Once you reached the end of the hallway, you entered a door on your right that led into what you can only assume is Namjoon’s room, where the rest of the boys had gathered. When he notices you, Jungkook rushes over and hands you a pair of socks and boots.

“Here,” he says shyly, looking down, “they’re Jimin’s.” 

“T-thank you,” you whisper, sitting on the cold floor and slipping your small feet into the much larger boots. As you sat there and laced up the boots, tying them as tight as you can, you hear the soft whispers of Yoongi, Namjoon, and Hoseok from across the room. 

“They should be there by now,” Hoseok whispers, “It’s been what… three hours since they left? Yeonjun said it shouldn’t take them more than two.”

“It doesn’t matter, Hobi,” Namjoon sighed, scrubbing a hand down his face, “we can’t lead them directly to Tae and Jimin, that would completely counteract what we’re trying to accomplish.”

“They’re not gonna have any idea what’s going on, Joon,” Hoseok sounds pained when he speaks, “Tae will be so scared.” You’ve never heard Hoseok worried before, usually he wears a calm and collected persona, always one to stand tall amongst chaos, at least from what you’ve seen so far, though you realize you don’t know these men, not really. 

Yoongi places a hand on Hoseok’s shoulder, a calming presence to him, it seems. “We will get to them, Hobi, I promise,” he whispers, voice low, “but we have to get out of here. According to Yeonjun they were only an hour out last he heard.” 

Namjoon moves forward, gesturing for you, Jungkook, and Jin, who were all standing near the door, to come over towards the table where the rest of them were huddled. “YN,” Namjoon addressed you, “you’re going to be with Jin and Jungkook, they’ll keep you safe. You three are going to move quietly, going North out the back of the warehouse. Stick to the trees, don’t go near the tree line where you’ll be visible. Move quickly.”

You nod, along with Jungkook who is standing beside you. Jin, who is behind both of you in a protective stance, speaks lowly, “What about you three?” 

“We’re going to head East from the warehouse,” Yoongi drawled, “Once we reach the main road, we're going to head North towards you guys. It might take a while to get there, so you need to keep going, even if we don’t meet up with you, and even if someone gets seperated.”

Hoseok’s lips were pursed into a thin line, hands balled into fists at his sides, ���You need to get to them, make sure they’re okay.” You nod in understanding and Hoseok shoots you a grateful look.

Jungkook whimpers next to you, a noise you’ve never heard him make before. When you look at him, he’s biting the flesh of his cheek, hands laced together in front of him. Jin wraps a comforting arm around his front, rubbing his hand across his chest to sooth him. “I don’t want to leave you guys…” he trails off. 

Namjoon smiles gently at the younger boy, “We’ll be okay, Kookie. We won't be gone long,” he promises, reaching a hand out to grab onto Jungkook’s making him nod, unable to argue further. 

“We need to get going,” Yoongi gruffs, “make sure you keep your phones on, I’ll be tracking you. I sent you the location of where Jimin and Tae should be. It’s a small safe house in the middle of the forest. Scan the area before moving in, make sure no one’s followed you, or them. Don’t communicate with each other through the phones, they could pick up signals.” With one final sympathetic look at Jungkook, Yoongi moves closer to embrace Jin in a quick hug, surprising you. You’ve never seen him show affection before, but you can imagine that he is truly worried about losing those he loves most right now. When he pulls away from Jin he leans over, placing a soft kiss to Jungkook’s forehead. “We’ll see you guys soon,” he says to you, reaching a hand out as if he was going to touch you, but decides against it. Instead, he gives you a soft look, one that you can imagine means, “take care of them.” It scares you, the thought that Yoongi feels like this might be goodbye, but doesn’t want to verbalize it. 

You hear Jungkook sniffling from beside you as Hoseok comes over and hugs both men tightly before grabbing his things and waiting outside the door. After Namjoon does the same, he smooths a large hand over your hair, smiling sadly down at you. “I’m sorry, YN,” he whispers, “I wish this wasn’t the world we have to live in.” You understood the meaning behind his words, I’m sorry I brought you here, but you wanted to let him know you didn’t feel that way. You were happy they took you in, but before you could do so, he was making his way towards the exit of the warehouse. 

Turning towards Jungkook and Jin, you see them embracing each other tightly, Jin whispering into Jungkook’s ear as he rubs a hand up and down his back. When Jin notices you, he reaches a hand towards you, which you automatically take, and he pulls you into the two of them. When you reach around to hug them both, Jungkook takes you by surprise and wraps his own arm around your middle, laying his cheek on the top of your head. 

“We should get going,” Jin whispers, “they could be here any minute.”

“Lead the way,” you say quietly, pulling away from the warmth that is Jungkook. 

Once the three of you exited the warehouse, you headed North up a small cliff and into the treeline. When you reached the forest, you turned around to take one last glance at the quarry. Even though you’ve only been here a few days, it still felt like a weird sort of home to you. Looking down on the large concrete building, shrouded in darkness, you said a mental goodbye to the place. 

“YN?” Jin said softly into the night, now a few feet in front of you. 

“I-I’m coming,” you say back, turning around to face him when you hear a loud bang come from the East, making you jump violently and look in the direction it came from. Not surprisingly, you don’t see anything in the forest, but you do see a couple of birds fly up from the top of the trees and into the night sky, squawking their displeasure at such a loud noise. Before you have a chance to collect yourself, you hear it again. Only this time… it’s closer?

The next thing you know, your wrist is in Jungkook’s hand and the three of you are running through the forest, trees flying past you quicker than you thought possible.

You run for a while, not looking back and keeping your eyes glued to the ground in front of you. You could feel the cool air rushing through your hair as you gained traction. Hand in hand, you and Jungkook sprinted through the forest, the only sound you could make out was the two of your breathing and the loud crunch of dead leaves and underbrush. 

“Jin!” you yell, glancing at Jungkook, making him abruptly stop running. You don’t quite stop in time and are yanked back by Jungkook’s hand still wrapped tightly around yours. He doesn’t seem to notice, though, as he’s frantically searching your surroundings for Seokjin. “Hey, hey,” you coo, moving towards him, reaching your free hand up to place on his chest, “it’s okay, Kook.” 

His panic stricken face softens at the nickname, but distress is clearly the only emotion he is feeling right now. “He was right b-behind us,” he pants out, eyes blinking rapidly to, you assume, fight back tears threatening to fall, “YN, he was right next to us!”

At that moment, you hear a loud crack of thunder above you, scaring both you and Jungkook as soft sprinkles of rain start to fall over you. 

“Jungkook,” you whisper, “it’s okay. You have your phone, right?” He nods in affirmation, “Okay, so does Jin. We just need to get to Jimin and Taehyung and we’ll meet back up with them, okay?” you try to calm the younger boy, despite your own intense fear of losing Jin. You hoped he was fine, just running on a different path than you. Maybe he was slower than Jungkook, definitely a possibility based on how quick the younger was running. You didn’t want to think about other possibilities right now. Not when you have a distraught Jungkook in front of you. You look up into his wide doe eyes and nod your head, “We’ll be okay.” 

Jungkook didn’t fully believe you, but decided in that moment he needed to trust you. If he didn’t, he would go crazy with worry for his hyung, for the person he loved more than himself. He knows what he heard were gunshots, you knew it too, you just didn’t want to admit it to yourself. 

Nodding more to himself than to you, Jungkook wraps his hand back around yours, giving it a gentle squeeze to let you know that he’s okay. The rain was starting to fall harder now, and you needed to get moving. You smile gently up at him, which he doesn’t return, understandably. “I-I can’t lose him, YN,” he whimpers, “I can’t lose any of them.”

“I know,” you shush him, thumb rubbing against his knuckles, “I’ve only known you for a few days, but…” you trail off, unsure of what you want to say, or how to say it. Jungkook waits patiently for you to continue, “I-I really care for you and Jin, and the others, too.”

Jungkook squeezes your hand again, “We need to find them.”

“We will,” you say confidently, “let’s look at the map.”

Jungkook lets go of your hand and drops the now wet, large duffle bag he’s been carrying on his back, onto the forest floor. After digging through a front pocket for a moment, he pulls out the small black device, pulling up the location of the twins. Peering over his shoulder, you see it’s about an hour walk to the North. “It’s 4 am now, if we move quickly, we can make it there before day break,” you say, watching Jungkook put his phone in his pocket and slinging the bag back over his shoulder. Nodding, he holds his hand out to you. 

Looking up at the handsome boy, you graciously take his hand, “Lead the way.”

The walk was mostly uneventful, and surprisingly quiet. The two of you didn’t hear any more noises in the night, aside from the falling rain and occasional crack of thunder, and you didn’t speak much to one another, other than a few ‘you okay’s’. It was nearing 5 am, and you and Jungkook just made your way through some trees and into a clearing. The sun was just barely starting to peak over the mountains in the East. As you look to your right, you see the light blue and purple hues covered in gray clouds just breaking over the mountain tops. The two of you were shivering, even though it was summer, the cool rain and lack of sunlight dropped the temperature a significant amount. Not to mention you’re wearing shorts and a tank top with a flimsy cardigan, all of which were now soaked through. 

“We’re almost there,” Jungkook’s soft voice breaks your attention away from the sunrise as you turn towards him to see him looking down at his phone, “only about ten minutes to go…”

Jungkook’s voice trailed off into almost a whisper, his eyes locked onto something far behind you as he slowly slid his phone into his back pocket. Curious, you turn to look over your shoulder, but Jungkook is quicker as he grabs onto your elbow, turning you back towards him, pulling you violently into his chest, your face sticking to his wet t-shirt. Protectively, he wraps an arm around your back and pulls you with him as he backs up slowly. Fear was threatening to take hold of you, you could feel eyes on you, like you were being watched, and whatever Jungkook thought he saw seemed to be a threat if he was willingly holding you close like this. 

Jungkook could feel you tremble in his hold, and he wanted nothing more than to comfort you, but right now he didn’t know how to do that. He could hear something moving in the treeline, barely audible over the sound of the storm, and he knows you haven’t heard it yet. His eyes are darting back and forth through the dimly lit forest, searching for any answer as to what is lurking out there. Slowly, he starts to back up with you, inching towards the opposite end of the clearing. 

You willingly let Jungkook pull you away, trusting him completely in that moment. “Jungkook,” you whisper softly against his chest.

He shushes you lightly, “I hear something.” His voice is so quiet you almost don’t hear him, but as you realize what he’s just said, you hear the crunching of twigs behind you. Both of your bodies stiffen at the noise and you peer up at him through your long lashes, eyes wide and glistening, a silent plea. 

Jungkook looks down at you, taking his eyes off the dark trees, round doe eyes meeting yours as his heart rate picks up, swallowing thickly, he mutters his next words quietly. “We can’t go to them,” his voice is sad, longing for his friends, “it’s not safe.”

You nod, chin rubbing against Jungkook’s sternum. The gravity of the situation has yet to set in for the both of you. Yoongi told you to scout the area before heading towards the twins, to make sure you weren’t leading anyone right to them. Running away from them means they’ll all be safe and hopefully the older boys will make it there soon, but it also means you could be running directly into the enemy, who would undoubtedly take you. Would they take both of you? Or just you? You didn’t want to think about that right now, all you needed to do was get as far away from the others as possible, to lead those who meant them harm, away. 

More wet cracking and crunching noises sounded behind you, startling Jungkook and making him break eye contact with you, eyes searching for danger. “On the count of three, we run,” he whispered, “we head West, away from the others.”

You nod again in affirmation, tears clouding your vision as you wrap your arms around Jungkook’s small waist, hugging him tightly, bottom lip trembling. “One,” you hear Jungkook sniffle, voice breaking slightly, “two,” he looks down at you one last time, letting a single tear drop onto your already wet cheeks. You nod at him, letting him know it’s okay.

 “Three.”

“Did Yeonjun say when they would come for us?” Taehyung whines, sitting at the small table in the safe house. It was a small, run down cottage hidden in the woods, but it was secluded, it was warm, and hopefully, safe. 

“Not really,” Jimin said from the kitchen sink, filling up his cupped hands with water to splash on his face, “he just said that we were about an hour away from them. We have everything we need here, they’ll come for us Tae, don’t worry.” Jimin was always a pillar of strength in their duo, always the voice of reason. “Besides, it was raining all night, it just barely stopped, they probably took shelter for a while.”

“The sun’s been up for a few hours,” Tae whispers, biting his lip, “do you think they’re okay?”

“Tae, they-”

Jimin is cut off by the sound of laughter outside the cottage. Looking at Tae, both of the faces light up at the sound of their friends, their lovers. They haven’t seen them in months, the anticipation would surely kill them both, so they rush to the front door, slamming it open to see Seokjin, Yoongi, Hoseok, and Namjoon coming through a break in the trees. Seokjin and Hoseok we’re giggling about something in the back of the group, but upon seeing the twins, all four men rushed forward to greet them. Jimin and Taehyung embrace all of them individually, placing sweet kisses on them, only to receive the same treatment in return. 

After they all greet one another with laughs and hugs, Seokjin’s smile falters, looking behind Jimin to the door of the safe house, head cocking to the side. “Where’s Kook and YN? They got here a while ago, didn’t they?”

Jimin’s brow furrowed at the question. “What do you mean? No one else has been here except us.”

Immediately, chaos breaks out. Jin runs at Yoongi, anger clear on his face, as he grabs him by the collar, “You said they would be here!” he roars, shaking the shorter man slightly, “I told you I needed to go back for them when I met up with you guys, you said they would be fine!”

“Jin,” Namjoon says calmly, placing a hand on his elders shoulder, “let him go.”

Jin sucks in a sharp breath through his nose as he drops Yoongi to the ground, feet crunching the sticks and leaves there. “Explain.”

Yoongi looks scared as he pulls his phone from his pocket, “They were here!” he exclaims, looking at the trackers he installed on all of their phones, “Jungkook’s phone pinged less than half a mile to the South, look!”

Yoongi shoves his phone in Jin’s face, the others crowding around to get a look. Sure enough, Jungkook’s pin was flashing, only about a quarter mile from their current location. “B-but,” Yoongi stuttered out, “that was five hours ago. Fuck.”

“That was the last ping you have from him?” Hoseok asks, lips pulled into a thin line, Taehyung’s hand grasped in his own.

Yoongi nods solemnly, scrolling through his phone for answers. “That was the last ping. I figured they would’ve been here, and the kid turned his phone off.” He looks up at Jimin and Taehyung, who both shake their heads, looking down at the ground.

“Well, what the fuck are we doing standing around?” Jin growls, “Let’s go!”

Namjoon steps up again, hands held up placatingly, “Jin, it’s not safe. We don’t know what-”

“Don’t give me that bullshit, Joon! Of course it’s not safe, and you know who else isn’t safe?!” His voice is echoing in the woods around them, “Jungkook and YN. They could be- could be-” he breaks off, lips slightly parted, eyes shaking at the possibilities on the tip of his tongue.

“It’s okay, Jin. We will find them, I promise. Right now, we need to make sure everyone else is safe and come up with a plan. Okay?” Namjoon smooths a hand over Jin’s dark hair that seems to be getting longer every day. Jin nods, eyes falling shut in defeat. 

The rest of the group looked on in despair. They all cared for Jungkook, and those who have met you cared for you as well, but no one cared for Jungkook more than Seokjin. He raised the younger boy, cared for him, had the strongest relationship with him. He would give his own life again and again to make sure Jungkook was happy and healthy and he was beginning to feel the same way for you. He didn’t even have a chance to tell you before you left the warehouse earlier, despite how badly he had wanted to, and now he has to deal with the possibility that he’s lost both of you. 

To be continued...

A/N: thanks for reading and making it this far! woo, we finally get to meet Jimin and Tea (kind of), but also... even more drama. what do you think happened to Kook and YN? let me know I love hearing your theories!

taglist: @mrsstilinski96​ @sammiilynn10192  @minifruity​  @mrcleanheichou @arantxaglz​ @chim-possible​ @kooksremedy @irishhbamb​ @sugashaye​ @lovelyseomin​ @strawberrygatorade 

the names with a strike through couldn’t be tagged :(

[halseyhazzard]

The Redemption of Judee Sill

Halsey Hazzard, fall 2018

for a writing class on pop culture criticism “So much sensationalist bullshit has been written about Judee Sill (by people who never knew her) focusing on her days as a hooker and a junkie.” So begins Pat Thomas’s interview with Tommy Peltier, a longtime friend and collaborator of Sill’s, in the liner notes to the recently and lovingly compiled “Songs of Rapture and Redemption: Rarities & Live.” He’s not wrong; in nearly all of the writing on Sill, her music, an inimitable blend of gospel, folk and country at once bluesy and baroque, plays second fiddle to the stranger- and sadder-than-fiction story of her all-too-brief life. Her eponymous 1971 debut and 1973’s Heart Food were met with praise from critics and her fellow songwriters alike; in 1973 Steve Holden called Judee a “most gifted artist, one who continues to promise almost more than I dare hope for.” Unfortunately — for Sill and for those who loved her, and for those of us who love her music — much of that promise never came to pass. She died in obscurity in 1979, leaving behind an unfinished third record and quietly ascending to the pantheon of young, brilliant musicians who died too soon.

It’s hard to write about Sill without relying on sensationalist bullshit. I suppose in writing this at all I’m contributing to the problem, but like so many others, I have joined the ranks of Sill’s devoted disciples, compelled to tell and retell her story to rectify fate’s perceived cruel disservice to a great talent. What emerges is not always a faithful portrait of the complicated artist Sill was, but rather a shifting and sometimes contradictory fable that cements Sill’s status as a legend — not, as she might have hoped, as “an extremely famous or notorious person,” but rather as the subject of a “story sometimes popularly regarded as historical but unauthenticated.”

The story goes something like this: Judee Sill was born Judith Lynne Sill to an average, unhappy middle class household in Los Angeles in 1944. She fell in with a rough crowd, got married, committed a series of crimes, got addicted to various drugs, went to jail, got married again. Eventually she cleaned up her act, put the gospel licks she’d learned in reform school to good use, and became the first act signed to David Geffen’s Asylum label. She put out two albums of intricate songs that married earthly desire and longing for heavenly salvation, populated with lonely cowboy types and vigilantes that sometimes seemed strikingly similar to Jesus. For a few shining years it seemed like Sill had made it. It soon became clear (the story goes) that fame was not what fate had in store for her. Until 2003, when Rhino issued Judee Sill and Heart Food on CDs for the first time as part of its Handmade series, Sill was “[u]nlamented and all but forgotten.” These are the words of Barney Hoskyns, who in a 2004 Guardian profile declared “[t]he tragic Judee Sill is well overdue for (re)discovery.” Since then, interest in Sill’s life and music has steadily increased thanks to a series of posthumous reissues and releases: 2005’s “Dreams Come True,” a two-disk set of unreleased recordings mixed by Jim O’Rourke (Sonic Youth, Wilco); Live in London: The BBC Recordings 1972-1973, released in 2007; and “Chariot of Astral Light,” an intimate collaboration with aforementioned Tommy Peltier recorded in the ‘70s and finally released in 2004.

In a review of the 2004 Intervention reissue of Judee Sill titled “The Judee Sill Cult Continues, This Time at 45RPM,” Michael Fremer of Analogplanet writes, “sometimes "legends" are created and nurtured simply by tragic circumstances. In Judee Sill's case add wasted talent and unfulfilled great promise that add up to a movie worthy story.” Sill’s life has yet to inspire a movie (although a seemingly-deserted IMDB page indicates at least one attempt at a documentary), but songwriter Laura Veirs’ “Song for Judee,” renders the Judee Sill legend in sparse yet cinematic detail. In it, Veirs’ voice echoes on top of warm, jangling guitars, the apparently upbeat melody betrayed by the sadness of the story it tells:

“You wrote “The Kiss” and it is beautiful

I can listen again and again

You never really got a break

From the car wrecks and the pain”

The crux of the Judee Sill legend is captured in these lines, which immediately identify Sill’s work with the tragic events of her life. Sill’s music is mentioned in Veir’s lyric but once, and only glancingly; it’s not even clear “The Kiss” is a song, or “Judee” a songwriter. Veirs’ appreciation for her music is given is as pretext for why the listener should care about Sill’s life, but it’s clear the main attraction here is tragedy. The rest of this atypical ode is not praise, but a retelling, addressed to Sill herself, of key moments in the legend of her life. What emerges is a tellingly concise fable that identifies Sill with the lonely phantom cowboys who populate her lyrical landscape.

Veirs appears to have lifted her narrative and several phrases from the BBC documentary. She mines in particular the commentary from Peltier, who says Sill was his best friend and shares the insights that would come to compose Veirs’ chorus: “You loved the Sons of the Pioneers and the Hollywood cowboy stars/you were just trying to put a hand to where we are.” She also borrows, nearly word-for-word, an introduction Judee gave during one of her London radio performances in 1972, describing her time “living in a ‘55 Cadillac, five people sleeping in shifts.” This almost creates an intimacy with Sill, whom Veirs had never met; however, there remains an insurmountable distance. Sill had been dead 35 years — as long as she was alive — by the time this ode was composed. While Veirs hints at Sill’s troubles in the first verse, only in the last verse does she make explicit what happened: “They found you with a needle in your arm, beloved books strewn ‘round at your feet”. The revelation gives the chorus retroactive prophetic relevance. The past tense, once wistful, is now crushing.

Her death, like her life, became part of the legend. There are general points of agreement: she had been in several car accidents, was using heroin again, and died of an overdose just after Thanksgiving 1979. Everything else is less clear. Though her death certificate reports she was found dead in her house in North Hollywood, a persistent rumor suggested she had disappeared to Mexico to live out her final days. Her death was reported as a suicide, but family members and friends maintain that the note found near her, a characteristic musing on death and redemption, was an idea for a song.

The title of a 2014 BBC Radio documentary by Ruth Barnes says it all: “The Lost Genius of Judee Sill.” Sill’s genius is preceded by its lostness. Sill herself comes last. Her music is mentioned too, of course. They quote Sill’s self-description of her work as “country-cult-baroque” and her professed influences, Bach and Pythagoras. (In some versions of the quote, Ray Charles is thrown in.) Yet every time, it seems, someone brings up that she wrote “Jesus Was a Crossmaker,” about JD Souther, that Graham Nash produced it. She was the inaugural artist on David Geffen’s Asylum, we’re told, .She opened for Crosby Stills and Nash, and Cat Stevens, and Gordon Lightfoot — and so on. These revelations are usually accompanied by astonishment at the fact that she failed to find the commercial success of her peers, despite her comparable — perhaps superior — talents.

Many have offered explanations about how this happened. There is a general consensus that her falling-out with Geffen played a role. It’s not exactly clear what happened. The word “faggot” was involved, but whether it was said live or on the radio, in reference to Geffen himself or a pair of his pink shoes, is up for debate. Whatever she said severed their relationship. Some contend that she may have been in love with him, and was hurt when he spurned her advances. Others point out that she was growing frustrated with what she saw as his lack of promotion for her music. By this point, she was already making no secret of her disdain for the “snotty rock bands” she had to open for, and I doubt this did her any favors.

The contradictions in people’s stories exacerbate the larger-than-life quality of her life and times, as do the many cliches used to tell her story. Headlines variously declare her “a star that fame forgot,” “L.A.’s doomed lady of the canyon who lost her genius to drugs,” a “mystic” who “walked among us.” The human Judee Sill is lost somewhere beneath this sensationalism. It is no wonder why her friends and family members, Tommy Peltier chief among them, feel so compelled to set the record straight by providing their version of events. In his remarks in “Songs of Rapture and Redemption,” Peltier is quick to discourage speculation about her drug use and past prostitution, declaring instead “She was just the most beautiful person.”

“Beautiful,” you may recall, was the only word Laura Veirs could come up with to describe “The Kiss.” When I first heard “The Kiss,” I was immediately struck by how inadequate the word was to describe what I was hearing. The song showcases the best of her efforts to induce mathematically precise intervals into intricate melodies that aren’t so much heard as felt. Her lyrics, confusing the sacred and profane, ride the thin ridge between love and logic, devotion and desperation. Over shifting and plaintive piano Sill sings a eulogy to stars bursting in the sky and begs a lover — god? — to come and hold her “while you show me how to fly.” I first heard “The Kiss” in a YouTube video, one of few that survives of her performing, whose introduction insists that she herself was determined to be a successful musician. Ironically, the video shows precisely why perhaps she couldn’t be: severe and guileless, Sill hunches over the piano as if it were all that exists, engrossed in the song’s intense and uncommercial emotional intensity.

Sill’s idiosyncrasies are on full display in “Songs of Rapture and Redemption”, a compilation whose greatest strength is its commitment to capturing the artist and all her contradictions in her own words. The sleeve features a candid photograph of a smiling Sill, alongside several of her paintings and drawings. The tracks included are a combination of live recordings, demos, and studio outtakes that lay bare the deceptive complexity of her compositions. In the Boston Music Hall performance that opens the record, Sill, armed only with an acoustic guitar, tells the audience “I’m going to sing you a few little songs before David [Crosby] and Graham [Nash] get here. I’d like to sing you this song called “The Vigilante”. It’s new, I hope I remember the words.” The self-effacing introduction notwithstanding, what follows is nothing short of revelatory.

An early highlight is “Enchanted Sky Machines,” a bluesy number about waiting for the end of the world where she trades her distinctive fingerpicking for pentecostal piano licks she picked up in reform school. There is an aching earnestness to the way she sings of swallowing her yearning, and it carries over into “The Archetypal Man,” which begins with Sill singing the song’s opening harpsichord solo. Before “Crayon Angels,” she describes how she would call up friends as she was writing the album and sing them instrumental solos, joking that it must have been hard for them to like her in those days. The crowd is in on it, and her self-deprecating humor belies a clear confidence in her talents and her musical vision that is justified by the virtuosic grace of her playing. Sill was a perfectionist who demanded and deserved creative control, a notoriously laborious songwriter who could be a tyrant in the studio, and these tendencies are on full display even in this humble solo set. When she introduces her second last song, “The Lamb Ran Away With the Crown,” she enunciates every word, then repeats it again — ”with. the. crown.” — determined to ensure the the audience walks away knowing exactly what she was saying.

The set ends with Judee’s signature song, “Jesus Was a Crossmaker,” which had only just been released to radio two days prior. She calmly reveals the song’s inspiration, an unhappy relationship with a “bandit and a heartbreaker,” and describes waking up one day with the conviction “that even that wretched bastard was not beyond redemption.” Her diction is clear, her tone less so. The audience, nonetheless moved, cheers and laughs. She goes on: “It’s true, I swear. It saved me, this song. It was writing this song or suicide. It’s called “Jesus is a Crossmaker” and I hope you like it.” Her voice seems monotonous for such an emotional confession, but that stops mattering as soon as the song begins.

Instantly her singing voice, freed from the perfectionism of her studio recordings, reveals itself as strikingly human. Precise, unadorned, free of vibrato, it is flat in places, sharp in others, yet cuts to the rhythmic core of each note. She struggles with a few of the intervals she has given herself to sing, but this only enhances the song, giving human voice to the mathematical precision of her compositions, linking the downtrodden with the divine. With her unpretentious voice and deceptively simple language, she strives to speak redemption into being. Her longing for it is audible.

Such longing is a key theme in much of sill’s work, and nowhere is it more pronounced than in “Crayon Angels”:

Crayon Angel songs are slightly out of tune

But I'm sure I'm not to blame

Nothing's happened, but I think it will soon

So I sit here waiting for God and a train to the Astral plane

Later in the song, she confesses “Guess reality is not as it seems so I sit here hoping for truth, and a ride to the other side”. Sill knows the truth she longs for is unattainable, at least in this lifetime — but she remains unflagging in her belief in something. It is this belief that motivates her music. To characterize Sill as a god-given genius laid low by fate undercuts her formidable musical ambition, and the sincerity with which she approached her craft. The work she created was not purely inspired by the divine, but instead strove for it, confronting the inevitable impossibility of reaching perfection with the all-too-human drive for beauty in the face of death. Still, one gets the sense that Sill herself, enthralled as she was with cowboy stories and cosmic secrets, might appreciate the mythic proportions her life story has taken. I like to think that she’s made it to the Astral plane, and that wherever she is, she’s smiling.

[nihilisticbunny]

A Modern Punkrock Tune for Us

A.K.A Song for Them College AU because I listened to too much ABBA one night hahahahaha

Warnings for, ah, crazy person in a highly unstable friendship circle that involves rich kids, cops, hacktivists and a wannabe cult member. Also, high AU vibes so don’t expect any of this to transfer back to my Naruto fan fic, A Song for Them— Welp. Enjoy?

*cue maniacal laughter as I proceed to procrastinate writing more*

O—0—o—0—o—0—O

"Okay, you better take that back right now, you damned rich boy!"

They came to an abrupt stop in the middle of the quad, halfway to their next class. Around them, her volume drew curious looks from loiterers on the grass and a couple jealous glares from a few female students after they recognized whom she had been yelling at.

Itachi gently removed the rude finger stabbing into his chest.

"As usual, you are being melodramatic.” he said, tone as flat as the cement they were standing on. He idly bushed off the front of shirt, voice lowering. “And please, stop shouting. You are making a scene."

Sora huffed in annoyance, sassily cocking out her hip and planting a hand on it. “Look at me,” she replied. He did not feel it would be appreciated to point out that he was already looking at her. “Do I look like I give even one damn? Let everyone and their mother look on because I am not — repeat: NOT going to concede this argument to you, ya bastard.”

Flipping her long strawberry hair over her shoulder, she stood resolute in her billowy blue blouse and met his blank onyx stare with a violet-eyed glare.

"I will fight you over this."

His brow furrowed the slightest bit in exasperation. "There is no need for confrontation, Sora-san. You simply mistook the meaning of my words."

"Like hell I did! You clearly implied that your broody Duck of brother is cuter than my Hero! Which, is insane! Borderline institutional! You obviously need a better prescription for those things!" she snapped, waving a hand at the sleek glasses perched on the bridge of his nose.

"I never mentioned the word 'cute'…" he protested weakly, a faint frown pulling at the corners of his mouth. But he straightened his back, remaining composed as ever. "That being said, I feel compelled to point out that you are speaking from a heavily biased point of view. The fact is, neither one of us will be able to come to a clear and fair judgment in this debate. It is best to simply agree to disagree about this particular subject."

Itachi had made a reasonable point. It was too bad he was dealing with an unreasonable person.

"It's not up for debate," she reiterated, cracking her knuckles. "I warned you — now bring it, long-hair.”

Itachi could not bring it for a number of reasons, the prime and probably most relevant reason being; he was currently holding her textbooks. While he stored his books away neatly into a messenger bag sitting on his shoulder, Sora had shoved all of hers into his arms the moment she had come across him earlier that morning. He did not protest because of their shared history, and because his Mother had raised him to be a gentleman sensitive to a lady's needs.

Though, how many would consider Sora to be a 'Lady' remains to be seen…

"Oh, look," Itachi deflected with a monotone drawl. "There is Deidara. He's waving at us."

Deidara was, in fact, not waving at them. He had actually spotted the pair of them a minute before and ducked his head and began walking faster, trying very hard not to be seen by a certain violet-eyed terror.

Today was not his lucky day, however.

Sora's head had whipped around like a bloodhound on the scent of her prey, eyes scanning the nearby faces for a head of shiny blonde hair.

"Deidei? I need to talk to him! Where is that blonde bombshell — I wanted his opinion on my Independent Arts project before I show it to Professor Sasori. He would know exactly how much flour I can add before things get too combustible — Oh! There he is! DEI-DEIIII!"

Deidara cursed and began to run across the quad, in the opposite direction.

"Damn it," Sora groaned, pulling off her heels. She set the shoes on top of the books Itachi was holding and pouted up at him, looking to all the world like she was the one being inconvenienced. "I hate it when they run."

Directly after saying that, Sora had broken into a full-sprint after their mutual acquaintance, long skirt whipping behind her. Itachi watched with detached amusement as Deidara, clad in probably too much leather, began to flag as his stamina depleted. Sora, much more used to the physical exertion, was steadily catching up with him right up until — ah. She caught him. The Numerology club loitering nearby let out a cheer as she tackled him into the grass, pinning him down.

Itachi's lips twitched up slightly.

"GET OFF ME! I'M BEING—UGH—ASSAULTED, YEAH!"

"YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE RUN IN THE FIRST PLACE!" she retorted, grabbing his wrists with one hand. "OR GET BETTER AT IT!"

With a barely perceptible sigh, Itachi made his way over to them as they began to wrestle on the grass, exchanging elbows and insults. He didn't want to have to deal with campus security if someone made another complaint against them for indecent behavior in a public setting.

And, he was getting tired of holding Sora's things.

O—0—o—0—o—0—O

[heavymetalover]

Heart-Shaped Box (Michael Langdon x fem reader)

Summary: On your way out of the Satanic church, you and an inexperienced Michael share an intimate encounter.

Warnings: smut, dirty talk, slow burn, choking, oral sex (female receiving), sassy reader.

Word count: 3.4k

A/N: thanks to everyone in the ahs/cody fan base for being so kind and reading my shitty writing :) youre all dope mfs

i only did minimal editing so i hope there arent too many mistakes !!

~~~~

You exhale a long sigh when hanging up your cloak in the empty church. You take in the atmosphere of the church; you’re going to miss being a Satanist. You finally felt like you belonged somewhere, felt like you finally had a home, but things changed once Michael came along. Everyone was on their toes, trying to one-up each other, it was first grade all over again and everybody was the teacher’s pet. Part of you blames yourself for succumbing to the desire of having external support, your own little dysfunctional family. But you blame Michael. He ruined everything for you, and you didn’t want to be apart of his crusade.

You take a seat on the first bench, observing your surroundings for the last time. The mood lighting from the lit-up candles, curtains hanging on either side, the walls painted an ominous blood red, the upside-down cross hanging above the alter… God you’ll miss this place.

Dress shoes click on the polished wooden floors and you stand from your seat, preparing to bolt without having to engage in conversation about why you’re leaving. You know the rest of the members would give you great shame for not kissing Michael’s ass. Fuck him. Fuck the people at this church. They all claim to be different, evil, but they’re just like God-fearing Christians. As soon as their “saviour” came, they kissed his feet. Not you.

You brush past the person who walked in, keeping your eyes glued onto the floors. They grab your arm and you stop, still not turning around to look at them. A sick feeling turning in your stomach suspects you already know who it is. “It’s… y/n, right?” the man asks. His indistinguishable smooth voice sings your name like a lullaby and your heart drops. He hasn’t said two words to you before, the closest you’ve gotten to speaking with him is exchanging glacial stares, so how did he know your name?

“Michael,” you reply. “Sorry, uh, Mr. Langdon,” you redress him. “How do you know my name?”

“You can call me Michael,” he says, “I like to know all the people who have been worshipping my father.” He pulls you by the lacey fabric of your dress, trying to turn you to meet his gaze. You spin around and hold your head high. His body is twisted towards you, carrying himself confidently. He doesn’t scare you, even if he is a head taller than you... and the antichrist.

Your eyes meet his, the candles in the room give him an intimate lighting on his porcelain skin. His blonde feathered hair done to perfection, as always. The princess always has to look damn good, doesn’t he?

“What’re you thinking about?” he asks, cutting your observation short. You open your mouth to speak, but he holds up his finger. “Let me guess… coming up with an excuse on why you just hung up your cloak and were about to leave my father’s church,” he guesses.

You’d rather affirm his assumption than explain what you were actually thinking about. Of course everyone in the church had a crush on Michael, but they openly admitted it. You’re a little more stubborn. You hold your hands up in vanquish, “You got me.” You walk backwards, hoping to leave the conversation as is. “I should head out then,” you add, but Michael takes a step toward you with every step you take back. You stop, annoyed by his tenacity. Maybe he’s more like you than you thought.

“And why is it that you’re leaving?” his voice is surprisingly warm. “I’m not what you expected I’d be? Unsatisfied with my leadership?”

Michael’s never grovelled for anything, not even a lousy reply; you smile at his zeal. “I just don’t want to swim too close to… a drowning man,” you respond, hesitantly choosing your words.

“Oh?” the word immediately slips from his lips, an eyebrow cocked. He turns around to the alter, his silky black cloak flowing behind him. Michael reaches under the podium to grab a chalice and a bottle of merlot. A little inside joke your church had, mocking the blood of Christ in Catholic churches. He fills the glass with wine and hands it over to you, “A drowning man, huh? Did I strike a nerve?”

You take a sip of the bitter beverage, somehow the flavour is both pleasant and unpleasant. When you look at him as he awaits your answer and meet his deep blue eyes, it’s hard for you to answer truthfully. “Nope, no nerves struck,” you lie, taking another big gulp.

“You’re not a very good liar,” he quips. He takes a step back from you and walks around the benches, your eyes follow him around the room. Dragging his feet across the floor, eyeing up the church just as you were. Even as he’s just being observant and not really doing anything, Michael holds a certain hostility to his presence. “What have I done to displease you? I’d like to know,” his voice echoes.

You glance around the room for anything to save you, he’s stopped in his tracks to watch you squirm under his influence. You look at the exit of the room, then back at Michael. “Look, I was just planning on leaving,” you explain with a passive shrug.

He steps away from the exit. “You can if you’d like. I’m only curious… and I wouldn’t want you leaving my father’s church on a bad note,” he answers. He walks towards you and you back up closer to the alter, it feels like he’s intentionally closing in on you to make you feel threatened. You won’t let it work. “Again, just so there are no animosities,” his voice is lower, “what have I done?”

You take the last sip of wine, realizing your lips haven’t parted from the glass for nearly the entire time. It’s much easier to tolerate Michael with a drink in your hand. Although you could easily put it back under the podium, you decide to hand the empty cup back to Michael. At first his eyebrows furrow in confusion, then a moment passes and his lips twist into a cunning smile. If he wants to act dominating, you will too. “You know where that goes,” he says in a mere whisper.

“So do you,” you retort, the alcohol giving you an extra boost of courage.

He walks past you, brushing you with his cloak as he goes and ignoring the cup you hold out to him. You smile to yourself, biting your lip from calling him stubborn. You thought that you were the most obstinate person you’d ever know, but Michael might take the cake. Two can play at that game; you purposely put your cup in the wrong spot.

Michael takes a seat on the alter, still waiting for your response. You sit across him on the first church bench. “It’s not anything you’ve done, it’s what you’re not doing,” you finally respond. He stops fiddling with the pentagram necklace hanging on his chest to glare at you, you got his attention. “Oh, please,” you roll your eyes, “I haven’t seen so much angst in a grown man, you’re practically a child.”

He scoffs. “I don’t think you’d speak with that conviction if you knew what I’ve been through,” he spits.

“Obviously losing people isn’t fair, but you’re literally the antichrist and you’re hiding behind the fact that your friend died,” you rebuttal. You shiver at the thought of all your losses, now this church is also going to be added to the list.

He’s shaking his head, dismissively rolling his eyes at you in dissatisfaction. He’s so much like you, it makes you hate him even more. This boils your blood; maybe it’s the alcohol, but his bullheadedness is sending you over the edge. Before he can answer, you want to ruffle his feathers a little more. “I can’t take over the world because my friend died and daddy doesn’t love me, boohoo,” you tease. “Grow up, we’ve all lost people.”

He takes a moment before responding to you, his eyes trailing down your body in disgust. You freeze under his stare. Then his frigid gaze falls back onto yours. “Maybe you’re just too stupid to realize how miserable you should be,” he responds callously, “Does a dumb harlot like you have no bounds?”

You clutch your legs together, his blistering words cause a tingling in your core; he’s never spoken to anyone like this before. Michael can come across as a contemptuous dick, but he’s never purposely been disrespectful. You try to answer him quickly, making sure he doesn’t notice that he knocked the wind out of you. “I’m far from a harlot, Mr. Langdon,” you keep yourself composed. “Tell me, with everybody’s heads up your ass, do your shits just fall out?”

You’re rewarded with a laugh. “You’re a snappy little thing,” his voice is small.

“I’m merely a confident woman refusing to kiss your ass.”

“You’re merely a confident woman who squeezes her legs together when being degraded by a man,” he barks back, no uncertainty in his voice, “I see how you tense up every time I’m around. Every time you’re on your knees praying to my father, praying to me.” You cement in your seat by his sudden bitterness, taken aback by his personality change. “You’re ashamed of your sexual desires, pretend to be a pure flower, but deep down an insatiable little whore.” Baffled by his vulgarity, your mouth opens to respond, but no words come out. You’ve never been muted by the words of another person, it irks you. He dusts off some of his cloak, still sitting pretty like he hadn’t broken his customary tone. “Have I made an erroneous observation, y/n?” he asks, still refusing to look at you.

Your first instinct is to shrug, but he doesn’t see. He finally stops tending to his clothing and pays attention to you again. You feel a smirk stretch across your lips without your consent, almost like a dark entity moving through you. You’re done trying to piss him off, you want to try something else. “Okay, I’m a whore… and?” you challenge him. He cocks his head in confusion. “I don’t see your hands under that cloak, how do I know you’re not relieving some of your own tension?” your voice drops seductively.

“Impossible,” he snaps.

“Impossible,” you mock him. “Why?”

“Because there is no tension,” he explains, shifting in his seat. You don’t reply, you just watch him uncomfortably try to adjust to the situation. Frustration washing over him when you don’t give him the satisfaction of a response, he stands from his seat. You follow suit.

You step closer to him, his eyes locked onto the floors but find yours in an instant. The cerulean lit by the dancing flames of the candles beside him. You’re only inches apart from each other, Michael makes no effort to step away. “Maybe I was wrong about you, Michael,” you whisper. You take another step closer to him, his body lightly grazing yours. He leans into you, pressing his pelvis against your belly. “Maybe all you need is a good fuck,” you bite your lip.

You feel him growing hard against you. He raises an eyebrow. “How are you doing this to me?” his voice is softer than before.

You exhale a laugh almost mockingly. “You don’t need to question it, Michael. Just find the courage to reach out…” your voice low. You run your hands down your body and lightly massage your breasts, a soft moan escapes your lips, “and touch.”

He leans down, his full lips press against yours. You feel him fumbling, so you take the lead. Giving gentle kisses and slowly making them deeper, you run your fingers through his luxurious blonde locks, pulling slightly. He follows your lead, his hands caressing your back and pulling your body into his even tighter. It takes Michael only a few moments to learn how to kiss before he wants to devour you.

His kisses become aggressive and his tongue pushes its way into your mouth. Regularly you’d enjoy being dominated in such a way, but you’re not letting yourself lose control over Michael. You liked having him at your fingertips.

You pull away from his burning hot body and walk to the other side of the alter. He freezes in place, collecting himself from the kiss. You smirk at the lipstick you’ve stained on his mouth. “Did I do something wrong?” he questions.

You shake your head, “No.” He steps towards you again, reaching out to you for more like a bratty toddler. “No more touching,” you order, “and I want you on your knees.”

He grins. “Aaand what makes you think that you’re in charge?” he asks.

“Because you want pussy,” you suggest. He laughs sardonically and you feel your heart sink into your chest. “Seriously, I think you need to learn to be a bit more flexible with your superiority.”

He pushes some of your hair behind your ear and you shift your head to the side, trying to enforce your no touching rule. “I don’t bend,” he retorts.

You step back from him and reach under your dress to shimmy off your panties. He watches your every movement, greedy to have more of you. “Well, everybody knows what happens to things that don’t bend,” you shove your panties in his mouth.

He spits them out. “I’m the fucking antichrist,” he seethes.

“A shitty one at that,” you spit back.

The force of his hand suddenly gripping your throat hitches your breath. Your hands grab his and he squeezes your neck tighter. “You think I’d take orders from a doe-eyed harlot like you?” his blood boiling. You feel yourself soaking from his words, recalling a sick fantasy you’ve had about this exact situation that you’ve concealed deep in your subconscious.

“Then just kill me,” you test his bluff. Now might not be the best time, but you have nothing else to lose. “Do it,” you press.

He squeezes harder one last time before his hand goes limp along with any faith you had in him. You try to discreetly gasp for air, taking in sharper breaths. “That’s what I thought,” you tease him even more. His nostrils flare out in anger and it makes you smile to yourself.

“Show me,” he lowly moans.

You take a seat on the first church bench, still trying to regulate your breathing. “Show you what?”

“Everything.”

You lean back on the bench and he takes a seat on the alter in front of you. You shake your head; a part of you just wants to leave now and be done with the church, be done with him. But a greater part of you wants to taste every inch of his body. To stick around and feel Michael inside you. This part dominates you, and again you feel yourself being possessed by the dark entity.

You reach down and brush your leg with your fingertips, taunting him by lifting the fabric of your dress only to let it drop back to your shins. “You want a peak?” you ask him. He doesn’t say a word; he only watches your hands. You take his silence as admission to reveal yourself to him.

You squeeze your legs together and lift up your dress, opening your legs up to expose your drenched cunt. Michael drops to his knees in defeat, crawling closer to you on all fours. His necklace hangs in front of him, oscillating like a pendulum. He comes so close that you feel his warm breath against your thighs, intensifying the tingling, rather sending an ache through your core.

When your fingers make contact with your throbbing clit, you let out a deep moan. Giving yourself one last rub before withdrawing your hand from your dripping pussy, you suck yourself off of each finger. Michael only watches you, no longer wanting to reach out in momentary greed.

“Do you want to taste it?” you breathe.

“I do,” his voice is faltering, no longer sounding menacing, instead overflowing with lure.

You lift your legs onto the bench, spreading them as wide as you can. “Then show me how hungry that pretty mouth of yours is.”

He starts on your thighs, wasting no time with each open-mouthed kiss he gives. His mouth inches from your pussy, he disregards it to suck on your thigh. You gasp at his hostility, fervently sucking on the inside of your thigh and leaving a love bite. It makes you want to question where he learnt to do that.

He lays his tongue flat on the entirety of your aching cunt, his lips wrapped around yours and he sucks on your folds. You try keeping in your moans, but they escape bit by bit. You feel yourself getting lost with each lick and every suck brings you closer to God. “Michael,” you groan his name.

He buries his tongue deep into you and a moan escapes your chest, you arch your back and impulsively try to close your legs. He pushes your legs apart again and continues to eat you as if you were his last meal. His moans vibrating into your sensitive cunt sends goosebumps all throughout your body.

Your breath gets caught in your throat as you feel yourself starting to come. “Micha-” you can’t finish saying his name, you interrupt yourself with a pornographic moan. Your moans echo through the church, it crosses your mind that the people walking by this cheap backwater building could probably hear you as well. You don’t care, if anything, the uncertainty turns you on even more.

You come undone, screaming all the moans you were previously neglecting. Michael’s glossy eyes look up to you, begging for your come. “You’re so fucking good,” you sigh, your fingers pulling his hair again. The way his tongue ravages your cunt restores the modicum of faith you had in him, if only he brought the same kind of dedication to world sovereignty.  

You try to even out your breathing, but fail every time he gives an unexpected lick. Your legs are trembling, you feel your whole body acting on every little whim. Even the sounds you’re making refuse to be silenced. You’re no longer in control of your own actions. You grind yourself on his face and he presses your hips hard against the bench, putting you in your place for messing up his rhythm. You finally feel yourself coming onto him, screaming his name one last time. Continuing to ride out the transitory ecstasy, your pussy incoherently spews your juices and Michael attempts to drink down every drop he can.

The wetness from your soaked cunt pools on the bench, but Michael ignores it to finish off with gentle kisses along your thighs again. “Michael, please fuck me,” you hear yourself beg. Even if the tables have turned and now it’s you pleading for him, you’re too detached to care. “Fuck me like the whore I am,” you continue, emotionally divorced from the words leaving your lips, the only goal is to appear irresistible to him.  

“No,” he responds, wiping your lipstick from his mouth. You study his expression hard, now wondering if it was you that had done something wrong. Why wouldn’t he want to fuck you? You’ve gotten this far… “Y/n, just because we came this far, doesn’t mean we have to rush things,” he explains.

You shut your legs, “Did you just hear my thoughts?”

You’re both interrupted by somebody entering the room; the priest of your church, Hannah, saunters in wearing her red robe. Your visceral reaction is to stand from your seat, but Michael stays on his knees. You step away from the bench, leaving behind the mess you two made. “What’re you doing here?” she asks.

“Just leaving,” you mutter, beelining to the door before anybody can stop you. A voice booms in your head, not your own, but Michael’s. His familiar, smooth voice leaves you a message. Tomorrow. Same place, same time. I’ll give you what you need.

You want to question how he can project himself into your head, too, but it would be redundant to keep inquiring his powers. You look back, he doesn’t pay you attention, he’s busy putting your cup back under the podium. You smile to yourself while exiting the church.  

[calumance]

Sunshine (bestfriend!Calum AU) - Part 4

Warnings: AGNST, little bit of cussing, cheating

Word Count: 4.8k 

Summary: Amelia has feelings for Calum, and Calum has feelings for Amelia, but the two friends are never on the same page.

A/N: Sorry this part is a little long! I’ve been neglecting this fic, so I figured I should update it. Only one part left after this one! Feedback and requests are always welcomed!!! (Want to be notified when I post my writing? Let me know, and I’ll tag you!)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 

           When Calum landed in Australia the first person he wanted to call was Amelia, but Luke told him the better option was to surprise her and just go to her house. Calum wasn’t sure that was the best idea, but maybe she’d have no choice but to forgive him if they were suddenly standing face to face. Calum dropped his bag on the floor of his bedroom and ran his hands through his hair partly in frustration, and partly out of exhaustion. Calum threw himself on his bed and closed his eyes for what felt like a second. When he reopened his eyes, it was starting to get dark and it had been at least three hours since he got home. Suddenly, he felt like he was losing his chance to surprise Amelia. Calum had walked to her house, only to stop dead in his tracks when he saw her running out of her house to jump in a car and kiss the guy in the driver’s seat. He knew that it was William, and he knew that William meant more to her than he ever will. So, Calum turned on his heels and walked back home.

           When he got home, he immediately jumped in the shower. As he ran the towel down his face, his eye caught sight of the All Time Low CD Amelia had given him for his birthday. A small part of him wanted to throw it against the wall and hope it shattered, but instead he put it into his stereo and aggressively pressed play. Once the music filled the room, he laid back on his bed one hand on his chest, then other resting under his head. He swallowed the lump his throat and closed his eyes. This album will forever and always remind him of Amelia. Remind him how much he wants to hold her and tell her what she means to him. Remind him that she will never reciprocate the feelings he has for her, but for now, all he wanted as for her to not hate him anymore.

           Amelia was head over heels for William. She couldn’t believe that a few months ago, she had doubted if she wanted to move in with him once they finished school, but now she knew that she never wanted to leave his side. She was absolutely smitten. Music filled her room while she got ready to go meet William at the restaurant for their date. She danced around her room, singing and putting on just the perfect amount of make up on. A voice in the back of Amelia’s head kept telling her that Calum was home and maybe she should give him a call. Her eyebrows furrowed, if he wanted to talk to her, he would’ve called. She placed her brush on her dresser and wondered if Calum had completely forgotten about her. Amelia shook her head, physically shaking the thoughts from her mind and continued to get ready.

           She felt good in her floor length, floral dress and heeled ankle boots, an outfit she had specifically gone out and bought for tonight. Her heels clicked on the cement as she walked up to the front door of the restaurant. She paused when she saw him already sitting inside, alone at a table for two. She lifted a hand and ran it through her hair, a smile creeping across her face. Just as quickly as the smile appeared, it vanished. A girl she recognized from school came into her view, pulling the empty chair out, and placing a kiss square on his lips before sitting down. Rage boiled in her stomach as she pulled her phone out and called William. Her eyes watched him intently as he looked at the phone and his eyes grew wide. He politely excused himself from the girl in front of him and walked out the front doors. Before he could answer the phone he came face to face with Amelia. She hung up and stared at him, not wanting to break her tough exterior. “How long has that been going on?” She pointed at the girl sitting alone at the table he had previously been at.

           His head dropped, realizing he had been caught. He ran a finger under his nose, “Four months.” Amelia closed her eyes and swallowed. Without saying another word, she turned on her toes and walked back to her mom’s car, which she had so generously let Amelia borrow. William tried to run after Amelia, but Amelia drove away before he could get to her. Amelia drove in hysterics, not wanting to go home, but not knowing where else to go. Suddenly, she found herself sitting in front of Calum’s house, crying with her head in between her hands on the steering wheel, not convinced this is where she should’ve gone. Without thinking, she made her way to the door, trying to compose herself. Her finger reluctantly pressed the button for the doorbell and she waited.

           After a few seconds she thought about turning around and walking back to the car, but the thought was interrupted when the door opened. Amelia frantically wiped away her tears when she saw Calum’s mom standing in the door way. “Uh, hello, Joy. Is Calum here?” Joy nodded and told her to come inside. As Amelia stood in the doorway, Joy went off to find her son. Amelia could hear them talking, they were talking in hushed tones, but suddenly Calum came flying down the stairs. Amelia burst into tears at the sight of him, covering her face with her hands. His heart was racing, seeing her standing there, looking so broken. Even though he didn’t have a single clue what was going on, all he wanted to do was hold her and tell her everything was going to be okay. “I’m sorry Calum, I’m sorry for everything. I’m sorry for telling you we shouldn’t talk, I’m sorry for coming here like this.” He stopped in front of her, watching as her chest heaved with every sob. She shook her hands trying to get all the words out, “William has been cheating on me for four months and I just found out and I didn’t know where else to go.” Amelia pressed her hands to her face again, just as Calum threw his arms around her. His fingertips tingling at the feeling of her skin against the nerves.

           Calum smoothed down Amelia’s hair while placing his chin on her head. He tried to calm her down by shushing her, but she continued to sob into his chest. He let her cry, it’s what she needed, and in a weird way, it’s what he needed. He needed her in his arms again, he needed to feel her skin again. Finally, she stopped crying long enough that he could take her to his bedroom. He placed his hands on her shoulder, directing her to sit on his bed. Amelia followed his direction and Calum squatted to take her shoes off for her. As Calum placed her shoes neatly off to the side, she pulled her legs up and sat crisscrossed on his bed, putting her hand in her lap so her dress didn’t show anything inappropriate. She watched him as he walked into the bathroom and came out with a damp towel. He knelt down in front of her and started wiping the makeup that had run down her cheeks. “He was a piece of shit for hurting you like that.” He paused and bit his lip for a second. “I was piece of shit for hurting you like that. You are the most amazing person I’ve ever met. I am so sorry that you have been hurt so much recently. I wish I knew how to make it all up to you.” She nodded, lowering her eyes to her hands. All of this was just a crinkle in the path of life. Calum raised his eyebrows, bringing the towel to the other side of her face, “We’re still best friends, no matter if we talk every day, or not. I still love you and will always be here when you need me, or don’t need me.”

           The words ran circles in her ears. He loved her, and he said it so nonchalantly. She loved him too, he was her best friend, she didn’t know what she would do without him. His brown eyes twinkled in the dull light of his bedroom and her heart skipped a beat. Her stomach filled with butterflies, and for the first time she realized she loved him more than a friend. She pulled her eyebrows together and looked at her hands again. There was no way he loved her back, not in that way. She bit her bottom lip and looked up at Calum who smiled, softly wiping away the tear stains from her cheeks. Once he had completely cleared the running makeup off Amelia’s face, he cupped her cheek and stood up to discard of the towel. Amelia thanked him for taking care of her and Calum gave her a knowing nod, “Of course, sunshine.”

           Calum and Amelia sat on Calum’s bed talking for a while, catching up on what had been missed when they weren’t talking. “I thought William was the one. I was even thinking about how I had doubted if I wanted to move in with him.” She laughed and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Before this all went down, I was sure I was going to move in with him once school ended.” Calum scoffed and raised his eyebrows. “I know, I know. Not only was I wrong, but I was fucking stupid.” Calum laughed at that, putting his hand on her knee. A lightning bolt shooting in both directions. Amelia’s eyes locked with Calum’s and he pulled his hand away, afraid of what she was going to say. It was then that Amelia noticed the time and they started to say their goodbyes to each other.

         They walked down the hallways together while they continued talking. Calum still had a bit more traveling to do before he was home for a while. He had every plan of swiping Amelia off her feet before he left for another tour in April. Amelia still had one year left of school, and by the time Calum will get back from his next tour, she’ll be a few months from finishing. Calum watched Amelia as she walked to her car, her shoes clacking every time they made contact with the cement. His stomach flipped as he thought about running after her and pulling her in for a kiss. Now would be a better time than ever, but he shook his head. She just found out the guy she was head over heels for was cheating on her. Amelia sat in the driver’s seat and tucked her hair behind her ear, stomach filling with butterflies at the thought of Calum watching her. Amelia sent Calum a one handed wave and started the car.

           Calum waved back at Amelia and watched her drive off before turning back into his house and sighing. When Calum shut the door to his bedroom, he wondered how anyone could hurt a girl like her the way William did. Calum knew he could protect her from ever feeling that kind of pain again, if only he had the guts to say anything to her about his feelings. When they first met at the beginning of the year, he just wanted to be her friend, but as time goes by, all he wants is to be able to kiss her and hold her whenever he wants. Calum dropped onto his bed and looked at his phone, the same picture of her on his background, something he never wanted to change, even if she tried to push him away.

* * *

           Ashton threw a party to celebrate the end of the tour and one of the first people he invited was Amelia, knowing how badly his friend wanted her there. Calum would never admit it out loud, but Ashton knew Calum was in love with her. He could see it in his eyes whenever he talked to her over the phone. Amelia showed up about a half hour late, even though she was usually the first one to arrive. Amelia told her mom that this time she didn’t want to be the first one there. Amelia had to park down the street from Ashton’s house, and even from down the street, she could hear the music. As she approached, the music only got louder, and she could hear all of the people chatting and laughing. Parties had never been her scene, she had gone to a few with William, and she always begged him to take her home. This one was different though, she wanted to see Calum and finally tell Calum how she felt. Amelia even dressed confidently, a plaid dress, knee high heeled boots. She was radiating in confidence.

           The door was unlocked, so she let herself in. She was met with people she didn’t know standing almost shoulder to shoulder. It was then that the confidence slowly started to wear off. As she took a deep breath she found her way through the crowd in the attempt to find Calum. As she swam through the crowd, a hand grabbed her arm. Hoping it was Calum, she turned with a smile plastered on her face. Not like it was disappointing, but her smile faded a bit when she turned and saw Ashton. Ashton pulled her into a hug and thanked her for coming. Amelia yelled into Ashton’s ear wondering if he had seen Calum. “The last I saw him he was outside on the deck.” He yelled back, smiling at her. With a nod, she pushed her way through the rest of the crowd and finally reached the back door. The confidence had faded, but the second she saw Calum leaning against the railing of the deck, every bit of confidence came flowing back. She took a step forward and Calum turned as if someone called his name, his eyes lit up and a smile stretched across his face and an electric red haired girl walked up to him and wrapped her arm around his waist. Amelia froze and her confidence shattered into a million pieces when Calum leaned down and pressed his lips against hers. Amelia dropped her hands to her side and turned wanting to leave the party immediately.

           If there hadn’t been such a large crowd, she would’ve made it, however Calum had spotted her and ran inside to grab her wrist before she walked out. She turned around and faked a smile. Calum smiled back at her, noting how beautiful she looked. “Hey,” He said pulling her into a hug. Amelia squeezed him, wanting to never let go of him. The way his body felt against hers was everything she’s ever wanted. He pulled out of the hug and placed his hands on her shoulders, “I wasn’t sure if you were actually going to come. Come with me, I want you to meet someone.” She knew who he wanted her to meet, and she definitely didn’t want to meet her. Amelia held onto Calum’s hand, wishing that he was holding onto her hand for another reason besides introducing her to the girl he just kissed. Calum pulled her behind him onto the deck. It was a beautiful night, but Amelia was sure it would be better if she had been able to tell Calum what she came here to tell him. “Amelia this is Felicity, she’s my girlfriend.” The word tugged at Amelia’s heart, but she forced a smile, “Felicity, this is Amelia, my best friend.”

           Felicity stretched her hand out with a huge smile across her face. “It’s so nice to finally meet you, Calum has told me a lot about you.” Amelia shook her hand and returned the greeting. Calum draped his hand over Felicity’s shoulder and leaned against the railing, facing Amelia. Calum couldn’t take his eyes off Amelia. She was radiant, glowing almost, for the first time since he met Felicity, his confidence in his love life was starting to fade. Felicity talked to Amelia as is she had known her for as long as Calum has. As Felicity spoke, Calum couldn’t help but think maybe he was with the wrong girl. It should be Amelia under his arm, but he also really liked Felicity. Calum looked at his feet and shook his head. Felicity continued to talk to Amelia, barely giving Amelia a chance to say anything back. Amelia watched Calum, his eyes sparkled, his hair losing the blonde streaks she had told him she liked so much. Amelia tried to stay interested in Felicity’s conversation, but all she wanted to do was leave and go home.

           Amelia was suddenly tired of pretending, she interrupted Felicity, putting her hand in the air, “I’m sorry, it was nice to meet you, but I’m going to head inside and find Ashton, I haven’t seen him yet, and he’s the one who invited me.” Amelia knew that it was a lie, Calum knew it was a lie too, he had seen her hug Ashton. Calum’s eyebrows furrowed, trying to figure out why she was lying. Amelia waved and headed inside. Calum watched her, he knew where Ashton was and she walked in the opposite direction of him. Calum dropped his arm from around Felicity’s shoulder and took a step forward, wanting to go after her, but Felicity grabbed his hand, telling him it was time to dance.

         Amelia frantically pushed her way through the crowd and through the front door. The tears forming at the bottom of her eyes as she walked towards her car. “Amelia,” Ashton called after her, but she was determined to get the hell out of here. “Amelia.” Ashton ran in front of her, placing a hand on her shoulder to stop her. He saw the tears in her eyes and knew immediately. “Oh god.” He pulled her into a hug and she let the tears fall. “I’m sorry, Amelia. I didn’t know he was going to bring her. They’ve only been together for a short time.” Ashton sighed and soothed her hair down. “You two never seem to be on the same page.”

           Amelia pulled away from Ashton and wiped a few tears. Ashton cupped her cheeks and used his thumb to wipe away the tears that continued to escape. “What do you mean?” Amelia asked, holding a sob in her chest.

           Ashton smiled a soft smile, keeping her as calm as he could. “The way you two talk about each other, and the way you two look at each other. It’s obvious you have feelings for each other, but it always seems like you guys are never on the same page, so you continue to chase each other.” Ashton sighed and shook his head. “I just want you two to be happy. I don’t care if that means you’re best friends or if you’re together. I just want you two to be happy.”

           The sob Amelia had swallowed escaped and the tears started flowing again. “How do you know he feels that way about me? He looks so happy with Felicity.”

           Ashton pulled her into his chest again and shook his head. “I don’t have proof, I just see the way his face looks when he talks to you.” Amelia cried into Ashton’s chest for a minute. When Ashton broke their embrace and ran his thumbs under her eyes. “Can I bring you back to the house so you can clean up? Maybe you can stay a little longer, you and I can dance?” Ashton pulls away from Amelia, busting out his cheesiest dance moves, causing Amelia to laugh. She agreed to go back to the party, only if Ashton hung out with her all night. Ashton grabbed her hand and walked her back to the party.

           Calum saw Amelia and Ashton walk through the door together. He looked over Felicity’s head to catch a glimpse of Amelia. Her makeup had run down her face, but she was smiling. Ashton was holding her hand and saying something that Calum couldn’t make out. Ashton took her up the stairs and Calum’s heart started to race. Felicity reached up and grabbed Calum’s face, pulling his attention back to her. He smiled and gave her all the attention she wanted until he couldn’t take it anymore. He told Felicity that he was going to go get something to drink, the image of Amelia and Ashton going upstairs together still burning in the back of his mind. When he broke away from his girlfriend, he quietly snuck up the stairs, hearing the chatter from the room down the hall. Calum tiptoed so that he could be within ear shot of the room. He heard Amelia’s voice and he stopped, “I guess I just want him to be happy. If he’s happy with Felicity, then that’s great. I’ll let him be happy.”

           Calum knew he wasn’t happy, but being with Felicity was what was safe. Calum so desperately wanted Amelia to be the one who fell asleep in his arms, and the one he could kiss whenever he wanted, but Felicity had shown him a type of love that no one has ever shown him. So, maybe he was happy, just not the happy he wanted. He didn’t want to hear anymore, afraid of what Amelia and Ashton were going talking about. He turned on his heels and headed to the kitchen to grab a drink. Smiling as he found his girlfriend dancing like no one was watching.

           Amelia put her feelings aside while Calum was home, when Calum asked if she wanted to hang out with him, she would make sure Calum asked Felicity if she wanted to come along. Amelia didn’t mind being a third wheel as long as it meant Calum was happy. Even if it meant her heart cracking a little bit every time they kissed, or held hands. Amelia wouldn’t consider herself friends with Felicity, but she made sure to treat her just as she treated Calum.

         Calum ran his hands down his face as he zipped up his suit case for another tour. As happy as he was that their career was taking off, he didn’t feel like he spent nearly enough time with his best friend. She came to the airport to say goodbye, mostly because Ashton had asked her, but she spent the entire time hugging Calum and telling him how much she would miss him. Calum continued to call her every day, and it wasn’t until Felicity saw a certain twinkle in his eyes when they spoke that she realized he’s been in love with her this whole time. Felicity ended their relationship shortly after that. Calum felt a sense of relief but was still hurt. Maybe now he could finally tell Amelia how he felt.

         The day Calum called to tell her everything, Amelia raved about a guy named Brandon she had met at a concert she and some of her friends went to. Calum balled his hand into a fist but pretended he was happy for her. Calum wouldn’t be home for another three months, what was going to happen with Brandon in the three months Calum was gone? Calum’s heart broke every time she talked about him, but what was he supposed to do? He wasn’t there to tell her how much better he would be for her. When Calum and Felicity had gotten together, he changed the background on his phone to Felicity. Now as he changed it back to Amelia, he knew that it was a mistake to ever change it in the first place. He smiled at the picture of her posing with a piece sign and her tongue hanging out. It was a goofy picture she had sent him to show him the outfit she bought for a date with Brandon. He ran a single finger down her picture and hoped that one day he would finally be able to tell her how he felt.

         When Calum got home from the tour, Amelia informed him that she was going to be moving in with Brandon at the beginning of the year. She had just turned eighteen so she was allowed to move out, and he was different than her last boyfriend. Brandon cared, Amelia said. Calum washed his drink back as she told him this, and then faked a big smile telling her how great that sounded. That’s also when Calum told her that they were going on another tour, their success was absolutely taking off, but this time they were only going to be gone for four months. Amelia didn’t want to watch him leave again, and thought maybe now would be a good time to confess her feelings, but she held it in, she was too happy with Brandon to ruin it now. She faked a smile and told him that it was absolutely amazing how their careers were taking off.

         They couldn’t stop lying to each other, at this point their entire friendship was built around lies. Lies that they thought were just to make the other one happy. Once the new year came around, Amelia moved into an apartment in down town Sydney with Brandon, an apartment that Amelia had put the deposit on with the money she had saved up from working a part time retail job after school. With school being over, she moved to full time and worked more often than she would’ve liked. Calum visited her at work every once in a while, just to see her smile. Amelia loved it, and Calum loved seeing her when Brandon wasn’t around. He tried to buy her lunch every day, but Brandon must’ve caught on, because suddenly Amelia had lunch every day. Calum still stopped by every chance he had, no matter how much it pissed her boyfriend off.

         It was two in the morning the day Calum was supposed to leave for their next tour when he decided to call Amelia. When Amelia answered the phone, he spoke with a slur. He was drunk and she sighed “Calum, you’re drunk and it’s two in the morning. What’s going on?”

         “Why are we growing apart? Two years ago, we were the best of friends, nothing could separate us, and now we only talk when I come by your work.” Calum slurred his words and Amelia left the bedroom she shared with her boyfriend. He was yelling for no reason and Amelia did not want to wake Brandon. Brandon highly disliked Calum, but that did not stop Amelia from continuing their friendship.

         The door clicked shut behind Amelia and she walked down the hallway towards the couch. “We’re still best friends, Calum. Nothing is going to separate us.” Amelia sat on the couch, placing her right leg underneath her, “We’re going to be friends until the end of time.” Amelia tried to coax her friend into thinking that everything between them was fine, but Calum was drunk, not stupid.

         “You’re lying to me. We’re not going to be friends until the end. I don’t want that.” Calum blurted out, not thinking about his words, the alcohol dissolving his internal filter. He closed his eyes and pressed his palms into his eyes, knowing that was the wrong thing to say, and not wanting to finish his thought and making it worse.

         Amelia’s heart raced, she wanted to know what he meant. Why didn’t he want to be friends with her until the end? Tears started to well in Amelia’s eyes and her breath hitched in her chest. “Calum, I think you should get some sleep. You’re drunk and you leave for your tour in the morning. Call me when you get to your hotel, okay?” She said through a sob, Calum too drunk to notice her hurt. There was silence on the other end and Amelia nervously waited for his response.

         “Okay, sunshine. I love you, ‘Melia. Sleep tight.” Amelia sighed and nodded as if he could see her. She placed a hand over her mouth, muffling another sob.

         She moved her hand off her mouth and dried her face, “I love you too, Calum. I’ll talk to you later.” Amelia hung up her phone and tossed it onto the couch. The tears started to fall as she ran both her hands down her face. The tears flowed and she sat on the couch crying for a couple minutes before making her way back to her bedroom, and calling it a night.

[shall-we-imagine]

And I'll still love you. (Klaus Goldstein x Reader *AU*)

Sequel to Mess me up.

In which Klaus gets back with his ex.

Jk I'd never 😂👌🏻

Genre: Angst/some fluff?

A/N: This is long, and I mean long, so strap yourselves in I guess? CuZ iTs A lOnG aSs RiDe (A Mark Lee tribute 👌🏻)

Also guys we have a lil Cedric (from BIR) cameo here so um idk there's that ig 😂😂

(Second Person Point of View)

"Okay, one day left till finals; you guys know what that means!" Zeus smirks, though the only one that knew what that means was apparently Luca.

"This time; we're not getting kicked out of the VIP lounge." Luca points an accusing finger at Zeus.

"It's not my fault you lied about our identities without letting me know that I was a famous producer and not just a fucking college student!" Zeus growls.

The intense argument only grew louder from the two opposite sides of the table, isolating you and Klaus from the rest of the group in a strange way. Everyone knew to ignore when Luca and Zeus started arguing, so Amelia and Guy - on the other side of the table - were already having a separate conversation, leaving you and Klaus in an awkward silence (If you ignore the two yelling dorks, of course).

As frustrating as the awkwardness is, you'd already decided to ignore the blond ever since the incident, and no amount of awkward can change that.

It'd been around five days since you even looked him in the face, and he didn't seem to be planning to fix anything. Sure, he constantly looks uncomfortable, and you're sure he knows he fucked up, but that doesn't change his lack of attempts to even apologise properly.

"Hey, what's up, you guys?" Scarlett beams, sitting next to you. Elias, Yukiya, and Augustus take seats around the table as well. "Sigurd's still busy with some work at the library, but he'll be here soon." She announces.

"Anyway, this time we're not going into the VIP lounge; you can get kicked out alone if you want to, but I'd like to keep my dignity!" Zeus crosses his arms.

"Which club are we visiting anyway?" Luca looks around the table.

"None! We're supposed to be studying!" Klaus snaps, earning confused looks from everyone. Sure, it was a logical statement, but his sudden outburst left everyone at a loss of words.

"Don't be such a killjoy." Sigurd's voice is followed by a chuckle. He places himself in the empty seat between you and Klaus; however, you could still feel Klaus stare at you for a bit after it.

"He's right though. Finals start in like two days.." Yukiya states, to which Elias nods.

"Yeah, I need to revise." The younger blond agrees.

"It starts in a week for Amelia, Guy, Augustus, and I." Scarlett shrugs.

"Yeah, we're in." Guy grins.

"Sorry, guys, I don't think Yukiya and I will be joining; we still have stuff to study." Elias gives one of those polite frowns, where you know he's not disappointed about missing out on any of that. Knowing Elias, you can tell he's probably pleased to spend his day in a library instead of a club, and normally, you'd agree; you enjoy peace, and it's never too fun to be in crowded places.

However, you need to do something fun to get your mind off of Klaus. If he's gonna be a dick then so be it; you have to move on.

"I'm coming." You shrug. Part of you wanted to turn to check Klaus's reaction, but you stayed composed.

"What?!" He semi-shouts, but immediately clasps his hand over his mouth, clearly embarrassed by his accidentally loud reaction. He clears his throat, "I mean, you're in the same uni as these dumbasses and I; you start finals the day after tomorrow! What do you mean you'll go clubbing today? You should be studying!"

"What makes you think I have any studying left? I'm already done." You weren't gonna bring it up. You really weren't. Not in front of everyone too, but before you could think it through, you found yourself quoting him from that night. And it wasn't a lie either, you spent your days binge studying to keep your mind busy, so at this point, you really needed something else to keep you occupied.

Something flashes in his eyes, recognition maybe: you weren't sure, but either way, he stays silent. And perhaps you should've left it at that, but the built up anger inside you is now clawing its way out.

"Plus, even if I haven't finished studying; what is it to you?! Who even are you to object and involve yourself in my life?! Mind your own business!" He, once again, doesn't respond, but this time it wasn't because he was caught off guard. He just seemed slightly broken, but in the midst of the fury and anguish you felt, you couldn't care that much.

"Um, what's up with the weird tension between you guys?" Zeus lets out a nervous laugh. If Zeus was giving nervous laughs then it was definitely obvious to everyone how serious whatever is between you and Klaus.

"Haven't you two been ignoring each other a bit too? Like you guys used to be super close." Augustus points out.

Amelia's eyes meet yours, and she immediately gets the memo. "You guys are crazy; they're fine! They've always argued a lot; it's how they are! Can we focus on who's coming and who's not?" You give her a small smile, as to say thank you.

Scarlett catches on to the silent conversation between you and Amelia, immediately joining in. "Yeah, don't worry too much; we've seen it happen a lot! So, yeah, let's just focus on what's important here."

"Uh, sure." Zeus lets it go. Luca, Guy, and Augustus were smarter than that, unfortunately; they remained skeptic. Regardless, none of them make any further comments.

"I've also done my studying, so I'm good to go, as well." Sigurd shoots you a wink, earning a giggle in return. A genuine one, which you were thankful for. It made you relax a little after that rage you let loose on the blond jerk.

Klaus slams his fist on the table, "Fine. I'm coming too."

"Man, could you fucking chill; you're starting to sound scary. More so than normal." Luca complains but moves on to deciding the time and place to meet.

Your eyes drift to Klaus, who was already looking. You quickly look away, unsure why your heart suddenly leaped into your throat.

You avoided looking in his direction for the rest of the gathering.

▪︎▪︎▪︎

"You're not gonna tell me what's up with you and Klaus?" Scarlett glances at you before looking back at her own reflection and applying highlighter.

Amelia sticks her head out the bathroom door, one eye lined perfectly till the wing while the other was left with a random stray streak as if she rushed to the door at hearing Scarlett's statement, and in the process fucked over her left eye. Of course you know that's exactly what she did.

"Um, excuse you? I think you mean us??"

Scarlett sighs, "You're not gonna tell us what's up with you and Klaus?"

"Nothing." You apply your favourite lipstick, absolutely pleased it goes perfectly with your dress. At least one thing is going right here.

Scarlett frowns slightly, but doesn't push it.

"You're so full of shit." Amelia chuckles before pulling herself back inside.

You roll your eyes at her, but a small smile tugs at your lips.

"Who's picking us up?" You wonder.

Scarlett clears her throat. "Well, we initially asked Sigurd, I swear, but...well, um, Klaus insisted..."

"That's fine." You put on your best nonchalant expression.

As if he calculated exactly when to arrive, Klaus calls Amelia's phone the second you're done fixing your hair, aka the last step to getting ready. Excluding shoes, of course.

"Can someone pick up? My hands are busy!" Amelia yells from the bathroom.

You glance at Scarlett. Also still busy.

Not wanting to sound even more suspicious, you force yourself to pick up. "Hello?"

"He-..(Y/N)?"

You swallow awkwardly, "um, yeah, they're not done yet. Are you here? Like, um, to pick us up?"

"No, I'm here to hand you your mail, (Y/N)." You don't need to see him to know he's rolling his eyes.

"I meant are you here already?"

"Yeah."

Amelia sticks her head outside the bathroom again, this time with both eyes looking perfect. "Invite him up here." She smirks, wiggling her eyebrows. "Unless, of course, you have a problem with Klaus being in your apartment."

You throw a pillow, and it barely misses her face.

"Hey! That could've ruined my make up!" She yells but doesn't come back out again.

You considered inviting him like she said, but just the thought of it brought back too many unwelcomed memories. You blushed and immediately decided against it.

"Hello?"

"Oh, sorry, um, I'll just come down and keep your company till they're done, okay? Bye!" You hang up, leaving him no chance to reply. It was already awkward enough.

You slip your feet into your high heels, grab your purse, and head outside- not forgetting to remind the girls to lock the door before leaving.

If it were for you to decide, you'd let the jerk rot in his car as he waits for the three of you, but for the sake of letting things go smoothly, you decide it's for the best to try to make it seem like you don't wanna punch Klaus in the face.

Quickly enough, you spot his car. Also quickly enough, you notice the familiar fluffy, blonde curls you were so used to running your hands through. He looks as handsome as usual, but that hurt you in a different way this time. Sure, everytime you noticed how attracted to him you are, you'd be upset, solely because he's not yours to admire this way. However, today, it hurts you because everytime you look at these perfectly drawn features, a few written words come to mind.

He notices your presence but says nothing. He just stares at you with an unreadable expression.

Not wanting to look odd just standing in front of your building's door, you stiffly walk to his car as fast as you can without face planting into cement.

You take a back seat and say nothing.

Klaus lets out a slight, humourless laugh. "What's that? A back seat? You always call shotgun."

"Wasn't feeling it." You shrug and pull out your phone, using it as your own personal don't talk to me sign.

Unfortunately, Klaus doesn't care about any signs you're giving if it doesn't match his desires. "You look pretty, but with a dress like that, people will mistake you for a prostitute. Couldn't you wear something more revealing??" His voice dripped with irritation, an irritation you couldn't understand.

"Excuse me? My dress is fine; not everyone is a pervert, but you wouldn't know, would you?!" You clap back, not in the mood to let him take out his anger on you.

"Are you trying to call me a pervert?" He laughs in disbelief.

"I didn't say that, but, hey, if the shoe fits, feel free to wear it."

"That's what I get for trying to make sure no one hurts you?" He complains.

"Well, too bad you already did." You spat, tears blinding you momentarily. You hated yourself for letting this escape your lips, but it ended up silencing both of you for a few moments, allowing you to regain composure before the girls hop into the car.

"Uh, what's up with the weird vibe?" Amelia raises an eyebrow.

Scarlett sighs from the front seat, "I don't even know anymore."

Neither Klaus or you respond, so, naturally, the conversation died, leading to a rather quiet ride, excluding Scarlett and Amelia's countless attempts at making it less awkward.

"Finally! I felt like I'd suffocate inside from the tension!" Amelia stretches her arms happily once she leaves the car. It's safe to say...she wasn't the only one happy to exit the metal cage of awkward.

You meet up with the rest of the group before going inside, which wasn't all that helpful, since you lost each other fairly quickly.

Thankfully, Amelia and Scarlett were still with you, and finally, you were ready to block all thoughts of a certain blond and enjoy your life for the time being.

As planned, the three of you were already singing and dancing your hearts out after a few drinks, not a care in the world. You didn't have time to think about what Klaus is doing or how much of a dick he was to you.

Well, until a familiar guy approaches you. And perhaps Klaus shouldn't have been the one your mind drifted to, but that didn't stop you from letting the blond you'd ignored all year try to flirt with you for the billionth time.

"(Y/N)! Didn't think I'd see you here!" Cedric yells over the music.

You tried your best not to roll your eyes, "Yeah, me neither."

"Wanna dance?"

"I'm sure you can see I'm already danc-" both girls nudge you. "Sure. I'd love to dance." You force a smile, not skipping glaring at the girls before following Cedric a little further away from them. You weren't sure why he dragged you away, but you also couldn't care less; being near him was already annoying enough, so it really didn't matter.

The only reason you found yourself agreeing to this nonsense is that you know how much Klaus dislikes it when Cedric flirts with you. He always claimed that Cedric only cares about looks and that you should stay away from him, which normally you do. Mostly because you don't enjoy his personality, or the lack thereof.

However, something about being with the guy Klaus would most hate for you to be with just made you feel pleasure. It was like you wanted to piss him off, even though he really couldn't see you anyway, but you so desperately wish he would.

The dancing got really awkward really quickly. Cedric was already getting touchy, and he didn't seem to catch on to how uncomfortable you felt.

"Could you not fucking do that?!" You aggressively push his hand away from you.

He frowns, "Do what? We're just dancing together. You agreed to that."

"I didn't agree to you groping me though, did I?"

Before he could respond, your eyes drifted to Klaus, who was sitting at the bar. He'd just spotted you.

And maybe common sense would say to just ignore him.

But no.

You look Cedric in the eye, pull his face closer to you, and smash your lips together. You can tell he was confused but quickly recovered, using both hands to pull you closer to him by the waist.

This could've went on for longer if you weren't harshly yanked away from the blond.

"What's wrong with you?!" You try to pull your arm away from Klaus's grasp, but the furious male didn't budge. He didn't even respond; he just pulled you away.

"Klaus! Let go!" You try to wriggle your arm out of his grip. As annoyed as you acted, a huge part of you was extremely giddy. You can tell he's furious, and as sadistic as it sounds, it makes you happy. Your mind didn't seem to catch on to how awkward it would be next time you see Cedric; all it could focus on was that Klaus is jealous.

He only lets go of you outside the club; the sudden change of temperature causes your skin to tingle with goosebumps. You rub your arms to keep yourself warm.

"Bloody hell. I told you that dress wasn't a good idea." Aggressively, he marches to his car and opens the trunk. He pulls out a jacket and wraps it around you.

Blushing lightly, you clear your throat. "Um, thanks."

"I'm not done. What the fuck were you doing with Cedric, (Y/N)?!"

You roll your eyes. "Exactly what you saw."

He nods, letting out a humorless laugh. "Okay. Let me rephrase that: why the fuck were you kissing Cedric?"

Smirking, you poke his chest and whisper, "Because I wanted to."

He grips your hand, "No, (Y/N), you didn't. You hate that guy."

"Well, why does it matter? Why do you care?" You pull away.

He stares at you in silence for a few seconds. "Get in the car."

Not even waiting for a reply, Klaus walks over to the driver's seat.

"What?!"

"I said get in the car. Passenger's seat this time." He shuts the car door.

You snap out of your confusion when his engine roars, pestering you to get moving. You rush and follow his instructions of not sitting in the back seat.

"Where are we going?" You ask.

"You'll see." And with that, neither one of you spoke a word to the other.

***

"I'm not going for a swim with you, Klaus." The moment your gaze met the familiar lake, you were ready to bawl your eyes out, but you kept it together.

Leaving his seat, Klaus sighs. "Calm down. We're here to talk. Like we always do."

Leaving his jacket in the car, you take a deep breath and try to hold yourself together. You can't just break down now. You block away the memories of every other time you and Klaus came to this place.

You sit down on the grass but make sure to keep a distance between you and the male.

"Because it wasn't obvious enough that you're mad." He sighs.

"What do you want, Klaus?"

He looks away, "It's more about what I don't want...I don't want to lose you."

The butterflies went wild in your stomach, leaving you with a clear shade of pink on your cheeks. However, this isn't enough for you to move on and forgive him, so you do your best to keep a stern look.

"Why did you lie to me, Klaus? You don't have feelings for me, and...and I already knew, but part of me wanted to believe you, and you weren't making it very easy to reject you. You could tell I had a crush on you, and you decide to manipulate me into having sex with you?! And you have the guts to criticize Cedric? You're even worse!" Well, there goes your perfect make up. Perhaps raccoon eyes could be the new trend; you can totally pull that off.

His eyes glisten, and you almost want to take back everything, but you have to stand up for yourself. He can't just walk all over you like you're the old weelcome doormat some unknown person placed in front of your apartment door. Who the fuck misspells Welcome? Why the fuck would anyone buy that? Why place it in front of your apartment? Why haven't you thrown it away? All unimportant thoughts you'd rather talk about right now than have to deal with Klaus and this emotional mess.

"I didn't lie to you. And you went out of your way to kiss that douche bag, didn't you? You wanted me to see."

"Are you fucking kidding me, Klaus?! You're trying to make it sound like I'm wrong now?!" You push yourself off the ground, the blond immediately following.

"Listen, okay? This isn't what I meant! I just- I'm still being petty about it, alright? I wanted to punch him square in the face."

"Well, you have no right to be even mildly annoyed. Leave me alone." You start walking away, but he gets a hold of your arm.

"(Y/N), could you just let me explain myself, please?!" He snaps.

"No, Klaus, all you do is blame me; fuck off." You push him away. What you didn't prepare for is stumbling backwards towards the lake. High heels deciding to join The Klaus Movement of Being a Dick to (Y/N), you quickly find yourself falling off the edge.

Panic-filled eyes follow your movements. Klaus's reaction came late, and by the time he grabbed you, he was already falling into the freezing cold water with you.

Surrounded by fear of drowning, you involuntarily call out for Klaus.

"(Y/N)?! (Y/N)!" Klaus's nervous voice echoes around you, but in the middle of trying to stay afloat, you couldn't decide where he was.

So, naturally, he had to be the one to find you. His arms wrap around you, trying to pull you closer to him, but the way you kept flailing your arms wasn't helping him. "Hey, hey, (Y/N), it's fine."

Eventually he was able to snap you out of it and hold you close to his chest. "There, it's okay. You're safe with me. You know I'll always make sure nothing hurts you."

You'd begun to calm down, you'd begun to forget about the dumb note, about him manipulating you; you'd started relaxing in his embrace, but his last statement brought you back to real life. "Let me go, Klaus." You try to pry yourself away from him.

"(Y/N), you can't swim! What are you doing?!"

"Just let me go, Klaus! I'm fine!"

"Didn't seem like it when you started calling for me!"

"It was a mistake! Just let me be!" You begin pushing him away again.

"(Y/N), fucking stop! You'll hurt yourself!" He grips your wrist tightly.

"Fine!" You stop struggling. "Just take me to the edge."

He remains silent. "You're not gonna leave the second I put you back up on land, are you?"

"What? Of course I will! I can't stand looking at your face." You turn your face to the side.

"That so?"

You roll your eyes and begin facing him. "Ye-"

He forces his lips onto yours, leading you to push him away with all your force, this time allowing you to break free from his grasp and latching onto the edge.

Furious, you find extra energy to easily pull yourself up and onto the grass. Unfortunately, your strength was immediately gone after, and this is when you couldn't take any of it anymore. You lost it all.

"Why do you keep ruining my life? I never asked for this." You sob. "Tonight, all I wanted was to have fun and forget about you, but no, you had to ruin things for me again! Look at me! My hair, my make up, my dress, my whole fucking night is a mess! And it's because of you!" You point an accusing finger at him.

His head drops in shame, and he slowly climbs to the edge near you. You start to get up but stop when you hear his shaky voice.

"Wait! Please..." His voice cracks, "I won't touch you anymore. I will drive you home. Just please...please let me explain first; hear me out."

"Get it over with, Goldstein." You cross your arms. You were starting to feel cold again, but you made sure to not make it obvious this time.

"Listen; I didn't lie. I genuinely felt attracted to you; in fact, I have been for the longest time. It's just that I'd already accepted we were merely friends, and I had to move on, and I figured the only way to truly stop viewing you romantically is to commit to someone, so when I found someone I was remotely interested in, I took it as a chance, but then suddenly, everything was gone. I didn't have her; I didn't have you. I didn't have anything." He takes a shaky breath. "And...and I came to you for comfort, but before I knew it, I was trying to get you to do what you clearly didn't want to do. It was selfish; I know. And by morning, I felt disgusting. I knew you wouldn't wanna look me in the face, so I left. I wanted to apologize, but you continued to ignore me, and if I'm being honest, I was also scared to confront you."

"Klaus-"

"Just let me finish." He sighs. "I'm not trying to say I'm not wrong. I am. I just want you to know I would never intentionally hurt you; I was just confused. I was heartbroken; I still had feelings for you; you let me have my way with you. I never knew you were actually into me as well. And when you ignored me, I just wanted to do anything to get your attention. Even if it meant to piss you off...which I suppose you got back at me by getting with Cedric, but that's not the point. You're right I don't have the right to be mad over it. It's just- everything just ended terribly, and I know everything is a mess, but I promise you I never meant to hurt you."

"I don't want to lose you." He starts sobbing, but Klaus being his prideful self, he quickly does his best to hold back.

You shouldn't brush everything off. He was wrong, and he hurt you. But seeing him trembling like that, you couldn't stop yourself from taking him into your arms. "I forgive you." You mumble.

"You do?" He perks up, looking at you with wide eyes.

"Yeah...I understand. Feelings can be confusing at times." You shrug. "Also...you never forced me into something I didn't want to do...I thought you knew I liked you?"

"Me?" He furrows his eyebrows.

"Yeah? You literally said it?" You let out a confused laugh.

Klaus pulls away from you. "When did I ever say that?"

"You were drunk; you said you knew I like you."

"Oh...that's just something I say...to everyone...when I'm drunk..." He rubs his temples in embarrassment.

You laugh. "Well, it's not like you're any less narcissistic when not drunk anyway."

"Hey! Watch it! I could still push you back into the water!"

"Shut up. You literally freaked the hell out when I fell the first time." You get off the grass.

He follows. "Not true."

"Yes true."

"Nope."

"Yup."

Well, maybe two stubborn people shouldn't be friends because this went on for a while. You were glad, however, that the tension between you guys was gone, and you two were back to normal again.

"Wanna go back to my apartment this time?" Klaus smirks before quickly adding, "Promise you won't be waking up to any notes this time...?"

Your face heats up. He was still recovering from a break up. This was still a bad idea. You should just decline and take things slow.

"Sure."

[totallytubulargirl]

Aversion (Donatello X Reader)

Rating: R for rusty crusty and dusty (lmao also for the sex)

Universe: 2016

Who: Donatello x Reader (oneshot)

Age of the TMNT: 19

Authors note: Hi! I have lots of stuff done but have been feeling really insecure about my writing so I haven’t posted any of it, sorry ! This was steamy to write also thanks to everyone in the discord chat for taking a look at the rough draft :P You can DM me for an invite link! Also I’m messing with the text to see if it adds to the reading experience, let me know (:

Summary: You seek refuge from the heat above ground but find the same heat between you and Donatello underground. He’s afraid to hurt you but wants to make love to you so badly, how will you relieve the tension?

It was a hot summer day, the ground was sticky and the earth seemed to be radiating heat from the skies and beneath the dirt. The city was the meat in between, compressed into a heat sandwich. [Y/N] hated to be out and about in the concrete jungle that was New York City with this kind of weather but she was seeking refuge, where she knew it might be cooler. She walked into an almost empty alley, skirt still against her thighs as sweat beaded down her neck onto her chest. She panted heavily as she removed the heavy metal plate that lay on top of the manholes. An old man stood at the back door of his small apartment watching the girl climb into the sewers, but it was too hot for him to care and too bizarre a sight for him to even know if it was real, or just an illusion that came and went with the heat. She climbed down the damp steel ladder, and almost immediately felt better. There was a light next to her, but the rest of the sewer was cold and dark. A good sign; usually lights meant sewer maintenance people with questions. She ignored the awful smell and stood a moment to catch her breath. Her lungs filled with the cool air and she felt better. She stood on a platform, looking around, just above the running stream of gross things. God I hate the dark, she thought.

“Boo!” Yelled Michelangelo, pouncing on her from the shadows. She screamed, punching his chest in self-defense, before she knew what she was doing.

“Ow!” She yelped. His plastron felt like rock and her small knuckles were no match.

“Are you ok!?” He covered his mouth with both hands, a little out of shock but mostly so he wouldn’t laugh out loud at her misery. She rubbed her knuckles and whimpered, although her ego was more bruised then her hand.

“Mikey!” She scolded, “what are you doing here?” He giggled a little before composing himself.

“I was riding my skateboard down here when I saw someone coming down,” he explained. “Sorry.” She smacked his arm lightly and he lost his composure, breaking into laughter once again,

“Oh whatever, you are not sorry,” another whimper escaped her thin lips. Michelangelo was still stifling laughter.

“Let me walk you to our place to make up for it,” he grinned. She intertwined her arm with his,

“Well it would only be fair,” she looked at him content in making him suffer by taking the long walk back. He slid his skateboard onto his shell, clicking on a light attached to his side, so they could see where they were going.

“So is it getting hot up there?” He casually asked.

“Unbearable,” she gasped, grateful to be underground where the air didn’t seem as thick.

“I’ve heard things are getting pretty hot down here too,” Mikey teased and she rolled her eyes. She knew he was referring to her and Donatello. She was glad for the darkness lest Mikey see her cheeks giving away her embarrassment.

“I mean hot enough,” she bit her lip nervously. It wasn’t that there wasn’t anything going on. “I know we’ve been dating forever,” she sighed, unable to explain it to Mikey. “But it’s really not like that.”

“Why not?” Mikey asked, kicking rocks at his feet as they walked, not really paying attention. She took a deep breath in preparation of the emotionally exhausting mess she was about to dump on Michelangelo.

“It’s not like we haven’t done stuff,” she looked down at her flip flops scraping against the damp cement in the dim light of the sewer. “We do lots of stuff,” she sighed hesitantly. “Just not it.”

“Oh, I know,” Mikey giggled, focusing on his rocks. “Donatello talks about it all the time,” he glanced at her for a second before losing focus again. “Trust me, he really wants to do it,” he said bluntly. Michelangelo was never one to keep secrets. She blushed but needed to know more. [Y/N] could hear her own heart pulsating loudly in her ears, she wondered if Mikey could hear it.

“I’m the one who keeps-“ she cut herself off before looking around, hoping no one else even had the chance of hearing her. “I’m basically begging him to sleep with me at this point,” she whispered. Mikey burst out laughing. “You’re rude!” She let go of his arm and smacked it.

“No,” he stopped, bending over to laugh. “I just-“ he wiped a tear from his eye. “You beg Donnie for sex?” He questioned her. She felt so embarrassed, hating to repeat it,

“Yeah so?”

“The thought of you begging anyone is ridiculous,” he couldn’t help it. “But especially Donnie?” He wiped a tear from his eye. “He’s such a dork!” He exclaimed, “I would betray my brother and have sex with you right now,” he chuckled, “and I still think it would be worth it.” She laughed, knowing that he was just trying to cheer her up.

“He’s just afraid of hurting me,” she said as politely as she could. Donatello was afraid that he would be too eager too soon, that she would never be able to handle a being of his size, and he would never be able to control himself. Mikey laughed some more,

“You should see Raphael!” She laughed, knowing that Mikey was just trying to get her to smile, or was he? She shook the thought from her head as they finally approached the entrance of the lair. “Listen,” he said, with steady eyes. “I know Donnie can be weird but you should remember,” Mikey crouched down and finally picked up the rocks he had been kicking down the sewer the whole way home. He suddenly took on Master Splinter's accent, “In matters of style, swim with the current,” he let a couple of stones go with the stream that ran at her feet. “But in matters of principle, stand like a rock.” He placed the heaviest rock in the water and she watched the stream run over it, but it sat, unwavering.

“Damn, Michelangelo!” She exclaimed, impressed with the wisdom he was able to convey. He laughed, suddenly himself again.

”Wait, what just happened?” He pointed to the inside of their home before she could say anything else, “pizza?”

“Actually,” she walked in, seeing Raphael and Leonardo sitting at the table right away. “Hi guys, I’m just going to go see Donatello.” She waved to the three boys and walked towards his lab, where she assumed he would be. She could feel her heartbeat speeding up and her toes instinctively curl in her shoes and she stopped in her tracks. What would she even say to him? She wanted him, she wanted him so bad she could practically jump out of the clothes she was standing in. She took a deep breath in order to slow her heartbeat down. She didn’t know what she would do or say when she saw him, all she was sure of was what she wanted from him. She forced open the rusted door that seperated Donatello from the world, the one that always kept him in his lab for so long. [Y/N] could hear soft muffles coming from somewhere in the darkened room. She stepped in as Donatello fumbled off of his chair, things crashing onto the floor around him, “Donnie!” She reached for him but he stood up, his shell turned to her. The door shut behind her and a table lamp lit the room poorly.

“Uh- I didn’t-” she could see him buttoning up his pants up and looked to his screen only to see a picture she had sent him of her in the bath earlier in the week.

“Donatello!” She exclaimed when she realized what he was doing. “This is crazy!” She approached him. He turned towards her, unable to make eye contact. “I’m here for you,” she blushed. “I can be what you want me to be.” She could feel tears burning behind her eyes but she refused to cry in front of him, especially because of this. She crossed her arms. Michelangelo was right, she shouldn’t have to beg anyone for anything.

“You’re everything i’ve ever wanted,” he said softly, still staring at the ground. “That’s the problem.” She took a step towards him.

“But Donnie,” she cooed. He knew what that voice mean as it had led to so many things before. He stepped back and fell onto his chair. She reluctantly sat on top of him, reaching into his already unbuttoned pants, gripping him at the base of his cock, and running her palms along his shaft. Her hands were damp but it came in handy. “I want you so bad.” He could feel the heat in her breath against his mouth. Donnie was afraid but he wanted her too,

“I want you too but-“ Donatello could almost fall for the hypnotizing way her hair swirled up and around his shoulder. He shook his head but even that wouldn’t clear away his thoughts, “I can’t,” he gasped as the tip of his cock poked through her hands again and again. “We can’t,” he balled his fists and his toes curled. “It’s a physical-” his head spun. “It’s a physical-“ She went for his neck dragging her tongue up his jawline as her hands went faster and faster,

“Please Donnie.” She whimpered and his heart swelled with need. She just wanted to try; he leaned back allowing her to spread her legs wide over his lap. Her pink skirt gave way against her thighs but her panties were stuck around her knees.

“Here let me just-” Donnie fidgeted with her panties before deciding it was ruining the mood and just ripped them off, “there.”

“Fuck.” She tried to hold back but she couldn’t help it.

“Sorry,” he feigned but could see the thrill in her eyes as she giggled slightly. Donatello softly took a hold of her chin, looking her in the eyes. “You’re sexy.” He smirked, driving her crazy all over again. She kissed him, slowly dropping herself onto his cock. She could feel his width at her opening and she could already tell he was way bigger than anyone she’d ever had before. With a slight buck of his hips, he broke her threshold.

“Oh fuck!” She couldn’t help it. She dug her nails into his firm biceps, grateful for the scaly armor that kept him from bleeding. His girth pulsed inside of her, pushing her to her limits, but it felt oh so good. She could feel his liquid against her walls, paving the way, melting like warm butter between them. She got halfway down his dick before she lifted herself up and down a few times for relief. She could feel Donnie tighten his grip around her,

“Am I hurting you?” He groaned, genuinely concerned but unable to put many coherent thoughts together. She bit her lip,

“No it feels-,” she let out a moan. “It feels really good.” She said, her face flush with desire. Donatello’s heart swelled with courage and he dared to push a little deeper into her, she slowed her hips down again and rolled into him, taking in all of him. She could feel a slight twang of pain but every other nerve in her body sang of ecstasy, “Don I think I’m gonna-” she raised her hips up and down again making him curse softly. “I’m going to orgasm Donnie.” She whined, trying to keep the rhythm of her hips slow but failing. He wrapped his large hands around her plump ass, grabbing a handful and helping her lift up and down faster and faster, “oh fuck.” She moaned, getting louder. Donatello could feel a warmth balling at the center of his body, “Shit!” She yelled as sweat melded the two into one, bodies entwined with each other and arms wrapped around one another. The heat she had been so desperate to escape manifested itself in her body. Donnie felt an explosion coming from within, as [Y/N] screamed her orgasm into the night. “OAH FUCK DONNNIIIIEE!”

He groaned as his eyes rolled into the back of his head, cum springing from him like a fountain into her warm pussy. He slipped out of her and she slumped against him, panting. She sat with, wrapped in his arms until their breathing matched in rhythm. [Y/N] closed her eyes, laying her head against his plastron as he played with her hair. She felt warm and safe in his arms,

“I love you Donnie.” She said quietly.

“I love you too, darling.”

[fanfic-inator795]

RotTMNT/Baron Jitsu fanfiction: Dating… With Children - Chapter Eight

(Also on AO3 if you want to leave a comment or kudos)

Plot:  Benjamin Draxum hardly considered himself a man of high social standing. Not because he was uncouth or unworthy of it, mind you, but simply because he didn’t have much of a social life. Hard to have one when he usually spent his days at work, cooped up in a lab for so long that he often had his lunches in there, and his nights at home reading or doing research for more personal projects. But perhaps meeting handsome semi-retired movie star - as well as his four young sons - could change all that…

((Apologies for the long wait! Writer's block hit me hard this time around... But not only have I finally finished this chapter, but I managed to get a couple drabbles written out as well to make up for the lack of content, which I should have posted shortly. Anyway, hope you enjoy both them and this chapter! ^v^ Also, shoutout to @halloweennut, whose own celeb AU inspired a few small bits for the beginning chunk of this chapter, heh))

Lou could still remember when he was a younger man, fresh off the set of his first movie. A passion project from an already decently famous director with a foreign, previously unknown actor as the face of it. Lou had been so excited when he first walked into that small LA television studio, only half listening as his manager tried to ‘suggest’ answers to certain possible questions, and instead just tried to take it all in. Not only was he going to be a movie star, but now he was going to be on one of the most well known talk shows in America! Talk about a good head start! As was to be expected, he'd ended up completely acing his interview, charming both the live audience and viewers at home and cementing himself on the path to stardom.

But that had been years ago, the excitement and ‘newness’ of it all being long gone, even after taking a bit of a break from the business. As far as Lou was concerned, you be on one talk show, you've been on them all.

Still, the experience wasn't necessarily a bad one - especially when the studio put in the extra money for a decent backstage spread. Licking his lips slightly, Lou picked up another ham and cheese-topped cracker, quietly munching on it as he watched the various stagehands pass by. He was moving over the dessert side of the table when one of the show’s managers finally approached him. “Five minutes until you’re on, Mr. Jitsu!”

“Mm,” Lou nodded. He took a cookie to go and then stood at the designated spot behind the curtains, knowing the drill well. Popping the treat in his mouth, he took a moment to smooth out his outfit - a crisp white shirt with a light blue jacket and pants and a loose red tie, making the whole thing a sort of call back to the jumpsuits he used to wear - and make any last-minute quick fixes to his hair before the commercials ended.

Finally, the stage lights came back on just as the cameras began rolling, and the audience cheered as their favorite New York hostess strolled back on stage. “Welcome back, everyone,” Jessica grinned, soaking in the cheers from her audience. Jessica Jacklynn was more of a local famous favorite than a national one like other late night talk show hosts, but she still had plenty of fans thanks to her cool demeanor and always being on the search for exciting drama with her guests. “We’ve got a pretty special treat for you all tonight, a man who I'm sure needs no introduction, but I guess we’ll give him one anyway-” The audience gave a bit of a laugh at that. “Here to celebrate the seventeenth anniversary of his film, ‘Teriyaki Shakedown’, give it up for… LOU ‘JITSU’ HAMATO!”

Huh, it wasn't often people included his real last name - and even less often, if ever, his real first name. Most people just introduced him by his stage name. Heck, Lou himself usually did that too, not having much of a connection to his family name and only using it to sign official papers. ‘Guess she did her homework,’ Lou thought as he walked out onto the stage, a professional grin plastered on his handsome face.

He struck a couple ‘action poses’ for the cheering audience and shook hands with Jessica before setting down on the dark red couch opposite her desk chair. (From what he heard, Jessica was somewhat famous for actually standing on her desk when things got really exciting, and wondered if she'd end up doing that tonight at some point.)

“So Lou, seventeen years,” Jessica began, smiling sweetly now, “It’s been a while, though I bet the time just flew by for you, huh?”

“Oh yeah,” Lou nodded, “Seems like it was only yesterday I was tossing stunt doubles into bowls of soup.” The audience laughed again. “Heh, it's kind of funny that that film is more remembered than my first just because it started my catchphrase. But hey, it's a good catchphrase! And apparently still pretty applicable to non-soup situations.”

“Mmhm,” Jessica nodded, “Well, we all love a good action-hero catchphrase. But, we aren't just here to celebrate the past, we want to know what you've been up to since! After all, it has been a while since your last film-”

“Yeah well, you can thank the box office for that,” Lou joked, earning more laughs.

“Fair enough, but I understand that you've had other things keeping you busy as well?” Jessica inquired, leaning in a bit on her desk, “Things like trying to take care of four little boys, maybe?”

Lou’s smile faltered ever so slightly as he nodded. “Yes, I suppose you could say that…” Lou never minded the spotlight of the press, and could even handle the paparazzi! But when it came to his kids, well… It was a whole different story.

Even without reporting it to the press, the news that Lou Jitsu had adopted four young sons had still broken a few days after he signed the papers. Almost immediately, news and celeb magazines wanted info and pictures. They'd pop up like a nasty swarm of gnats, hoping for several pictures and wanting to ask the boys questions after questions.

The first time it happened, it caused poor three year old Mikey to hide his face in his father’s chest, obviously freaked out by all the sudden people and flashes, while his only slightly older brothers were still a bit too surprised and confused to know what to do, the three of them crowding around Lou’s tall, protective legs. It took threatening to throw their cameras into the nearest tree to get them to finally leave, though even that didn't discourage much of the media circus.

He had accepted one interview, hoping to relieve some pressure, from a local New York newscaster who simply wanted a cute fluff piece from the semi-retired action star (as well as to get the full story first before any other media outlet could). ...Unfortunately, said newscaster ended up being a huge jerk, doing everything from asking if Lou purposely chose to adopt ‘minority kids’ (as if Lou himself wasn't a minority? The guy was an idiot too) to asking if he was trying to ‘prove something’ to other celebs who had adopted kids by adopting so many at once, even going so far as to imply that his kids were simply charity cases. Honestly it took all of Lou’s self restraint not to just rip the stupid poofy blond hair right off the guy’s head by the time the interview was over.

And of course, once he allowed one reporter to talk to him, everyone else just tried even harder to get an interview too. It eventually took Tang Shen - as well as several other people in the industry who considered themselves Lou Jitsu’s friends - threatening the various members of the paparazzi on social media, as well as the public finding some other piece of celeb news to obsess and gossip over, to finally get it all to stop somewhat.

Though, thinking back on all that, Lou was beginning to wonder if he had made a mistake accepting the invitation onto Jessica’s show, possibly inviting that whole mess back into his life... However, Jessica was calm and professional as she continued. “I think we all remember a couple years ago when we all heard that action superstar Lou Jitsu was suddenly a father, and for what it's worth… We couldn't be happier for you!”

Lou blinked. “Oh… Well, thank you!” He nodded, quickly composing himself, “Yes, they are very good boys, even when they don't always listen. But hey, what kid does?”

“True, true,” Jessica agreed, “And I bet they love having fun just as much as you did, eh Lou?”

Lou chuckled. “Well, fun for them, and maaaybe a bit more on the side of stressful for me. But what can I say? I love my boys, even after the hundredth time I’ve told them to take off their shoes before running into the house.”

Chuckling along with his listeners as he relaxed on the couch, he began spinning various anecdotes about fatherhood and his new family that were funny and even relatable as they were heartwarming. The audience was practically eating out of his hands - not that Lou really cared, he just liked talking about his boys! Though, if he could entertain people with them then, hey, two birds with one stone.

“-and oh, you should've just seen the mess they made, and the faces they made when I caught them. They knew they were in big trouble - they got cheese and sauce on the CEILING! It was unbelievable!

"Ha! I can imagine!"

"Yes, and all over a ‘which pizza topping is the best’ argument! I wanted to be mad, believe me, but at that point, it felt like all I could do was laugh!" Lou shook his head at the memory. "Heh, I am sure I must have seemed crazy, but then again I was pretty crazy for leaving four kids under ten in the kitchen alone anyway. And it is like I told Ben, if you are going to have a food fight, you might as well do it as a child so you have a better chance of getting away with it-”

“Wait,” Jessica stopped him, “Ben?” She raised an eyebrow, smirking a bit. “Who's Ben?”

Again, Lou’s grin fell ever so slightly. Had he said Ben’s name? Shoot. “Well, ah… A-Anyway, after all that-”

“Oh, don't tell me you've been holding out on us, Lou!” Jessica told him, her eyes curious and mischievous as her now-curious fans throwing in a couple encouraging cheers, “Come on, you can tell us! Is there a new certain someone we should know about? Someone we already know?”

“Heh, I doubt it...” Lou mumbled. Draxum definitely wasn't the public type, he barely even had a social media page! There was no way he'd want his and Lou's 'story' shared with the whole city, much less the rest of the world. However, even knowing this, he also knew that his hostess wouldn't let it drop if he tried to play dumb and completely deny it. So, he decided to just choose his words carefully.

“I… may have started dating again-” The applause and surprised shouts were practically thunderous- “but, I want to respect my boyfriend’s privacy. It is what he deserves, after all. He is fun, smart, good with the boys-” he cracked a smirk, “Definitely handsome, aaaand… That is all I am going to say.” And his smirk only stubbornly remained as groans filled his ears.

“Are you sure you can't give us anymore?” The so-called Queen of Drama inquired, batting her eyes a bit, “I just know our audience would-”

“Now, I believe your people found some deleted scenes from the studio that you wanted me to give some insight on?” Lou asked, not even looking at her now, effectively ending the conversation, “Because, hey, isn't this supposed to be about ‘Teriyaki Shakedown’? I have got plenty of stories about that story too, you know! Does anyone here want to hear about how I came up with my Hot Soup finisher? Maybe a little demonstration too, if we can find some soup?”

Much to their hostess’ dismay, the audience unanimously answered, clapping and cheering once again. Remaining professional as ever, Jessica just smiled as she tucked a strand of dark brown hair behind her ear. “Well, I guess we know what we’re doing after commercials. Stay tuned for more stories and stunts with our favorite butt-kicking star, Lou ‘Jitsu’ Hamato!”

----------

“Great show tonight, Ms. Jacklynn!” “Wonderful job, Ms. Jacklynn!” “That was such a good idea, finding an excuse to get the Lou Jitsu on the show!” “I'm just surprised he said yes! Feels like it's been forever since he's been on something!” “And yet the moment someone says his name, his fans go totally rabid! Now that's what you’d call someone with star power!”

Jessica nodded as she continued making her way through her stage crew, only briefly acknowledging their comments and praise. Even the executive producer of the network only got a minute of her time. “I just really have something I need to get done before I head home,” she explained, not bothering to reveal anything else as she finally made it to her private dressing room.

She sighed, kicking off her high heels. Hosting a show was nice, but now it was time for the real fun. After all, content for shows and blog posts didn't just fall out of the trees most of the time. Sometimes, you had to go searching for it… And other times, you had to make it yourself. She had been hoping that with enough flirting, perhaps she could make some viewers see sparks between her and the semi-retired star, leading to plenty of publicity for the both of them and possibly start certain favorable rumors. But this… This was MUCH more interesting!

“Funny, Lou,” Jessica mused as she turned on her laptop, “You never used to shy about who you dated…” Even before she got into the showbiz game, she could remember seeing and hearing about all the various arm candy he’d have at movie premieres, award shows and Hollywood parties. Whether they were a new face on the movie scene, some beautiful model, a rich heir or heiress or even a co-star, Lou simply had no problem showing them off and having fun in both public and private for however long the fling lasted.

So what made this ‘Ben’ guy so special? What was he trying to hide?

Jessica went to Lou’s social media page first, naturally. She ended up scrolling through four months worth of content, but unfortunately came up with nothing. All Lou seemed to post were cute pics of his kids, random opinions on random things, Lou Jitsu memes and the occasional food or outfit pic when he had something to show up. Guess he was just as private about his personal life online as he was in person. Jessica scowled a bit at this, but didn’t give up yet. There was information out there, she knew there was! She just had to dig a little deeper…

She began searching for anything Lou Jitsu related on all social media sites. Most of it was useless - a fan mentioning they were doing a #JitsuMovieMarathon or someone taking a pic with an obvious Lou Jitsu impersonator. Those were the most frustrating. But finally, after over an hour of searching, she finally found something.

The Facebook page of a nobody with a followers number that indicated that anything he posted most likely stayed trapped within his circle of friends no matter how interesting or cool it was. There, she found a picture of Lou in a fighting ring with some guy she didn’t know, the caption explaining that this guy just couldn’t believe someone as awesome as Lou Jitsu was fighting in their gym.

But that wasn’t the most interesting thing. No, what was most interesting was the slightly blurry face in the background of the pic, tall with auburn hair and eyes wide with amazement. Jessica hummed to herself. He could’ve just been another fan… But there was something about him that seemed to claim otherwise.

This hinting feeling was indicated about twenty five minutes later when she saw the tall, redhead man again in another picture, this time on Twitter. It was slightly out of focus and far away, and Lou was wearing sunglasses, but it was them, there was no doubt about that. “Can’t believe it! A celeb date night on MY shift!” the girl had tweeted, adding an obnoxious amount of emojis and wishing the former star luck before adding “#HotSoupLove!” .

Jessica smirked. Hot Soup Love, indeed. “Now we’re getting somewhere…” It took some cross referencing and a lot more digging - whoever this guy was, he had little to know social media presence whatsoever, which made it even stranger that he was dating LOU JITSU of all people - but finally, she found him.

His stern, serious picture stared back at her as his information was revealed, thanks to the research lab website that introduced him: Dr. Benjamin Draxum, head of Genetics and Biochemical Research. “Doesn’t exactly seem like the ‘dating’ type, or the type of guy that a guy like Jitsu would go for,” Jessica commented, opening up a word post on her own social media page, “But hey, that just makes it all the more interesting.”

She always did love being the first one to break the story on any potential celebrity gossip, and this was certainly a story twist that no one would see coming…

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

Draxum’s eyes shot opened at the sudden alarm. He groaned, hating how early these Monday mornings always seemed to be. His eyes then shifted towards the windows, his body still lazy enough to ignore the alarm. Even behind the curtains, he could tell the sun was just barely starting to rise. So then, why was his alarm-?

It was then his tired brain finally realized that it wasn't his alarm going off, but his simple ringtone. He reached over and picked up his phone, and then glared at the screen when he saw it was a number he didn't recognize. Why they were calling over an hour before he had to wake up, he had no idea. It was probably a telemarketer, but just in case it wasn't, Draxum reluctantly answered the phone. “Hello?”

“Hello,” a seemingly human voice replied, “Are you Dr. Benjamin Draxum?”

“Yes, and who is this?”

“My name is Samantha Vics. I work for the NYC Inquiry and I was wondering if I could ask you some questions.”

A newspaper? (Or, maybe a magazine, he didn't know for sure given that he didn't really read many of either.) Well… He wasn't expecting that. Better than a telemarketer, at least. “About what?” He asked, wondering if perhaps something happened at his lab and they needed a statement from someone who worked there.

“Well, I was hoping you could tell me a little about your relationship with Lou Jitsu.”

…………… What .

“Excuse me?” He asked after several seconds of silence. Maybe he just misheard-

“Your relationship with Lou Jitsu. You are dating him, aren't you? I was hoping maybe I could ask you a few questions about that. How you two met, how long you two have been dating, what it’s like dating an action star as famous as him-”

Draxum took a deep breath through his nose. “...Excuse me for asking but, which section of the paper did you say you worked for?” He was just barely managing to keep his tone even.

“Oh, it's not a paper, sir. It's more of a local and national pop culture and celebrity-focused magazine, why-?” Draxum hung up, releasing his sigh. He wanted to go back to bed for the next hour and pretend that the whole incident was just an annoying dream.

...That's what he would've done at least, had it not been for the two more phone calls he received that morning. One from some talk show host named Jessica, and another from the Today Show, asking for a comment to use during their ‘Trending Now’ segment. Those two simple words sent enough dread down into Draxum’s stomach to switch his phone to silent, effectively ignoring it as he got ready for what was sure to be a long day.

His temper only rose when he ended up running into more people outside of his apartment, at least three or four. More ‘reporters’ - weren't these people supposed to be researching and reporting REAL news?! - trying to ask him questions, as well as ordinary people passing by, whispering as soon as they saw him and watching him as if he were some sideshow. He lost track of how many times he said “No comment”, practically shouting the words by the time he got to his car. At least they were smart enough to get out of his way once he got behind the wheel.

He didn't drive to work right away though, curiosity finally getting the better of him as he instead pulled into an empty alleyway where he could check his phone - four missed calls now - in peace. All he did was type in his name into a search engine, and about half a dozen articles from various blogs and gossip rags came up.

“Beautiful Brawn Meets Brain! Lou Jitsu Dates NYC Doctor!”

"Just WHO Is Jitsu’s New Boyfriend?!”

"Hot Soup Love!”

"Is Lou Jitsu Into Scientists Instead of Supermodels These Days? These Pics Would Say Yes!”

“What the hell?!” Draxum scowled, reading title after title before finally clicking on the earliest post. Honestly it was more speculation than an actual article, with the only ‘facts’ being the two pictures that included both him and Lou, as well as his name - which was only used once. After that, he was just referred to as ‘Jitsu’s Boyfriend’ or ‘The Scientist’. That definitely irked him.

And one of the photos… That was the diner they liked going to. The diner that would no doubt be swarmed often now in the hopes of getting another shot at seeing the Big Apple’s newest celebrity couple, the public and media alike most likely not caring if they disrupted a date. This made Draxum’s heart ache as much as it made his anger rise. He really liked that diner...

“How did they even find out about us?” He wondered out loud as he continued scrolling through. Sure there were the pictures, but something would have to prompt people to go looking for them, given they weren't originally posted by paparazzi. It was then, in the back of his mind, he remembered Lou saying something about having a talk show gig.

His eyes narrowed as he immediately switched from the Internet to texting. “We need to talk,” he typed.

Thankfully, Lou didn't wait long to reply, his words serious for once. “I know… I have to take the boys for school, but I will meet you at your lab for lunch. Maybe before then I can call up a couple people, do some damage control.” So he already knew. Draxum texted back that he would see him then. Just as he started his car back up, he received one last text.

“Ben… I am so sorry.”

Draxum didn't reply back.

The drive to work was average, save for his still-set-to-silent phone getting more unknown callers. He would have to start blocking numbers soon, maybe even change his number. He scowled just thinking about it as he walked up the walkway to the research building. It was ridiculous, couldn't these people just take a hint and leave him alo-?

* CLICK ! CLICK !*

Draxum’s whipped his head to the side so fast it was a wonder he didn't get whiplash. His eyes had just barely caught the tail end of a flash of light, and as he stared at the seemingly-normal bush that sat near the parking lot, he could see hints of black and plastic within it. Unable to help himself, he clenched his fists. “HEY!”

The scrawny figure didn't hesitate to move, jumping out of the bush and dashing down the street with their camera in tow. Had he not been in work clothes, he might have chased the photographer down. But he was as tired as he was furious, so he settled for simply letting the lab’s security desk attendant know that he'd spotted a ‘suspicious person’ outside.

His interns thankfully were smart enough not to say anything, stiff in their seats and already engrossed in their daily tasks. That's what Draxum tried to do as well, to just pretend that everything was normal despite feeling like the entire city - the entire world - now had their eyes on him, desperate for any little scrap they could get. ...Naturally this made focusing on work fairly hard. In between in-putting data from current tests and doing research on upcoming projects, he’d switch to social media, reluctant yet too curious to stop himself.

By this point most of the ‘articles’ had stopped, given that there was no new information coming in and nothing new to add. But that didn't mean people didn't have anything to say - the comments sections were an absolute nightmare...

Some people claimed Lou was only dating him so Draxum could (somehow) get his kids into a good college, or free medical care (he wasn't that kind of doctor, morons). Others simply called Draxum out for only wanting to date Lou for his status and money, with some speculating that he was only faking being a doctor. They wondered what they saw in each other, how Lou could possibly think of ‘going out with someone like that’. Every quality or accomplishment Draxum had or might have had was just ripped to shreds by fans and gossipers alike, all of them agreeing that the famous action star could certainly do better.

Draxum wasn't the type to care what people thought of him. ...He had to keep reminding himself that. That these opinions were worthless in the grand scheme of things… Still, even the least social people could still feel the crushing weight of words and insults if enough was thrown at them. “Unbelievable,” he muttered, his anger more numb now even as his disheartened frustrations remained.

The morning hours of his shift took an eternity to get through, but eventually the noon hour rolled around, and there was a knock on his doorway. “Hey,” Lou quietly greeted, holding up a logoless bag. With the media circus going on around them, it made sense that his boyfriend would pick making a sandwich for him over stopping somewhere and buying one. Draxum nodded, thanking him as he took the bag, but didn't open it.

As soon as they were alone in the room, his interns heading to the cafeteria faster than he had ever seen them go, Draxum asked his first question: “Why did you think it was okay to just… To just tell the whole WORLD about me without even-?”

“It was an accident,” Lou told him, as apologetic as he was defensive, “I-I was on that show, just telling stories about the boys and, well, your name just… slipped out.” He winced, silently berating himself for such a stupid mistake before continuing. “But I swear to you, Ben, I did not give them anything! All I said was that I was dating someone and left it at that. I didn't say what kind of job you had, or any personal information about you, or even your last name!”

Draxum was still scowling, though at least it didn't seem to be directed completely at his boyfriend now. “And it would seem they didn't need you to tell them that stuff, when they could just find it on their own.”

“Hmph, right…” He still wasn't sure how Jessica was able to find all she did about Draxum with just a first name, but he did know one thing: He was NEVER going on her show again. ...Unfortunately, whether he made a reappearance or not, the damage already seemed done. “Ben, I… I am so, so sorry. I never wanted something like this to happen! Especially not to the man I care about.”

Draxum stared at him for a moment longer before sighing. “I know… And I forgive you.” It would be unfair to keep blaming him for such a minor mistake.

Lou managed a weak smile at that. “Thanks… So uh, I was able to get in touch with a couple of my old managers, and they are going to try and get the story pulled.” Though by this point, it was already far too late. The original reporters had done their job, and it wasn't as if they could control every single person on social media. They had lost the war before starting a single battle. “I, I could still make a public statement. Not sure how much it would help, but…”

“Couldn't hurt to try,” Draxum agreed. Still, while Lou didn't even attempt to ask it, it still hung in the air between them, and the idea of it still sort of broke Draxum’s heart. Even worse, he didn't even have a solid answer to it.

“So, uh… A-Are you still coming over tonight?” Lou asked, “Because if you are, there is this back road behind my house, which may help with-”

“I think,” Draxum suddenly began as he forced himself to not look away, already feeling cowardly enough as is, “that I need some space.”

Lou’s glasses were at just the right angle to catch the fluorescent lights of his lab. Between that and the shading from his poofy hair, Draxum couldn't quite tell what his expression was. Still, the man’s voice remained steady. “Take all the time you need,” he quietly insisted. He then said his goodbyes, and walked out the door - and both of them hoped it wasn't for the last time.

Draxum stared at the open space where his boyfriend had stood, and nearly followed him out the door - but stopped when his phone lit up yet again with another unfamiliar number. He glared at the device, blocking the number before slamming it down on his desk.

Some space between them was for the best… It was for the best...

----------

The nice thing about the media machine was that new news became old news pretty quickly.

Sure, it still took him a couple days and blocking at least a dozen more numbers, but eventually Draxum stopped getting calls asking for interviews or comments. His co-workers made sure to stay out of his way as well, even though he could tell they were VERY curious and we're just barely holding back questions. And even if Draxum still made it a habit to look over his shoulder while walking around, the attempts that various members of the paparazzi made to try and get a shot of him also became few and far between.

After all, there was no point to the pictures if he was the only one in them...

“...” Draxum sighed, his eyes once again going from the book he was reading (a book he'd already read twice over, and was only trying to force himself to read it again as a distraction rather than for pleasure) over to the coffee table, where his phone sat, its silence adding to the much too quiet atmosphere of his apartment. Part of him almost wished it would ring or alert him about a text, but he knew it wouldn't happen. It hadn't happened for nearly two weeks.

“I wonder how he's doing,” Draxum mumbled to himself, eyes going from the device to the dark sky outside his living room window. He wondered about Lou and the boys both… He was sure they’d had to deal with twice as much hounding from the paparazzi, if not more, but he really hoped that they were enjoying some well-deserved peace now too. With days of silence from both sides of NYC’s newest hot couple, the media and celebrity gossipers alike eagerly moved onto the next scandal, leaving #HotSoupLove in the dust.

It was a relief… But there was also little actual comfort to it, for Draxum knew as soon as there were signs of the two of them being together in public again, the cameras and microphone-wielding pests of the city would pounce on them once more like snakes from the shadows. Each date outside of one of their homes would be a spectacle for the world to see, and Draxum hated that.  What he hated even more, however, was the fact that if it weren't for these vultures and the mess they would bring to his life… He would've probably called Lou as soon as the coast was clear...

Draxum had never needed space, he just refused to give the paparazzi a chance to get what they wanted! He had just wanted some peace and quiet, some time to hide from the prying eyes of his newfound public audience. But Lou… He had never wanted to be away from Lou, not for this long at least.  He truly did forgive him for his mistake, and each time Draxum thought of him - of the fun conversations or the things Lou would do to make him smile, of all the small gestures meant only for him and the moments they would also share with Lou’s young family - it only made his heart ache… God, did Draxum miss him. He missed ALL of them, and wanted nothing more than to see them again. To go back to the way things were.

And yet his hand refused to pick up the phone.

Draxum growled, carelessly tossing the book aside before leaning back on the couch and shutting his eyes. He hated it… Hated that to be with the one he loved, he'd have to risk being exposed to the world. Hated that a single phone call between them or a simple night out could also invite thousands of eyes and invasive questions. Hated that, for their relationship to work, he would have to also most likely deal with dangerous rumors and insulting comments and possibly even threats (depending on how rabid that particular part of the Lou Jitsu fanbase was) on a daily basis.

...But most of all, he hated himself for being such a coward. He didn't care how reasonable it was to hide, he was still allowing them to control this part of his life. He was giving them the power to decide the fate of his relationship instead of fighting for it... But since when was Benjamin Draxum not a fighter?

Deciding to do what he should've done two weeks ago, Draxum stood up and got his laptop.  It didn't take very long, about an hour at most. Editing was minimal, and as he prepared to post it on his rarely-used Facebook account (which had amounted followers in the thousands in just a few short days with the number continuing to rise), he finally picked up his cell and sent a simple text:

“Hello, Lou. Sorry for taking so long.”

It only took a couple minutes to get a reply. “It's fine, do not worry about it.” It was a normal enough reply, yet something about it still made it seem like Lou was walking on eggshells with him rather than being his normal, carefree self.

Draxum scowled slightly as his thumb flew across the keys. “No, it's not fine. Yes, I was upset and-” Scared? Angry? Disgusted by society? “-worried about dealing with… this whole situation. But not anymore. By the way, I’m posting something online right now, and I just wanted to give you a heads up. I'd suggest you watch it though.”

That time, Lou’s reply took several minutes. “Should I be worried about this?” He finally asked. He could almost see the man raising an eyebrow at him, wondering whether or not the scientist was about to do something that could get him anything from a bunch of flame comments and haters to getting arrested.

Draxum chuckled despite himself, not exactly being able to blame his boyfriend for being concerned. “No, if this blows up in my face, I should be the only one in the crossfire. That being said, I did want to ask one last thing. Are you free to go out tomorrow? I'd like to take you back to the diner we like.”

He could see Lou thinking it over (thanks to the ellipsis word bubble) before giving him an answer. “Yeah, sure, I should be free...but are you sure u want to go back there? and not somewhere else?”

“Yes. Very.” He was certain that Lou was still a bit unsure, but nevertheless they agreed on a time that Draxum would pick him up before saying goodnight. With that taken care of, Draxum made his post and then promptly shut off his laptop, letting his video do the rest…

-----------

“Hello. My name is Dr. Benjamin Draxum - though I'm sure most of you out there don't care about that. You'll just call me ‘The Scientist’ or ‘Lou Jitsu’s boyfriend’. Speaking of Lou and my relationship with him, that will be the subject of this video. You all want answers? Then fine, you've got them.

“We first met about five months, at an art museum auction event. When we first met each other, he invited me to join him and his family for the rest of the evening. I accepted. Afterwards, he gave me his phone number, and after a long conversation over the phone where we got to know each other, he invited me over to his house for supper. Again, I accepted.

“Ever since then, we've been spending time with each other and going out on dates when we can. We talk on the phone, visit each other’s homes, and do all the normal, average things that literally any other couple would do on dates. Those are the facts. And because I have revealed all the facts that are there, I will not be accepting or answering anymore questions, from the public or the media, in this video’s comments section or through the phone or email. However, I understand that this will not keep people from asking anyway or from speculation, nor will it keep mine and Lou’s relationship private despite the more intimate details of it not being anyone else’s business. I fully expect candid shots of us together the next time we go out, no matter how much I may ask of others to respect our privacy. ...But again, I accept this, and I will give you all one last fact about me:

“I care about Lou Jitsu, fully and genuinely, and as long as he will continue to allow it and as long as I still have these strong feelings for him, I will continue to be with him. Thank you and goodnight.”

Jessica had watched the video three times now, and each time she found herself a bit hollow afterwards. It hadn't been the first time someone famous (or even just in the middle of their thirty seconds of fame) had made a video to help clear up certain things or vent about something. But those were usually a lot more dramatic, where they'd eventually start screaming or crying or insulting people - But Draxum had done none of that.

He had spoke as if he was giving a lecture on whatever it was he studied. He was clear and concise, only presenting the facts with little emotion whatsoever. Even how he presented himself on the camera was professional, sitting up straight on his couch at home, well dressed with brushed hair. This was hardly some dramatic speech or him boasting about how he was sure ‘their love could conquer anything’. ...At least, it wasn't that in words or tone.

But in his eyes and the way he stared down the camera - not caring how many were watching or judging - revealed his true feelings. His passion, his determination to fight for his relationship, maybe even his love.

“I gotta hand it to you, Jitsu,” Jessica smiled, finally closing the screen, “You sure know how to pick them…” She also had a feeling that they'd be one of the few celebrity couples to stay together - and if that were indeed the case, she'd definitely have to come up with a better couples name for them than #HotSoupLove.

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

As far as he knew, no one had followed him to the Jitsu household. No paparazzi desperate for interviews, and no cameramen hoping for candid shots. Though, if there had been someone, he wasn't sure how much he would actually care. At this point, nothing was going to stop him from finally seeing his boyfriend again.

So, Draxum walked up to the house, moved to knock on the door, and-

The door opened, Lou already knowing he was there. He was smirking, but there was gratitude and admiration in his smile. “Well well well… Don't we know how to make a viral splash?”

Draxum smiled back at him. “Well, I didn't exactly have much of a choice. I had to let the world - and you - know where I stand.”

Lou’s smile fell a bit. “...Except you did have a choice. You know that, right?”

“I do… But it wouldn't have been a choice I'd be happy with,” Draxum told him, taking a step forward. He took Lou’s hands, squeezing them with care. “I want to be with you, no matter how much I may have to deal with from everyone else.” Though, after a moment, he frowned. “Of course, I'm not the only one this affects… Even if I'm not around you all the time, I'm sure you and your family will have to deal with all of that extra attention as well, so-”

Suddenly, Lou was grinning ear-to-ear. “Wow, last night really was the first time you have been on social media in a while, huh?”

“...Yesss, why?”

He chuckled. “Tang Shen saw what was going on, and heard about how our house was practically swarmed with people wanting comments that first day. And well, heh, you're not the only one who can make an online video. Just recently she decided to, ah, 'renew' an old threat directed at the entire paparazzi community, and told them that anyone who tried to talk or take pictures of my children without my consent would be VERY sorry. My boys will be just fine.”

Draxum was grinning now, holding back his laughter. “Well, that settles it. I definitely have to meet that woman one of these days.”

“She always flies in around Christmastime, just a heads up. And as for me, I am pretty much used to the whole ‘rabid fanbase, occasionally stalked by media people’ thing by now. Although…” His smile softened. “It really is easier when you have someone helping you deal with it.”

Not willing to hold himself back anymore, Draxum closed the distance between them, kissing Lou softly. Lou deepened the kiss, wrapping his arms around his shoulders. Yes, this was where he belonged: Beside his boyfriend, taking on whatever came their way together.

As they broke apart, they could hear tiny feet coming down the stairs. “I will have to go drop the boys off at O’Neil’s place, and then-”

“Draxum!” “Dr. Draxum!” “Drax!” “DRAXUMMMMM!”

From out of nowhere it seemed, he felt one, two, three, four small bodies (though that last one was pretty heavy) run into his legs, knocking him off balance and onto the ground. “Wh- Boys?!” Lou shouted.

Of course, his sons just ignored him, too excited as they all shouted at once. “We haven't seen you in forever, Dr. Draxum!” “See, I told you guys he'd come back!” “Yeahhh well, I always knew.” “Nuh uh, Leo!” "Yuh huh!" “DRAXUM I’M SO GLAD YOU’RE BAAAACK!”

Unable to help himself, Draxum laughed, managing to wrap his arms around all four of them. “I've missed you boys, too…” And that was the truth.

It took about fifteen minutes to calm the boys down and get them to April’s house (and to get Mikey to let go of Draxum), thanks to Draxum happily promising to visit them again later. With that settled, the reunited couple made their way to the diner.

As was to be expected, the diner was pretty full, now infamous for being #HotSoupLove’s ‘place’. But the two barely gave anyone else a second glance as they caught up with each other and enjoyed their meal, nor did they hesitate in taking a nice walk through the open Central Park afterwards. Not even the annoying occasional flash of a camera out of the corner of their eye or the whispers as they passed people by could sour their mood.

They were dealing with it all together, and that was all that mattered.

(( I know Jessica Jacklynn was just a referee/commentator, but I feel like she would totally be the type of character to host a late night talkshow and just be all about the celebrity gossip and drama. Lol, anyway, hope this chapter was enjoyable and not too wordy. please leave a comment if you can!))

[wormstacheangel]

Day 21: Fear

Word Count:1862 

Summary: Dean brings Cas back from the Empty. Great now he has anxiety. (light hurt/comfort)

Catch up on all my suptober days Here!

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When Dean finally rescued Cas from the empty he expected a happy reunion. He expected a strong hug like the first time he had escaped. He expected a long awaited kiss and repeated confessions that weren’t said with sorrow or heartache. He expected to find the same Cas that was taken from him but that’s not what they found.

Cas was left awake, alone, and in complete darkness for months on end. 

So when Dean went into the empty, ready to wake up the love of his life, he found Cas curled in on himself. Staring blankly out into the void of nothingness. He was whispering something so softly and quickly that Dean couldn’t pick up on the actual words but it sounded familiar. Almost like he was humming a song.

Dean tried to get him to stand up on his own but that idea was quickly trashed as he realized Cas hasn’t even been looking at him but past him. Somewhere far into the distance or locked in his mind. He still wasn’t sure but he picked up the little angel with whatever desperate strength he did have and dragged him back to the portal.

Back home.

The bright light seemed to startle him and he started to shove Dean away. Dean then took off his jacket and placed it over Cas’s head to calm him as he slowly walked through the portal and into the bunker’s library where Jack, Rowena, Eileen, and Sam were waiting for them. 

Soon they realized that Cas’s welcome back party will be pushed back as Cas clinged to Dean. Still hidden under the jacket. In the darkness. 

Cas didn’t cry. He didn’t really change his expression much as he only laid in Dean’s bed with the lights off. Well all but one lamp on the desk where Cas likes to stare at. He squinted at it at first but he must have gotten used to it. Making a dissatisfied noise whenever Dean makes a move to turn it off. 

He still did that rapid talking or singing whenever they were alone, when it was just a little bit too quiet. It made Dean wonder if Cas knew he was out of the Empty. Especially during those times when he would stare right past him, unblinking with cold eyes. 

It was only the second week in when Dean broke down. He didn’t mean to. He was trying so damn hard to keep it together especially in front of Cas. But one night he just lost it. Maybe it was lack of booze in his system that didn’t knock him out right away or maybe it was how Sam came up to him about a case. It pissed him off more than it should have. The fact that Sam even believed for a second that he would leave this bunker while Cas was like...well the way he was, just gave him enough of an excuse to raise his voice at someone. Eileen had to step in and tell him too cool off. 

So Dean went to his room. He changed into his pajamas and  climbed into bed besides Cas. He wrapped his arms around the angel and spooned him from the back as he opened his mouth to wish him a goodnight. Every night he has been saying Goodnight, Cas. I love you. but something in him just broke.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry it took me so long to go get you. Please come back, Cas. Please. We missed- I...I missed you. I missed you so much, Cas." No response. Dean lets out a shaky breath but hides his face in Cas's back. "I love you. Come back to me soon, okay?"

The only response Dean got was a squeeze of the hand and that was enough hope for the future. Enough to make Dean let out the tears that were burning his eyes.

As the days went on Cas really didn’t change. Literally and figuratively. He was still an angel so there was no need for him to shower or brush his teeth but Dean swore that Cas’s facial hair was growing. 

They did learn a couple of things as the days went on. 

One, peace and quiet was not what they strive for. It seemed to only bring Cas anxiety and his humming or singing became much more louder and desperate. They fixed that problem with a Bluetooth speaker that was constantly playing music in the background, a playlist Jack made mixed in with a playlist Jack helped Dean make. It made the humming stop and Cas started to roll over in bed. He even sat back against the headboard with his eyes closed a few times.

A month after Cas got back Dean's phone died in the middle of the night and the silence must have gotten to him. He covered his ears while he started muttering to himself again. Dean woke up and pulled Cas to his chest as he started to softly sing to him in his still half asleep phase. He didn’t know why that was his first instinct but he went along with it cause it started to calm Cas down. Then for the first time Cas held him back. Tucking his head right under Dean's jaw and relaxing.

Dean tried not to stiffen at the touch or sob, if he was being honest, because he was busy singing. 

Two, always have a light source on. The lamp was the first one they had. Cas always wanted it on but it bothered Dean all the time when he wanted to sleep. So they bought a cool starlight projector, Sam’s idea, that kept the light on the cement ceiling and not on Dean’s face. Cas seemed to enjoy it as he laid on his back watching it all night, letting Dean curl up on his side as he slept. 

Three, never leave Cas alone. Obviously. Nobody wanted to leave Cas alone for more than a minute if they could help it. So they made plans to keep him company at all hours of the day. Of course, they weren’t crowding him. They all came in one by one, except for Dean who would say, “This is my room I get to come and go as I damn well please.”

Sam liked to sit by Cas's side and talk nerd like they usually would while he cleaned his guns or did research to help another hunter. He would even pause during the one way conversation as if to give Cas some time to answer or try to imagine what Cas would say in that situation. Sam was always calm while he tried to keep it as normal as possible while Cas just stared at him, sometimes his eyebrows knitted together and Dean had to excuse himself as he felt his chest tighten up.

Eileen sat by his side and watched shows she liked while she talked to Cas instead of sign so that he could hear her voice. But even then she didn’t talk much but she did pet his hair as she sat on the chair by the bed. Both quietly watching the show from Sam’s laptop. 

Jack came in the most next to Dean and liked reading to him or talking about how his skills as the new God have improved.

"Dad, I hope you'll be proud of me." Jack once whispered to Cas who was having a bad day, checking out more than usual as he stared off into the distance. Eyes wide and almost screaming. 

It was almost the end of the second month when another big Cas mile-stone happened. Jack was laying in bed with Cas while Dean was at his desk cleaning his guns obsessively again. Jack read him a book he bought during his recent trip to the bookstore with Eileen, it was a Star Wars story. 

Jack was getting into the book as he read slower but louder during a big fight scene. He got so excited that he even jumped up and looked back at Cas, "Did you hear that, Dad? He won!"

Cas smiled back at him. An actual smile and Dean almost dropped the piece of gun in his hand while Jack froze, his shoulders relaxing while he scrunched up his lips as if trying to hold back his cry.

Instead he quietly  composed himself as he asked, "You want me to read the rest?"

Cas only blinked at him, keeping the small smile, so he took it as a yes. Jack sat besides him again with a bigger smile plastered on his face as he rested his head on Cas's shoulder to continue reading. Dean didn’t miss when Cas tilted his head down to rest his cheek on Jack’s hair. 

He had to excuse himself again.

After that day Cas slowly started to open up a little more. 

Once Dean woke up with Cas gone and he was already in full panic, his shoes on the wrong feet and jacket sloppy put on as he called out for Sam. Then he found Cas in the kitchen trying to make coffee. He turned towards Dean and gave him the smallest of smiles but it filled Dean with such relief that he just dragged himself to Cas’s space. Opening his arms up to bring Cas into him and he fell against Dean without a second thought. 

Then Cas kept walking around the bunker. The library, Dean’s room, the Dean-cave, and the kitchen were his favorite places to just sit in. He always had Dean’s headphones on, softly playing music, just in case it went quiet and it took awhile for him to be able to walk around without those. 

It was the fourth month when Cas wished Dean a goodnight first and then added,  “I love you, Dean.”

Dean fought the lump in his throat but Cas instantly pulled him. Letting Dean rest his head on his chest while Cas wrapped his arms around him. He had so much he wanted to say to Cas just to hear his voice again, anything to hear his voice again, but instead he kissed Cas’s chest.

“I love you, too.”

Days came and went. Sometimes it seemed like Cas was getting better as he talked a little bit more but then those days will come when he would just stare off into the stars on their ceiling. Not moving an inch or bothering to fake breath like he liked. Those days the music was a little louder and Cas held on to Dean a little tighter.

“I don’t want to go back. Please,” Cas pleaded as he stared wide eyed at the darkness in the corner of their room. As if he was having a nightmare with his eyes wide open.  “Please don’t make me…I-I don’t want to be in the dark again.”

“Shh, it’s okay. It’s okay, Cas. I got you. Nobody’s taking you away from me ever again.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

That’s how Cas became human. Then the real nightmares started but at least one fear was lifted off his shoulders. The Empty can never take him again.

[exidtotheleft]

The Devil’s Trill | 04

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader Genre: Musician AU/Fluff Summary: Min Yoongi is a harsh music critic and judge known for his brutally honest input. When it comes your time to face his judgement, things go down different than you expected. The judge may end up becoming more than just a person to be feared to you. Chapter Playlist: Trille du diable (The Devil’s Trill) Chapters: Intro 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 Epilogue

You groaned in bed as you turned over. You were starting to awaken, and you heard your phone chime with a text notification which was what woke you the rest of the way. You picked up your phone, squinting at the screen. Your eyes adjusting to the light. When they had adjusted just enough, you made out the contact name that had sent the message. It was Yoongi. Suddenly, after seeing that, you were fully awake. You shot up from your bed and sat up straight. You opened the message and blinked before reading it. It was the address to his house, followed by the question: "What time where you planning on coming?" You looked at the time on the top corner of your phone. It was 8:03 A.M. right now. You wanted to go as soon as you could. You could honestly bolt out the door right now if you wanted to, you were so excited. But you knew you should give him some time to get ready. You replied back with the closest time that seemed reasonable.

 'How about 10, or is that too early?"

You pressed send and took a fast exhale. Turning your screen off immediately and dropping your phone as soon as your finger pressed the send button. You didn't want to even look at your phone as you waited for his reply. This was so nerve wracking to you. You heard your phone chime before you could even get out of your bed though. He was a quick responder.

Yoongi: '10 is fine. The earlier the better.'

You read. You pushed your lips together firmly after reading that, not knowing if you should respond or not. But you just replied with the first thing that came to mind.

 'Okay, see you then'

Once the message was sent, you threw the covers off of you and started changing. You took out a couple clothing options out, not knowing what exactly to wear. When you considered it, you didn't what to look too fancy and dressed up, but you had no idea what Yoongi was like. You didn't know what his living spaces were like and if he was a classy man or not. You assumed he was, seeing what he does for a living, and what your professor had said yesterday about him being a rich man. You decided you should put a bit of effort into what you wore. So you threw on a black blouse and nicely fitting jeans. You went into the bathroom and brushed out your hair, making sure it was tangle free before doing your normal makeup routine. Just enough to make it look like you put effort into your look.

Once you were done with that, you went go check your phone. Yoongi hadn't replied, but he saw your message. You checked the time, 8:20. You still had an hour, and then some, to kill. You sighed, not knowing what to do for that amount of time.

You lay down flat on your stomach on your bed and mindlessly scrolled through various social media posts and updates. You heard Lucy turn in the bed that was behind you. It sounded like she was waking up. "What time is it?" She mumbled through a groggy voice.  "8:20" you replied simply, even though it was a bit later than that.  "Damn." She replied, trying to completely wake herself up.

"You're dressed kinda nice for a weekend. Where are you going?"  "You know where I'm going." She went quiet for a moment to think.  "Oh!"  "Yeah."  "Ooo you look nice for him and everything."  "I only look nice because he probably dresses nice on a daily and I don't want to underdress."  "Sure." She teased.  "Really, that is why."  "Okay okay." She really was pushing that you and Yoongi thing. You heard her completely climb out of her bed, she came around and sat on the other side of you, where you could look up and see her. "What are you doing?"  "Nothing important. I'm just scrolling through twitter and what not."  "Ah." Silence thickened the air. You huffed and dropped your phone onto the bed when you came to the conclusion that nothing interesting was happening. "Do you wanna get breakfast or some thing?" You looked up at her and asked.  "I would but I honestly don't want to get dressed. We just bought stuff, we can make something. Isn't there pancake mix?"  "Yeah I remember buying that."  "Let's just do that then." You slowly stood up from your bed, both of you walked into the kitchen. Lucy got down a pan while you grabbed a bowl and the pancake mix. You opened the box of mix and held it up to pour some in the bowl, but Lucy stopped you. "Hey don't be doing that! Put it down." You furrowed your eyebrows and put the box down slowly. "You're gonna get pancake mix on your blouse."  "Oh my gosh Lucy I'm not your daughter."  "Well you are today and you're going on your first date!"  "Shut up!" You yelled back through laughter.  "No, you're gonna flip the pancakes and I'll mix them."  "Alright, what ever helps you sleep at night." You agreed while walking around the counter and to the stove. You put the small pan she had taken down on the electric stove, turning it on, waiting for her to finish adding the water to the bowl and mixing it.  "Here." She said while sliding the bowl over to you. You carefully picked up the bowl and poured a good amount of the mix into the pan and watched the bubbles form on top. Flipping it when you thought it was ready. It was a bit burnt, but could you ever really get these things cooked perfectly?

You continued doing this till you made 3 pancakes for both of you. You plated them and put them on your TV tray of a kitchen table and grabbed the syrup out of the small pantry. "Here." You and Lucy sat down on opposite sides of the table. You checked your phone before eating anything. It was still only 8:40, everything was going by so slow. This was killing you. You finally turned so your legs were fully under the table, and poured syrup on your breakfast. Taking a bite of what you had made. It was bland and clearly store bought, but it was still satisfying.  "What time where you going to Yoongi's?"  "Ten." You answered simply before taking another bite. "Dude, this is going by so slowly. I just want to go already." You vented. It was truly painful.  "I mean after this we can have like a two person party to kill time. I'll bust out my blue tooth speaker we can rock out to Shosty," You chuckled at that joke. Shosty was short for Shostakovich, who was a Russian composer. "Or that pop whatever you like. We can listen to what you want and totally annoy our neighbors."  "That sounds like a good idea."

_____

You took a deep breath as you pulled up the drive way of Yoongi's house, not surprised at what you saw but, very intimidated. His house was huge and all modernized. Your professor must to have been right about him being rich. Either that or he was swimming in debt. You said a quick prayer as you turned off your car and grabbed your violin from the passenger seat, sliding out of your car. You shut the door behind you and walked up the cement path way leading to his front door. There were bushes of flowers, all different colors along the way. It was really aesthetically pleasing.

Your heart was racing as you walked up to his front door. You checked the time on your phone. It was 10:05. You rang the door bell and held your breath for a moment in anticipation. This was the moment you had been waiting for. You watched the door crack open, expecting to see your new mentor looking just as nice as he did the other day when you saw him for the first time. But you were wrong about him dressing like that on a daily occurrence. He was in a black V-neck shirt and a purple flannel with casual jeans. You had worried about under dressing. Suddenly your makeup and nice flat shoes made you feel over dressed. "This isn't what I had expected to see." You joked, still standing on his porch.  "I'm not as classy as you think I am. You didn't have to dress so nice." "Whatever, I always try to look nice." You covered casually, you didn't want it to look like you dressed up for him.  "Sure. Come in." He invited stepping aside for you. You stepped onto the dark hardwood floor of his house. Even the floor seemed to be nicer than anything you owned. Besides your violin, that was.

"Jeez. You got quite the bachelor pad going on here."  "Yeah. I get that a lot." You looked around his front room. His house wasn't that big. It was just incredibly spacious. The front room was the living room. The entire back wall of the house was glass, so you could see into his up kept backyard. It made the house feel huge. To the right of the room, there was a pearl couch on top of a maroon rug, facing a marble fire place with a flat screen TV mounted over it. Next to the fireplace was an archway that seemed to lead to the kitchen. But, behind the couch a few feet was a white grand piano. Yoongi shut the front door as you took in the amazing design of his house and walked past you, straight to the piano you had been looking at.

"Well let's not waste time."  "Right." You agreed, taking your violin and putting it the coffee table that was in front of his couch. Taking out your violin and making sure it was in tune. "Alright. What you got for me?" You asked while standing and walking to the music stand he had set up for you.  "Are you familiar with Tartini?"  "Yeah, the Baroque composer."  "So I assume you know his most famous violin piece." You thought about it for a moment. You hadn't studied Tartini, you just knew him. So you weren't sure what piece we was referring to.  "I feel like I should. Isn't it in G minor?" Yoongi didn't say another word. He just took a book of music off his piano and looked at you, holding it up before taking a step toward you and putting the violin score on your stand. The second you saw the title your heart dropped. Suddenly, you remembered the piece he was most known for. The music book placed on your stand read: Trille du Diable across the top. Or what was better known as The Devil's Trill Sonata. It was an incredibly demanding piece, possibly one of the hardest violin sonata's written. Playing it had never even crossed your mind.

"Are you serious? You want me to play this?" You asked skeptically. Who did he think you were?  "I haven't heard this piece done the way I think it should be done. You could play it."  "You've heard me play once!"  "Yeah but it wasn't an easy piece that I heard."  "Yoongi I had been working on that since high school. I'm a senior in college and that was the first time I ever performed it. It took me that long to learn it."  "You didn't have help when you learned it."  "Yeah but, still! You don't even play violin! I know you're a pianist." Yoongi went silent, staring at you blankly before sighing and standing up.  "Do you ever shut up." He mumbled while walking to you, stopping in front of you with his left hand out like he wanted something.

"Violin." He demanded monotonous. You handed him the instrument slowly, you had a feeling he was about to prove you wrong.  "If I can play the first page of this sonata, you don't get to question me until we finish this. Deal?"  "I know I can't decline." You said quietly. You knew all too well that he was going to play it just fine and he was going to embarrass you for speaking out against him. You needed to learn to keep your mouth shut.  "Well then you're a smart girl."

You sat down on his pearl white couch and watched him as he opened the music and looked at the first page. You could see him trying out some of the notes with just his left hand and no bow as his eyes scanned the page. You could tell he was probably trying out the double stops and harmonies. He tilted his head back and to the side for a moment before took a breath in through his nose while putting the instruments under his chin. You watched him intently as he played the first note. You knew from the moment he started playing he would play this just fine. It was perfectly in tune. His vibrato wasn't specular, but violin wasn't his principle instrument so it was too be expected. As you watched him play, you got chills. You tried to fight them off but they still came anyway. It wasn't so much his playing or the way it sounded, but more that he was playing it. Something about him made it sounds so emotional and passionate. He really did know just how he wanted it to sound.

You rested your arm on the back of the couch and placed your chin on your arm. Admiring him as he played the double stops of the piece. You thought about the things Lucy said about him. You probably shouldn't be thinking of him like this, you were drinking in what you found to be attractive about him, but he just looked so good with your violin in his hand, you didn't care that he was showing you up, he looked good doing it.

Yoongi let the last note fade off your violin and pulled it out from under his chin. Not wasting a second before handing your instrument back to you, as you stood and walked toward him. "Welp, you know what this means. What I say, goes." "Yes yes, no more questions I know." You took your violin and he went over to the piano, lifting the hood that covered the keys and looked at you.  "Whenever you're ready."  "How fast do you want it?"  "I said no questions." You looked at Yoongi in disbelief. How were you not supposed to ask that? He looked at you blankly before looking away with a smile.  "I'm kidding. However fast you think it Should go. We're both sight reading so I don't think either of us would care much if we took it slow."  "Alright." You looked nervously at the music on your stand. The beginning was easy but the second page was when things heated up.

You put your bow on the string and looked at your new mentor, taking a breath in that was in time with the tempo you were planning on taking, which wasn't very fast. It was the same tempo he had just played it in. No way you would let him play this faster than you. Your pride wouldn't let you. The beginning was melodic and you really loved it. It acted as the calm before the storm. Some thing to really draw the listener in for the kill. You knew the second your eyes shifted to the next page that you were in for it. There was a reason this was the Devil's trill and not any one else's. You had a feeling your left hand and bowing arm Would be burning like hell when you were done with this.

You braced your self as the first high grace note of the of the second page hit. You played it confidently, but as soon as the fast 16th notes came in, that confidence vanished. You didn't even attempt to do the trills. You just tried your best to get the notes right. You were doing pretty well, but when the notes seemed to get denser and harder to read because of the amount of them, you started having to skip some notes. You made it out of the first section of demanding 16th notes by a thread. Yoongi stopped you when you got to the repeat.  "Let's take it a big slower."  "Please."  "How about..." Yoongi thought for a moment before tapping his fingers on the side of its piano, giving you the tempo. "That slow enough?"  "Yeah."  "Alright." Yoongi counted to four at the tempo you were going to play at and you started playing again once he got to one. Continuing the piece. You still got lost a few times but not as many.

Eventually, when you got to the parts with the crazy trills, you just tried your best and hoped it was good enough. You were really trying but you laughed as you did knowing it was way wrong. You could see Yoongi smiling too. He seemed amused. To you it felt like you were trying to do the impossible. When you got to the cadenza at the end of the piece, that was all solo violin and no piano, that feeling of trying the impossible only became stronger. Since it was a cadenza though, you had freedom with it, you could do what you wanted with it. Or, you could what you wanted with it to Yoongi's approval. Luckily because you were sight reading it, you could stop a lot to figure out what was happening in the music, and you didn't have to make sure you could catch up with Yoongi because he didn't play again till the second to last measure. So you played away, well, you tried away. This was unlike any cadenza you had ever played, or even seen before. It was insane. The whole page was practically black, like ants had been smashed on top of blank sheet music and it was your job to determine if these were even notes or not.

You slogged your way through to the last few measures, then Yoongi came in on the piano again. You started laughing again while you played, laughing at your pathetic attempt to get through this piece. Yoongi started laughing too when you tried to play the last note but ultimately gave up, not really caring anymore. "Good enough for you yet?" You joked.  "It was good for a sight read." It had taken you about 20 minutes to get through the whole piece. Which was 5 minutes longer than when it was up to speed. "You really think I can do this?" You asked after a silence filled the air. You weren't sure of yourself. You knew he probably already had a recital he wanted you to play this for, you didn't know how soon it was but you were afraid that maybe you wouldn't be able to prepare it that quickly. A piece like this could take years, depending on the musician.

"I know you can. You just have to assure yourself of that."  "Why are we working on this? I know you're not having me play a piece like this just for fun." Yoongi nodded.  "You're right. Truth is that, there's a recital on December 17th. Its not a competition, just a recital. A lot of people I know will be there and I wanted them to hear you." You didn't know what to say to that. Part of you was bummed it wasn't a competition, but the fact he felt like others needed to see you was touching.  "What's wrong? You don't seem pleased with that."  "Nothing is wrong, it's just that, I kinda wanted to do a competition with you." "Just a one rounder?" He asked, seeming disappointed with that decision.  "Yeah."  "You want to do a one round competition with this." He asked, though it was more of a statement.  "I know its not ideal, but, I just want to do one."

"No." That word stung you. He was so quick to answer.  "I'm not going to mentor a sandbagger. You're not gonna play a piece like this even if it is an advanced competition. It's a waste of a piece, no one could even touch you if we did. There would be no honor in it."  "Yoongi come on. Shouldn't I have a say in this?"  "Don't question me!" You fell silent, sighing as you put your bow on the stand in front of you.

"Fine." You agreed. Thinking up a proposition that could change everything. "Take me to nationals, then. You said if yourself that third place isn't first. Get me to first."  "Nationals aren't until February next year, its only September."  "So? Just more time to prepare. Yoongi, please. Let me have this." You pleaded, you really wanted to show him that you could do this. Then he would really have something to brag about to his colleagues.

You two met eyes, holding the eye contact, you hoped that how much you wanted was evident in your gaze.  You could practically feel that tension you had felt from him the other night at your evaluation building again. Like you had some kind of affect on him. He swallowed and looked away, closing his eyes and shaking his head in defeat. "Okay...okay. We can go to nationals." "Really?!" You yelled, you thought for sure he would deny you this.  "Yes."  "Okay! Okay, if that's the case, then let's play!" You exclaimed in excitement, putting your violin back under your chin and picking up your bow. A smile was spread across your face, eager to play what he asked you to.

He laughed at how you had reacted before looking up and at his score. "Let's Start the second page. No trills and about half as slow as normal, just get the notes in tune and we'll put everything back in later." He instructed before taking his music off the piano's stand and setting it in his lap. "Go ahead, I'll follow along." Without another word, you put your bow to the string with a new found desire. A want to go above and beyond with this piece, even if a few minutes ago you were doubting yourself. You wanted this now, and as you played the piece slower, you could hear that desire in every note. Yoongi noticed it just as much as you did.

[lolablackwrites]

Stay - Flynn x F!MC

Summary: After discovering Tanner’s body on his yacht, Flynn and MC (Jesse) try to figure out their next move and find some comfort in one another.

Notes: This takes place after the events of Chapter 4 when Flynn and Jesse discover Tanner’s body on his yacht. I’m building off an HC I started with my last Flynn fic (Together) that he and Jesse have already slept together. I hope you enjoy it!

Fanfic Master List

“Shit, what do we do?” Jesse asked as she surveyed the yacht. Tanner’s blood had begun to congeal on the floor and she felt the bile rise in the back of her throat.

“We need to go. Now,” Flynn said. Jesse didn’t move, her eyes still fixed on Tanner. “Jesse.” His voice was softer now and he took her hand in his. That broke her out of her revery and she looked down at his hand. Flynn squeezed her fingers gently. “Let’s go.”

The two of them hurried out of the yacht, scanning for the guard who was nowhere to be found. Flynn led her down the dock and back towards the gate. They had nearly reached his motorcycle when Jesse suddenly stopped.

“Jesse, we need to go,” Flynn insisted.

“We have to call someone,” Jesse said, reaching into her pocket for her phone. “We can’t just leave him there.”

Flynn considered this and then sighed. “Yes, okay, fine. But don’t call on your phone?”

“Why not?” Jesse asked, already dialing the numbers. Just before she hit the call button, Flynn snatched the phone out of her hand. “Flynn!”

“Jesse, I can’t be linked to a murder scene, especially not to a Sterling, let alone my missing sister’s fiance,” Flynn said. “You think they’ll look for the real culprit? They’ll take one look at me and haul me in while the real killer goes free.”

“Well, then, what do we do, use a carrier pigeon?” Jesse asked. Flynn pocketed her phone with one hand and gestured behind her with the other. She turned around and saw a payphone standing forlornly underneath a nearby street light. “Seriously?” she asked incredulously. “I had no idea there were even still payphones around anymore.”

“Yes, Birchport is quite a marvel,” Flynn said sarcastically. “Do you need change?”

Jesse shook her head. “No, I have some.” She turned and headed towards the payphone, digging into her pockets as she went. Jesse didn’t realize her hands were shaking until she pulled out the coins and they immediately dropped to the sidewalk, pinging against the cement in the yellow glow of the street light.

“Dammit,” she muttered, crouching down to collect them. She felt tears brimming at the edges of her eyes but she couldn’t understand why. It was just change. But as she fumbled for the coins, she couldn’t stop thinking of Tanner in the yacht, the way his throat had been cut from ear to ear. She’d never seen a dead body before.

“Hey.” Flynn’s voice was soft, but still Jesse jumped, startled. “Do you want me to make the call?”

Jesse swallowed hard, pushing away the mental image of Tanner. “No, I’m okay.” She took a composing breath and stood up as Flynn handed her the change. He didn’t look like he believed her, but he said nothing as she dropped the coins and began to dial.

“Birchport Police Department.”

“I’m calling to report a crime,” Jesse said, swallowing hard. She felt Flynn standing close behind her, leaning in to listen to the receiver.

“Can I get your name?” the voice on the other end asked.

“Tanner Sterling has been murdered,” Jesse said, ignoring the question. “He’s on his yacht. Someone cut his throat.”

“Ma’am, I need--”

Flynn hung up the phone.

“We need to go,” he said.

“But--”

“Jesse,” he said. “You reported it. You said it was a Sterling. Trust me, the cops will show up. They may not care about many people, but they definitely care about the Sterlings so they’ll be here soon. We have to go.”

Jesse nodded and Flynn took her hand as they walked back to his bike. They climbed on and Jesse wrapped her arms around him, resting her cheek against his back. Everything felt so wrong, so confusing, but in that moment, with arms around Flynn and the rumble of the bike beneath them, everything felt like maybe it could be okay.

When Flynn brought his motorcycle to a stop in front of the B&B, Jesse didn’t want to let go. Still, she forced herself to climb off.

“Are you going to be okay?” Flynn asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Jesse said. She’d meant to sound light, but her voice was strained. Flynn didn’t miss that and he settled the bike on its kickstand before standing beside her, pulling her against his chest.

“Do you want me to walk you in?” he murmured, his lips close to her ear.

“No, I’m okay,” Jesse insisted. “Really.” She let go of Flynn and turned away to walk inside. She made it about halfway up the walk before she stopped. Jesse turned around to see Flynn waiting beside his bike.

“Could you . . . maybe . . .” Jesse said, her words trailing off into the cool darkness. Without hesitating, Flynn walked up to join her and he took her hand in his. They headed into the B&B where Miss Harlenay was, thankfully, nowhere to be found.

Upstairs, in Jesse’s room, she flipped on the lights and glanced around, the irrational part of her brain half expecting to find Tanner’s dead body on her bed.

“Expecting a boogeyman?” Flynn asked, one eyebrow raised.

“Yeah, kind of,” Jesse admitted with a small laugh. She lay down on the bed, kicking off her shoes as she stared up at the ceiling. Smooth and light blue, it reminded Jesse of an endless sky. The kind that’s perfect for a wedding. What should have been Kate and Tanner’s wedding.

Flynn lay down beside Jesse and she rolled onto her side to face him. He did the same, brushing a strand of hair back from her forehead. She closed her eyes under his touch, both loving and needing to be cared for in that moment. Jesse felt Flynn’s lips gently press against her forehead before he wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close.

“Have you ever seen a dead body before?” Jesse asked quietly. She reopened her eyes, not wanting to see Tanner’s crumpled form play across her mind again. Flynn’s tattoo crept out from underneath his shirt collar and she gently traced the thick black lines with the tips of her fingers.

“Once,” Flynn said, but then stopped.

“Was it . . . were you in jail at the time?” Jesse asked.

Flynn pulled back and looked at her, a wry, amused grin on his face. “Not everything is quite as dramatic in jail as what you see on TV.”

“Sorry,” Jesse said, a warm rose spreading across her face. Flynn laughed and kissed her cheek before he curled his arms around her again. They settled into a quiet rhythm and after a while, Jesse wondered if Flynn had fallen asleep when he finally spoke again.

“It was my grandmother,” he said. “I was fourteen. She got really sick so we went to the hospital to visit her. Our mom had to talk to the doctor so she left me and Kate in with her.” He paused and Jesse could hear him swallow. “Things were fine and then . . . I don’t know, something changed. It’s not like the alarms were going off, but I could tell something was different. I pulled a couple bucks out of my pocket and sent Kate out to the vending machine. Then, once Kate was gone . . . my grandmother held my hand while I sat by her bed. She squeezed my hand three times--that was her way of saying ‘I love you’--and then her heart just . . . stopped.” Flynn stopped again and took a deep breath. Jesse could feel him shaking a little, but his voice was steady. “Then all the monitors and alarms went off and everyone came pouring back into the room. But my grandmother had a DNR so . . . that was it.”

Jesse wrapped her arm around his waist and pressed him to her. She felt Flynn tighten his grip on her a little and they lay there, holding one another.

“Thank you for telling me that story,” Jesse finally said quietly. She gently kissed him on his neck, her lip brushing the edges of his tattoo, nestling back into his arms.

“Do you want me to stay?” Flynn asked.

Jesse nodded. They lay together, neither bothering to undress or even turn off the light. They didn’t say anymore that night, just before she fell asleep, Jesse had the thought that right there, with Flynn, she felt safe in this town that was anything but.

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[dgchg]

he felt obliged to try. Reservations advised

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[arawnprydain-blog]

First Lessons & Introductions || Dead Wizard Walking

In which Arawn and Mateo come to an understanding. 

@mateodeavalor

Timestamp: May 22nd, 2018. Dusk. 

TW: none actually. (believe me i’m as surprised as you are as far as arawn is concerned.)  unless verbal manipulation makes you uncomfortable!

MATEO

When Arawn had walked away that day Mateo had been so ecstatic with what had just happened he didn’t even notice that he had no idea how to go about the task set before him.

Meet me the day after tomorrow at sun down at my house. Finding it will be your first lesson. Good luck.

He had just continued on his way, thinking about how great an opportunity this was! How he was going to be able to practice with someone who knew what they were doing, and how he was going to finally be able to become a great sorcerer like his grandfather. There was a little moment where he had mourned the fact that Alacazar wasn’t here to see it happen, that he wasn’t there at all. But it would be okay because Mateo was going to everything he could to ensure that the work Alacazar had already put into Mateo’s training was going to end with him becoming a sorcerer. No longer a 22 year old apprentice! A full on sorcerer! Who could join his friends in the fight to take back their home, and help Elena figure out the Scepter of Light.

And he was going to make Alacazar proud.

The first step to that was finding his master. Mateo had spent the whole day before flipping through his books, trying to find something that would help him get to his master’s house without becoming a stalker. That’s what magic was for! 

Well. Not to stalk people. God, no that was-. Nevermind, you get the point. He was a sorcerer’s apprentice, and he was almost positive that his master had meant for him to find him via magic. Duh.

Also lucky that he had been given pretty much two days to figure it out because man, did he need it. The tracking spell he’d found in one of his grandfather’s books had been a little difficult to get done for him. Starting with the ingredients. He had pretty much had everything he needed in the enchanted bag, he was just missing one thing, a memory of the person he was looking for.

Lucky for Mateo he had one of those himself. Not the trouble was getting it. It took hours and a lot of frustration, but eventually he managed to get his Tamborita at the right angle, the words correct, and tapped his palm to the drum wand. The memory fought against him for a moment but eventually conceded to his hand. Mateo laughed in triumph for a moment before composing himself enough to get started on the spell.

Again, it took him a few hours, having to move back and forth from the spell to the instructions, taking each step slowly to make sure he got it right. The first three times he said the incantation nothing happened and he couldn’t understand why. Outside the sun was its descent and he was running out of time. On the fifth time, because the fourth he had sneezed during it, he finally got it to work.

Alacazar’s spell had said to use it on something easy to follow that was not alive so Mateo had just used a rock he had picked up by the town’s lake. When the spell finally pulled itself together instead of splitting apart the rock jumped to life, bouncing around the room. At first he laughed, but then the thing started to knock on the window of his room and he had to quickly grab for it, saying that this was not his window to break, so they’d just have to use the front door.

The rock bounced down the sidewalk of the town, passing through people’s legs and feet easily.

Mateo on the other hand was pushing through those same people, stumbling, tripping, and yelling at the rock to wait up! Thankfully people would only watch him for a second before shrugging and moving on. Just another day in Swynlake, right?

The sun was almost gone as Mateo came sprinting down the residential street, his bag having gotten caught on a stray bush branch while the rock kept jumping along. He had to stop to bend over and put his hands on his knees, sucking in air, as he tried to figure out where the rock had gotten off to. Distantly he heard a knocking sound and turned his head to look at the house he was standing in front of. He could see his rock knocking against the door, trying to make its way inside.

 ARAWN

In all honesty he did not care whether or not the street urchin would be able to find him. If he did, very well, he would have the challenge of converting this seemingly goodie-goodie into someone he could bend and break to help him on his quest. If he did not that that would prove to Arawn that he was not worth the trouble anyhow. He would be a boy trying to fill big shoes with no power worth looking after.

The day after he had met with Mateo he had made his way home earlier than wanted in order to wait for the boy. He had a cup of tea while he watched the time. The sun would be setting soon and Arawn smirked to himself.

Very well, he thought standing from his seat. Arawn was about to make his way back into his kitchen when he heard the knock on his door. It sounded small and insignificant, not nearly as large or impacting of that of a human’s hand. He thought it to be an idiotic bird who could not tell the difference between a window and the world.

Then it came again.

And again.

And then in rapid succession.

It was annoying and Arawn stalked over to his door to tear it open.

 MATEO

He didn’t know whether the rock wanted to use the house as a shortcut or if this was where his master was. Either way, he was going to have to go get the thing. He started up the walk, slow at first. When the rock started knocking insistently, and rather rudely in Mateo’s opinion, he jogged. The enchanted bag across his bag bouncing as he did so.

“Hey!” Mateo whisper-yelled, at the thing. It stopped for a second as it noticed him again, wiggling at him, and then going back to pinging itself against the door. “Stop that!”

Mateo reached down but the rock evaded him, continuing on its quest to annoy whoever was inside the house. Be it stranger or the man he was looking for, Mateo knew they were going to be annoyed and he did not need that to be his second impression! Especially not when they were about to have a training session after this, it would be all awkward and weird if it started with his master thinking about how annoying Mateo was.

The rock didn’t seem to want to listen to him, it just wanted inside.

At one point Mateo ended up moving in the wrong way and wound up diving for the rock, landing on his stomach against the hard surface of the front porch. His hands actually ended up wrapping around the rock, its warmed surface from the summer air and sun warmed cement banging against his skin as it attempted to escape from his grip.

“Gotchya,” he said aloud right before the door next to him opened. Mateo winced as he looked up the length of the person to find his master standing there. He quickly scrambled, jumping to his feet and smiling nervously down at him.

“Hi!” he greeted, waving his hands in the shape of a cage to Arawn.

 ARAWN

His eyes were at level when he opened the door, ready to yell at whoever or whatever the hell was making such a fuss. When nothing was there he blinked in surprise.

No, wait, there wasn’t nothing there. Magic was nearby, one familiar to him. Where, though, was still yet to be found.

He looked down in time to watch Mateo raise his eyes up so that they met one another’s gaze.

Oh goody, he’d found him.

Arawn watched as Mateo made his way to his feet with difficulty, holding something with magic attached to it in his hands. He took the moment to glance at the sky, noting the darkening colors. The sun was just setting.

The boy sure knew how to cut it close.

He returned his eyes to Mateo at his greeting and nodded to him, forcing a smile to his face that was only slightly pained. This was either the biggest mistake of his entire life or one the the best ideas he had ever had. He didn’t know if the enthusiasm and excitement coming from Mateo at a nauseating degree was manageable just yet.

“I’m glad to see you’ve found me. Please, come in,” he said, stepping aside with the door as he gestured for the boy to enter. “And then we can discuss what you have in your hands.”

Inside this house was not much different from that of which he had lived in Wales. It was small, clean, and dark, just as he liked it to be. The furniture was a little more lavish than probably most people in this town went for but they were not living here. He was. There was plenty of empty wall space but things such as mirrors, clocks, and paintings hung on occasion. The lighting was more yellow in hue, and the dark burgundy rugs that sat on top of the dark stained wood floorings pulled in the light to keep it dimmed.

 MATEO

Mateo grinned proudly at Arawn as he said he was glad to see Mateo because Mateo was over the moon to have found him. He had his own house! How great was that! The apartments were great and all, reallyreally great, but they did have their downfalls. A house, though! That meant they could do stuff without being interrupted. Not that Mateo didn’t welcome his friends knocking on his door if they wanted him, it would just be kinda nice to not be on edge thinking someone might hear him say something wrong besides his master. Or listen in, or distract him.

He took the invitation with a curt nod and walked inside, his grin diminishing as his jaw went slack and he looked around in awe. It was a little...well dark if Mateo were being honest, which he usually was. The house he’d grown up in had had a lot of windows to give them natural lighting. The colors his mother had painted were bright, and everything about it had made Mateo feel at home. Arawn’s house seemed….

Cozy! 

“Oh, this?” he asked, wiggling his still enclosed hands. “It’s how I found you! My grandfather had this spell that lets you find people as long as you have a memory of them and something to take you there. I uh,” Mateo huffed nervously, “I guess I wasn’t really thinking so I used a rock instead of like a bike or something. But it worked! See-!

Without thinking Mateo opened his hands and out jumped the rock from his hold.

 ARAWN

The door shut behind the boy and Arawn folded his hands behind him, watching Mateo look at his house. He seemed impressed, though he had no reason to. Unless he lived on the streets and hadn’t seen the inside of a house. Which was probably not the case since he had clothes that were of remedial standard and looked well put together. To a degree. There was the slouchy, unconfident way he held his shoulders and the naivety that clung to him like static.

He eyed Mateo’s hands, having already guessed that he did not have the experience to have been able to find him via feeling alone and would have to use the help of a spell or potion or tracking him down by knocking on all the doors in town or roaming about until the day light withdrew.

His eyebrows drew upwards as he looked at Mateo in disapprovement, but...how interesting was it that the boy had mentioned his grandfather’s writings. A sorcerer’s journal or grimoire was one of the greatest and honorable heirlooms, in Arawn’s opinion. They were also vital to history and power and...if this Mateo was from another continent with differing histories then maybe there was something in those books that would help Arawn in his ventures.

One step at a time, though. He could read them eventually.

The rock, apparently, was not the only thing that had magic on Mateo’s person. Besides the raw magic lighting up the boy himself there was the bag wrapped around him. Enchanted no doubt.

He watched on at Mateo opened his palms and the rock lunged for him. Arawn didn’t flinch violently, simply raised his hand to catch the rock mere centimeters from making contact with his face. He hummed, turning his hand over and opening the fist he had enclosed around the rock to stare down at it. He waved his other hand over it before it could make another attempt to jump at his face, and the rock fell still in his hand. Arawn held his hand out to Mateo.

“Very well done,” he lied, “a relentless little thing you had here.”

 MATEO

Mateo gasped, his arm shooting out to try and grab the rock back up before it could do anything stupid. It was already too far out of his reach with his less than subpar reflexes. He could only watch in horror as the rock would probably his his master in the face and take Mateo’s hopes and dreams long with it.

Arawn caught it. Right out of the air. Like it was nothing!

Mateo couldn’t help but let out a laugh of disbelief and wonder because, wow! Just! Wow! He didn’t think that had been magic, but it had impressed him all the same. He fixed his footing, having stepped forwards in an attempt to get the rock back, taking him closer to his master. Mateo watched on in more awe than he’d had for the house as Arawn took the spell from the rock. His eyes were wide, aas was his smile, as he held out his hands for his master to give him back the rock.

“Thank you,” he said, ducking at the praise. He rolled the rock around in his hands, smoothing a thumb over it because, yeah, he was a little proud. Mateo had gotten a spell right! He turned his smile up to Arawn, “That means a lot coming from you.”

 ARAWN

The rock dropped from his hands down into Mateo’s. He watched as the boy preened from the simple words he had said. He wasn’t here to teach him how to take a compliment, he was here to teach him magic. And whatever he could to ensure his trust was given willingly.

Trust was a very tricky thing. Hard to gather as it was so fragile. One false move and it was ruined. Crinkled trust was usable but that untainted, untouched, untampered with trust was more powerful.

Arawn smiled at Mateo, knowing he would take for sincerity, and stepped forwards to grip one of his forearms reassuringly.

“I believe you don’t give yourself any credit, Mateo. With time you’ll learn that you are more than capable of spells and the like much more complicated than this. ” Arawn patted his arm twice before brushing past him. “Follow me, we can work in this room just here.”

He walked over to a door that did not looked like it belonged to the house because, well, it didn’t. He had put it there himself, along with the room it opened up to. It held the same feeling that the rest of the house did, but outside the sun was still shining. To his dismay. There were shelves of ingredients on the walls, and where there wasn’t a long workbench ran the width of the walls with books, journals, and loose-leaf papers piled here and there. The middle of the room was wide open, nothing but burned markings from long lost memories scorched into the surfaces.

 MATEO

Mateo’s eyebrows rose, his face opening up in wonder as he looked at Arawn telling him that he was going to learn and thrive. He felt something wedge into his throat and had to swallow it down before he made a fool of himself. There was no need to get choked up over this! It was a good thing, him being here. Arawn had seemed a little of putting upon first meeting but he was really making up for it now. Just goes to show that Mateo was right about people, you couldn’t just write them off after one meeting. There was no telling how their day had been going or if they were going through a rough time. People were good, and he believed the best in them.

Probably why when he felt a cold prickling running up his sleeve when Arawn touched his arm he wrote it off as the air conditioning instead of the red flag it should have been.

He followed after him, thinking that the room was just going to be an extra bedroom or an office or, he didn’t know actually, just a four walled room of the house’s originating structure. It never even struck him that he would be walking into a room that wasn’t even in Swynlake. And when he did, when his brain put together that the room was too big for the layout of the house he’d just been standing in and the sunlight coming in through the windows that looked stronger than that of the setting sun that he had just been witnessed to, Mateo let out a loud disbelieving laugh.

He had missed this. Magic in seemingly every nook and cranny of the world.

“Wow!” he said, stepping in to turn round and round. “This is amazing! Did you do this all by yourself? Where are we? Is the sun real or is it just artificial light so you always have a day time? This is amazing!”

 ARAWN

He watched the boy follow and then move past him into the room, shutting the door as Mateo let out a joyful noise that made him sigh through his nose. The things he did for an means to an end. It would all be worth it. Soon enough this annoying demeanor and child like attitude towards magic would be replaced with a more refined person. Mateo would no longer twirl around like a child, he would stand there at attention like the man he was supposed to be.

“No, this room has been in my family for generations,” he said, “it was my mother’s before me. It’s a fairly easy spell to attach it to any residency. Office buildings and restaurants are harder to get it to consistently open, but luckily that isn’t a problem.”

Arawn gestured for Mateo to follow him as he walked to the middle of the room and sat down on the floor. He crossed his legs over one another, and motioned for Mateo to sit across from him.

MATEO

His eyes were trying to take it all in on one glance over while his brain tried to reassure him that if he did well then he would get to be spending many days, in this place if he wanted! Or, rather, if Arawn allowed it. It had that residual magical feeling. Again, a little colder than his grandfather’s room and workshop had felt, but there was still something familiar about it. It just felt so good to know that he was in the right place, in the right presence. Finally, he was on his way to filling in the robes of the Royal Court Sorcerer of Avalor.

Mateo nodded at the anecdote, looking over the room again with new eyes. There must have been years and years of history and stories this room could tell. He almost missed the wordless command, catching it at the last second in order to stumble to catch up. After Arawn sat Mateo plopped down across from him, clutching the fabric of his pants on his thighs.

Despite the questions wanting to poor out, because he just had so many! What were they doing? How was Arawn? Was Mateo dressed correctly? Was there even a dress code for this kind thing? Was he going to learn how to-?, Mateo kept his mouth shut and blinked at his master, waiting for his instruction with excitement.

 ARAWN

He had never taken it upon himself to teach another. It was not because he didn’t think himself capable, because he was, more so than most of the atrocious masters out there, it was because he did not have the time. Time was precious and ongoing. Arawn wasn’t going to waste it on that of another. It was only now that he saw a purpose behind it all.

Sitting across from the live wire of a child, because he was still a child in many ways. His awe, the way his eyes lit up when he saw something new, and the way he walked was almost as if he was a newborn foal. Truly, Arawn wondered how he was still alive. Miracles and dumb luck most likely.

“Now,” he started, looking at the apprentice through narrowed eyes, “we do not know one another and it is not as if you’re here to learn maths. So, in order to ensure that this is going to work, Mateo, I’m going to ask something of you. You can choose not to answer, but that will end our lessons here.”

 MATEO

The smile plastered on his face dimmed a little at the thought that things would end before they even began because of a question. That was so much pressure. He was already so close, his foot already across the threshold. It was like being given a glass of water after spending a week in the desert and then being told that he couldn’t drink it. Maybe this was a lesson, too? Alacazar had done this often when he had been alive, making Mateo do seemingly useless tasks only to turn around and show him why it was necessary. Mateo would often get paranoid because of this, wondering if the request to go get them cookies from the kitchen was a test. Until Alacazar would notice the look on Mateo’s face and reassure him that it wasn’t, he just wanted one fresh from the oven before Rafa had the chance to notice they were gone.

Mateo sat up a little straighter, having been bending his back because even sitting down he was taller than Arawn which made him feel awkward or like he was undermining him in some way, and lifted his chin a tad.

“What is it?” he asked. There were only a number of things that he could think of that he couldn’t be able to answer. Those being; anything to do with the princesses that might bring them harm and anything that would put his friends or family in danger. Mateo would hold tight to that, but if Arawn was after those things, if he came right off the bat swinging with those questions then he probably wasn’t interested in teaching Mateo at all and this was all a waste of time anyways.

 ARAWN

Mateo looked like a child squaring up to take a punch. He had to keep himself from laughing.

“Very well,” he nodded, “the only thing I ask of you throughout these lessons is to not keep any secrets from me, or yourself. The only way you are going to be able to achieve the things you want, and the things I want for you, is going to be if you are honest.

“I use to be like you when I was younger. Unsure, behind the curve,” he could taste the bitter tone in his voice as he thought about those times, as he thought about his own master and the people around him who had done nothing but shut him out as he tried to reach out. It made his skin crawl, having to reveal such truths to this insect, but the empathetic path seemed to be the one that would lead Mateo to taking comfort with him.

“It was only when I came to turns with my true self that I was able to surpass all of that. In order to succeed you must only think in terms of who you are and who you wish to become. If you are not doing it for yourself then there is no point.”He cleared his throat, wanting to stop there, but knowing the next part needed to be said in order to win this boy over, “No one’s standards will ever be as high as your own. Doing things for others, that will come later. But for now you must solely think on your own magic.

In order to do this, you must come to terms with everything that is keeping you from using your magic to its full potential. This means lies, secrets, uncertainty, all those anxieties I can see flitting about. In order to teach you, you are going to need to be able to show these to me, too, as you face them. Do you understand?”

 MATEO

He didn’t know why, but hearing those things made tears sting his eyes. Which was stupid and embarrassing and made Mateo want to crawl into a hole and never come out. But he had already done that once this year. It had been awful and he wouldn’t have recommended it again. Unless he was starting to cry in front of his new master, who he was only meeting for the second time in three days.

It was just...well his mother and sister had always told him how proud they were of him, and he could see it. Bright and shiny and wonderful, but he was also their blood. Of course they were proud of him, he was proud of them, too. And his friends were all so nice to him when he fucked up or when he didn’t fuck up. Always trying to pick him up and dust off the dirt from his clothes. Sometimes he wondered if they were all really telling the truth or if they had all been exposed to one another for so long, being around him as a terrible sorcerer who they couldn’t rely on, and they had somehow adapted to being disappointed with him. They forgave him for how he couldn’t do anything because they just knew it before they even asked. Like they expected the failure before it even happened in order to not be let down.

So to hear from a stranger the truth, the real truth, the one that he wished someone would just come out and say already, was heart wrenching. It told him that his thinkings had been real because Arawn had no reason to lie. He was wanting what was best for Mateo, and that was the truth. That Mateo was a bad sorcerer because he let himself be. There was no other reason. He’d been given the basic tools and principles, he could perform spells correctly under immense amounts of pressure but never when he wanted, and he worked hard for it. He knew it, too.

It was why that whole dream, spell, town hallucination, thing last December had gotten to him. He had been powerful, his powers of that world had been fully formed and he could remember how easy it had been to use them. Here Mateo struggled to see ingredients, he struggled to muster up enough magic to be able to cast a simple spell. There had been this freedom that was unlike anything he had ever felt in the real world, and it scared him to think that it was his own fault for not being able to do anything he was supposed to at this age.

He was holding himself back because he was too scared. And Arawn could see it. Mateo cleared his throat and nodded, sniffing a little as he hadn’t let the tears fall from his eyes and, well, they had to go somewhere.

“Okay,” he answered softly, nodding again. “I will.”

ARAWN

The rise of emotion from Mateo was not surprising, he had been expecting it. This was becoming a joke. A few pretty words sprinkled with a sympathetic or caring tone and the boy had turned to putty. 

He thanked every doubt, every terrible event, every failed attempt at magic from this idiot’s hand for this moment. If he had any doubt about the dedication this child was going to be putting forth in these lessons before then this moment had seen them out. 

All he had to do was sing praises and tell Mateo that he was proud of him whenever he did anything correctly. Such simplicities would please him enough to come back time and time again.

Eventually his usefulness would come into play. Until then he would work on cutting down that easily excitable personality he was hoisting around. Tear down this framework of a young boy who looked at the world with optimism and wonder. Had Mateo not had it in the first place then maybe he would have been able to see Arawn’s truth, the world’s truth.

Oh well. One man’s trash is another man’s treasure and all that.

“Good,” he said, leaning back with a smile. “And I shall do the same for you. No secrets. Everything you see is everything I am. Anything you ask I shall answer to the best of my knowledge. Now, a few ground rules.

“Firstly we will meet every other day, and when we are not meeting I will be giving you work to do, so it won’t be as if you’re resting. I am not here to waste your time, so do what I ask of you and we won’t have any problems. Do not contact me unless absolutely necessary. I have shown you my home, but I do not expect anyone but you to be knocking on my front door.” The last thing he needed was whoever hung around or were friends with this moron to be crawling around here.

“Do we understand one another?”

 MATEO

All of those were perfectly fair things to ask of him. Honestly he was happy with the one day in one day off set up, he had been expecting the five to two day ratio like everything else but this was probably a better system. Arawn knew best, after all!

He nodded along, smiling all the way through it. They wouldn’t be very hard to follow either as he hadn’t planned on telling any of his friends where Arawn lived. They wouldn’t really care, would they? Except maybe Gabriel. But Mateo didn’t want Gabe to scare his master off either. And he wasn’t going to tell Arawn who he was or that he was connected to Elena in anyways. Unless he asked him. Which he wouldn’t! Because it wasn’t that obvious. There were other places he could be from! Sorcerers came from all over the world, and he could be from any number of those places. Not telling Arawn and straight up lying were two totally, completely, different things anyways. So as long as Arawn didn’t ask he would be fine. And if he did maybe he would understand that Mateo wouldn’t be able to say anything.

If he didn’t then the choice there would be easy. Devastating, but easy.

“We do,” Mateo said with one final nod that was really more of a bow of his head. He was practically bouncing where he sat now, feeling the introduction portion of this coming to an end. Mateo grinned at his master before turning to the room once more. “So, where do we start?”