#i am so close to acting like a downright fool tonight

[d-nghy-ck]

what i remember your writing by - the fleeting lines of imagery that encapsulate the mood of the piece so well without actively describing the emotions, you know? it's so, so wonderful and artistic the way you pull it off. take this line from Citrus Summer for instance: "Your fingers break the peel as your gaze returns to him, the view enhanced by the spritz of citrus visibly floating in the sunlight." it feels like a stolen moment in time or an oil painting coming to life SHEER BRILLIANCE 😭

(1/??) tumblr is acting out and my asks don't seem to get through to you 🤬🤬🤬 BUT ANYWAYS EXPECT A FLURRY OF NOTIFICATIONS because i plan to geek out in full, please and thank you. so this is from Silk: "A passing car shines headlights through the window of your apartment, briefly revealing the glimmer of his hooded eyes gazing down on you." - this little snippet flashes in my mind whenever i think about Silk (which is.... quite... often....)

(2/??) as i was saying!! i completely adore how that little detail is literal and yet somehow metaphorical at the same time and it's really beautiful. tangible but it turns intangible the longer you linger on it and just. PURE ART!! i hope this makes sense fhjdkfhjdkfj but i have a tendency to fixate on feelings and sensations more than, information or details irl too, so the way you write things is just very. pretty to me heheh

(3/??) the closing lines of Peach Tea: "... you’re rendered breathless as he matches the scene around him; the light filtering through the trees casts his deserving halo, his eyes glow ..." first off, the way you make words flow is just SEXY. second, i really really really like the imagery here. DHJSKDJDK don't have words to do you justice but your writing makes me feel things. wonderful, exquisite things 😭💞 thank you for sharing your talent with the world

MIA??????

Ahhh thank you so much for sharing the parts you enjoyed; not only is this so heartwarming and validating for me, but also helpful to know what readers enjoy in particular <3 I really really appreciate it. And from a sis as well-read and well-spoken as you, I am just so flattered. 

I also fixate on feelings and sensations more than information or action!?! I’m pretty sure you just read my mind??? Ahahah <3 Looks like we were meant to be friends, because we just understand each other’s viewpoint too well not to be. Tbh, my focus on detail and senses in my writing is something I contemplate often, if it’s too much or too heavy in a way that it might plunge the reader down, away from the tempo of the piece, but hearing that you enjoy it really helps!! I’ll just keep trying my best to facilitate flow while continuously loading the senses. Feelings and emotions, though? We will never diminish them, they will always be fully loaded, bursting. 

I’m sorry tumblr was a pain in the butt, though your asks made me beam ehehe <3 All this flattery TT^TT “an oil painting come to life” sjhakfgh. Also thank you for thinking of Silk.... often..... ahahah <3 Everyone comments on the headlights in Silk, always. People love a good mood lighting ;) Ok, but can you imagine being in the dark with him, following him ambiguously with your hands, when suddenly his eyes glow with a passing light, ohohoho instant h***y!!! Alert!!!! Alert!!!! 

I’m proud of the closing lines of Peach Tea, too!! They say a lot about how she perceives him through imagery without explicitly stating it, as you say. I’m really satisfied with them!! 

Take care Mia, I appreciate you so much <3 You sweet, kind soul. 

[diaryofabeautyfiend]

* ⚠️ Warnings: A lot of angst. Mentions of sex. A little fluff. People drinking alcohol. ⚠️ This one shot was never meant to be a series. All of your love and appreciation spurred me in to write more. Hope you like this chapter. I cried while I was writing it. Part 5 is the finale.

Plain Gold Ring IV:

You Don’t Know What Love Is

“How could you know how lips hurt

'Till you've kissed and had to pay the cost

Baby, 'till you've flipped your heart and you have lost

You don't know what love is” Nina Simone

———————————————————————

Being on the board of your firm’s charity gala was a huge deal. On top of your normal duties you were in charge of the silent auction. The final auction items had all arrived and you had been busy categorizing everything and preparing for the night that you barely have time to focus on the Andy and Lori situation.

Not that it wasn’t grating on your last nerve. You were so short with everyone at work that it was becoming a problem. Stan had to have a talk with you. You just had to focus and get through this event.

Andy helped as much as he could. He was supportive when you were frustrated and quickly learned when to back off. Sometimes you were up until the wee hours he would literally drag you to bed. He knew how to keep your mind off of work for a while.

You were so busy that you hadn’t even purchased a dress. You and Liz went shopping after work. She was the only person to know about you and Andy.

“What do you think of this one? Think Andy will like it?” You wore a black long sleeved gown with a v that went down to right above your belly button and a slit up to your mid thigh.

“I mean, I’d fuck you.” she deadpanned. This was the dress. You would be comfortable in it all night. You also looked like a powerful bitch who would slit your throat.

———————————————————————

You had to be at the site earlier than the guests so you did your hair and most of your makeup at home. Andy had not seen your dress on purpose. You wanted him to see you when he walked in with Lori. Your petty brain was on overdrive.

“Well you look great” Andy said pointing to your sweats.

“Shush. I’m not putting on my dress and heels until the last second. I pressed your shirt it’s hanging in your closet. I also picked up your tux from the cleaners.”

He slid his arms around you and looked at you in the mirror. “Why are you so good to me?” His hands roamed your body and made contact with your bare skin under your tshirt.

“I am gonna be late.” You swatted his hands away.

“You have four hours. Didn’t you hire party planners?”

“Yes. I still need to get my nails done and set up the auction. You can have your way with me later.”

“But I want to now” he whined. “Please. I’ll be really quick.”

You giggled , “Sounds really fun for me. You know I would never ever miss an opportunity to cum all over your cock…” your face was so close to his your lips were nearly touching. Your hands were on his chest. His were on your hips pulling you closer. “But I have to go. Bye, baby.”

“Tease! You’ll pay for that.” he called after you.

You winked at him as you headed out of the door, “I certainly hope so.”

All Andy could do was laugh. He wished he could spend this evening whisking you around the dance floor. He couldn’t wait to see how beautiful you would look tonight.

In two days you would be on your way to Chicago. The movers were already on the way with your furniture. Your suitcase was in the process of being packed. He hated it. He was taking a long weekend to help you get settled. By Wednesday morning you would have to say goodbye. His heart broke a little every time he thought about it. Every single day he wanted to say he loved you. He was reluctant to ruin what you had knowing there was no way around the inevitable.

———————————————————————

Everything was set. The only thing left was for you to get dressed. You re-sprayed your hair and put on your jewelry. You spritzed Chanel over your wrists neck and cleavage. Last thing was to coat your lips in a matte oxblood to match your nails. You looked sleek and downright terrifying. Just as you planned.

“They just walked in.” Liz whispered from the doorway.

“How does she look?”

“Pretty and appropriate.”

“How do I look?”

“Like a bad bitch. Let’s go.”

You walked out with your shoulders back and your head high. You made sure the gown swished enough to expose your legs and the impossibly high heels you wore. Andy saw you from across the room and stopped dead in his tracks. You looked like you were walking in slow motion. He almost dropped his drink.

You made a b line for Stan and his wife Elaine who were standing directly behind the other couple. He smelled your perfume wafting off of you when you walked by. He almost lost it right there.

“Y/N! What a knockout. Elaine, isn’t she gorgeous?” You kissed his cheek with the side of your mouth careful not to smear your lipstick.

“Christ, Stan. Keep it in your pants. You look beautiful, honey.”

“Thank you, Elaine. So good to see you. Lovely as always.”

“Thank you, dear. Now how is it possible you are here without a date? Stan, you work the poor thing so much she can’t even find a man. That’s why she’s leaving you.”

“And for many other reasons” you joked. You were very much aware that Andy was behind you. “Elaine have you met Andy and Lori Barber?”

You took Lori’s hand and ushered them over. “No, I haven’t. So nice to finally meet you.”

“You get to know each other. I’m going to grab a drink. Can I get anyone anything?” Such a good hostess.

“I’d love a scotch. Elaine wine?” She nodded.

“Andy?”

“You won’t be able to carry all of those drinks. Let me come with you.” Andy patted Lori on the arm. “I’ll be right back.” When you were far enough away he took a long look at you. “How long til I get to rip that dress off of you?”

Your cheeks heated, “You won’t be ripping anything. This dress cost a fortune. It’s far too pretty to ruin especially with panty lines.”

“Fuck. I’m gonna ruin that pussy.”

“Promises promises, Mr. Barber.” He groaned and adjusted his pants.

“Such a tease.”

You delivered the drinks and excused yourself. For the rest of the night Andy only caught glimpses of you. He tried not to make it obvious but Lori could see. Once upon a time he looked at her like that. Except the way he looked at you was a look of complete adoration.

You tried avoiding the Barbers all night. The whole time Andy schmoozed and did his Andy thing, his arm was around her waist. She kept her hand on his chest. They were always finding little ways to touch each other. When he kissed her temple you nearly broke the clipboard you were holding.

Stan stood next to you draining his fourth drink, “You ok there, champ? Sweet couple aren’t they?”

“Yeah. They’re adorable.” You slammed the rest of your Old Fashion.

“Reminds me of me and Katherine . Remember Katherine?”

“Was she your second or third wife? I don’t remember.” Your words were dripping with sarcasm.

“Second. Every time we had one of these things Katherine was on my arm. She was great at this shit. She’d chat it up with the partner’s wives earning me brownie points while I fucked Elaine’s brains out in the John. Know why I married Elaine? She was the best goddamn litigator I’d ever seen. Gets my dick hard every time I think about it. She lit a fire in me that couldn’t be stoked. Kind of like you do for Andy.”

You blanched, “What do you mean?”

“Oh save it. I know you’re fucking. The whole office does. I see how he looks at you. But you can’t see how you look at him. Don’t let the act fool you. He’s stupid for you. Let me keep him for a couple of months before you move him to Chicago ok? He can make us some serious money.” He patted you on the ass and went back to Elaine. She was waiting for him with a big smile that he drunkenly devoured.

———————————————————————

The band started playing. When a slow song came on Lori took Andy’s hand. “Dance with me?”

For possibly the last time he held her. She closed her eyes, rested her head on his shoulder and let him lead her around the dance floor. He wasn’t reciprocating with the same tenderness. His eyes were held on you.

You watched him place his hand on the small of her back. The way he held her hand was a practiced action that he had perfected over sixteen years. When he let himself get lost for just a moment he was overcome with grief for himself and Lori. He pressed a kiss to her lips. Her heart fluttered and she kissed him back. You rushed out of the room when you saw them.

Lori felt her husband’s body stiffen. His hold on her loosened. It felt like he was forcing his body to stay with her. She understood why his mood shifted when she saw you leaving. She looked up at him. His eyebrows were knitted together with worry.

“How long have you been sleeping with her?” she asked quietly.

“A month. Maybe longer.” He couldn’t look at her. Couldn’t lie.

“So basically since you left.”

“My second day there. Lori, I’m so sorry. It just happened. I wasn’t looking for anything.”

“No, but you were open to something happening. Does everyone here know? Of course they do. I’m so humiliated. I think I’d like to go home.”

“I’ll get the car.”

“No. I can get myself home. This night is too important for you to leave early.”

“Lori…”

“I don’t want to be around you right now, Andy. I can’t.” She let go of his hand and left. She carried herself with poise and dignity but inside she was dying.

You were nowhere to be found. He spotted Liz who was chatting with some friends. “Where is she?”

“Auctions over. She left.”

“Shit. Thanks.”

“Andy, be gentle with her. Idiots.”

He ran to the valet and jumped in his car to race home. When he got out he noticed a suit case in the back of your car. The elevator was taking forever. He took the stairs two at a time to reach you before you got away.

He heard your heels clacking on the hardwood. Clothes were everywhere. “Y/N?”

“Bedroom.” You were still in your pretty dress. Still all made up throwing things in another suitcase.

“Going somewhere?”

“Hotel.”

“Mind telling me why?” His voice was hoarse like he had been screaming.

“The way you held her…you kissed her.” He grabbed your hands to make you look at him but you yanked them away. “This was stupid. I should have never gotten involved with you in the first place. Married men never leave. Please get out of my way, Andy. I have to go.”

“You think this was a mistake?” Slow tears rolled down his face. He undid his bow tie and sat down. “I don’t. I’m glad we met.”

“Why? Because I feel like my heart has been ripped from my chest. So why are you glad?”

“Because you reminded me what it felt like to be cared for. To feel loved. You showed me what I had been missing for a long time now.”

“Happy to have helped.” You continued emptying drawers.

“Please stop packing. Please.” You wouldn’t look at him. He tried grabbing you several times but you moved beyond his reach. “Damn it! Why? Why do you always run when things get hard?”

“I’m not running.”

“No? So Chicago just came up? Or did you put out your resume the second you heard I got the job you wanted?”

Your cheeks heated. “You know how this business works. If I got passed over this time, they’ll keep doing it.”

“Right. And tonight? The second things get weird you run.”

“You kissed her!” You were trying not to cry.

“I know. I was sad. We’ve been Andy and Lori for the majority of our lives. Tonight felt so final. I know we’ll always have Jacob but, there is nothing else there. Please. I am so in love with you. Please.” He dropped to his knees and hugged you tight around your waist.

“Andy, you have to let me go.” He pressed his face into your stomach and broke down. “Andy? Sweetie? Come on. Let go.”

“Tell me you don’t love me and I’ll let you walk out of that door. I’ll never contact you again. But I know you do.”

“Stop….”

“Aren’t you tired of running?” You were tired. You ran away from your family, former lovers, dead end jobs. You wanted to finally be settled. Leave with a clean break. There was nothing clean about this. If you said you loved him there was no going back. This would be at least three years of a long distance relationship because he won’t leave Jacob. You didn’t want him to leave his son. This would be you exhibiting a level of trust you weren’t sure you had. He fell in love with you so fast. In your absence, what would stop him from falling for someone else? You were so weak when it came to Andy. Fucking perfect at everything Andy fucking Barber. Why couldn’t you shake him? Why couldn’t you just walk away like you have been trying to do since the first time you had sex?

BECAUSE WE LOVE HIM YOU DUMB TWAT. Your brain screamed. You couldn’t make your mouth work. You ran your fingers through his hair, “I love you, Andy.”

He pulled you down onto the floor and kissed you with abandon. “Say that again.” he whispered against your mouth.

“I love you. I love you. God help me, I love you.” A smile was plastered on his face for the rest of the night. Packing could wait.

[ladyloptr]

•Merely A Maid•

Request: twt@LOKIBARBZ “idk if ill be able to explain this well enough so apologies for that but what if the reader is a maid/servant of the palace and loki notices her just doing her duties while at a meeting or something and when he stands as shes cleaning up the meeting table he notices how much smaller she is than him physically (cough cough size kink) n requests for her to work on his floor more just to tease her n intimidate her cuz hes mean like that. like maybe...... while shes tidying up his chamber he pulls her onto his lap after having a drink or two n starts praising her for being a good servant.”

Fandom: Thor 1

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Warnings: Smut, dub-con, size kink, praise kink, master-servant relationship.

{————}

You’ve worked in the palace nearly your entire life. Your mother came to Asgard with you when you were young, escaping a crumbling marriage. She was lucky enough to be recruited by Queen Frigga, and so, she was hired to work in the Queen’s chambers. You grew up with all the other servant’s children, not allowed to mingle with any of the noble or royal children who resided in the palace.

Your mother eventually passed away, succumbing to the stresses of servantry, leaving you to support yourself. Having no other options, you ended up having to apply for a servants job in the palace, and so here you are, refilling the goblets of court members with ale and Æsir wine.

There is a meeting going on, though you’re not quite sure what is being discussed. Something about someone evading taxes and alliances with Vanaheim, but you aren’t sure. You’ve been too focused on your duties to eavesdrop into matters that have nothing to do with you.

So focused that you’ve neglected to notice the pair of sharp emerald eyes watching you. Apparently, you’re not the only one neglecting to pay attention.

The younger prince’s curiosity is piqued when he realizes has never seen you before. His prides himself in knowing something about everyone, and yet for some reason he’s never seen you before. His eyes drift to your pointy ears, allowing him to come to the conclusion that you’re Ljölsafar (Light Elf).

“Allfather, Lord Fjörnd will be most displeased with your decision. He believes that his region-“

“-Well, Lord Fjörnd is not King of Vanaheim. My alliance is with King Freyr.” The Allfather says. “If he wishes to debate the increase in trade taxes, he may speak to Freyr. This meeting has come to a close, you are all dismissed.”

While all of the court members leave, Loki hangs back, remaining seated while watching you clean up the table. You place the goblets on a tray and use a rag to clean up any drink that may have spilled onto the table. You are confused when you notice that Loki is still there.

“My prince...?”

Loki rises from his seat and it’s then that he becomes overtly aware of how short you are, in comparison to him. Æsir and Vanir women are known for their tall stature, while Ljölsafar women are much shorter.

The fact that he towers over you makes him excited. He is vaguely aware of his dominance kinks, but never truly had the opportunity to explore them. Perhaps, if given the chance...

You avert your eyes to the floor, unable to look anywhere near him while he’s staring so intensely at you. “My prince... is there something wrong...?”

“I am reassigning you.”

Reassigning? You think to yourself. Can he even do that?

“My father placed you in your current position as a general custodial servant, am I correct?”

You nod, keeping your eyes downcast.

“I believe your talents will be useful elsewhere. I am in need of a new chambermaid, as my previous one has retired.” Loki allowing his eyes to shamelessly look over your body.

“I-I don’t have many talents, sir.”

“You are a fast cleaner and you listen to directions very well, from what I’ve seen during that dreadful meeting.” Loki says. “Not many servants in this palace are useful for anything more than scrubbing floors. You will be working as my chambermaid starting tomorrow.”

“How will I know what to do, sir? I haven’t the training.”

“Hildegard will tell you everything you need to know. My requests are very simple and few in number.” Loki drawls. “I doubt you need extensive training for something so uncomplicated.”

“I... understand, sir.” You bow, and gather the tray of goblets and cloth. You keep your eyes to the floor even as you exit the room, and you are quite certain you hear Loki chuckle to himself.

A few months later, and you come to realize why they call Loki the God of Mischief.

You had expected being a chambermaid would be hard work, however, it’s just the opposite.

Most of the work you find yourself doing are the mundane things, such as making sure his bed is neat after he’s gotten up in the morning.

There’s barely any actual work for you to do, as Loki’s chambers are always so spotless, he hardly ever leaves you anything to clean, besides the bathroom of course.

Speaking of the bathroom... he has started asking you to bathe him, and you know that he’s only started doing it just to be mean.

He somehow found out that you’re a virgin.

The mischievous thing, ever since he discovered that information, he’s been terrorizing you. Sometimes he’ll act like a complete fool and ask you undress him, as if he’s suddenly forgotten how to do it himself.

And then there are times he’ll just be downright terrifying. A good example being the one time he asked you a question and opted to stand over you and gaze down at you as if you were his prey and he were the predator. It took a while for you to stutter out an appropriate answer.

A feast is currently going on tonight, in celebration of Thor and his friends coming out victorious in a recent battle, and Loki is surprisingly absent from his chambers. He usually doesn’t attend such things, finding the rowdy crowds of people to be quite distasteful.

You busy yourself with making sure the bathroom is clean, his bed is neat, and his bookshelves are in order. You are so engrossed in your work that you don’t hear Loki enter. He slowly closes the door behind himself and watches you dust around the corners of his chambers.

You yelp in surprise when you turn around to see him standing there staring at you. Your ears turn red as you wonder how long he’s been standing there for.

“I-I’m sorry, my prince... I didn’t... I didn’t hear you come in.”

Loki waves his hand dismissively, then walks by you to sit on the edge of his bed. You notice his movements are somewhat sluggish, so you decide to speak up.

“My prince... are you well?”

“I had a few drinks, I am fine, merely tipsy.” Loki motions for you to come towards him, and so you do, albeit with a bit of hesitation.

“Sir...?”

You let out a startled squeak he takes your waist with both of his hands, spins you around and pulls you onto his lap, your back facing him.

“M-my prince?” You squirm in his strong hold, only exciting him more. “What are you doing?”

“You’re such a good servant.” He drawls. “Such a good girl. I’ve wanted you ever since I laid my eyes on you.” He licks your earlobe causing you to jump. “Ljölsafar are such delicate things. Knowing that I could accidentally break you in half excites me.”

You gasp when Loki starts sucking on the spot behind your ear. He undoes the strings on the front of your dress, and then pulls the fabric down enough for your breasts to pop out. He pinched both of your nipples, rolling them in between his fingers as they harden. You start squirming again, and he clicks his tongue in disapproval.

“Ah, ah, ah. Don’t do that.” Loki warns in your ear. “Be a good girl for me and stay still.”

Loki slips one of his hands underneath the skirt of your dress, his fingers snaking up your thighs. He stops at your panties and rubs his fingers against the damp material. Without another word he rips the cloth, now leaving you bare for him.

“Such an obedient girl. So well behaved.” He mutters, then pushes two of his fingers into you. “So wet. Is this for me, girl?”

You squeal, bewildered by his actions. “M-my prince, I’m n-not worthy-!”

“To the eyes of the court you may not be, but to me...?” He groans. “I can’t wait to deflower you. To be the first to fill you with my seed.”

He gently pumps his fingers, mindful of the fact that you’re untouched, and you arch your back against him in response.

“You are much too tight, my dear.” He chuckles, darkly. “I am afraid I might rip you in half when I take you.”

Despite the fact that he told you not to do it only moments before, you still can’t help but squirm underneath his attentions. You whine when he pulls his fingers out.

“On your knees, girl.” He orders, pushing you to kneel in front of him. You look away as he undoes the placket of his pants, freeing his erection.

Loki grabs your face, forcing you to look at him. Your ears are red and your face is flushed. “You are so bashful. It only makes me want to break you even more.” He tangles his fingers into your hair and tugs you forward, the swollen head of his cock touching the tip of your nose.

“Suck.”

You look up at him, fearfully. You’ve never given oral to anyone, let alone someone of high authority.

It’s not like you can disobey, though, and the scariest part may be that you sort of want to do this for him.

So, you take his head into your mouth and run your tongue over the slit. A loud groan tells you that you’re doing well so far. Your mouth is small, so you’re only able to fit a small portion of his cock in your mouth. You use your hands to massage the rest of his length.

“Ohhh, your mouth is sin.” He hisses.

After few long minutes of this, he pulls you off of him, and picks you up. He turns and suddenly drops you onto the bed, letting out a mischievous laugh when you yelp in surprise.

With a snap of his fingers, his armor and clothing is gone. He hurriedly pulls your dress down and off of you, absentmindedly throwing it off to the side. Your hands grip his upper arms as he cages you between him and his bed. You can feel the head of his cock nudge your entrance. It feels so big, you’re unsure how that’s going to fit.

“My prince... I don’t think I can...”

“You can.”

You blush heavily as your next words leave your mouth. “I... I don’t think it will fit.”

“I will make it fit.”

He hoists your legs up onto his shoulders and captures your mouth into a kiss. You let his tongue slip past your lips, and you soon come to realize that he has been trying to distract you when you feel a sharp pain followed by a burning sensation. He swallows your cries of pain and proceeds to slowly push in further.

By the time he’s fully sheathed inside of you, you’re shaking and your face is strained with tears. He takes his hand and wipes your tears away.

“I am going to move.” He informs you. “The pain will lessen over time.”

You aren’t sure if he’s telling the truth or if he’s lying out of desperation for some sort of release.

Loki slowly rocks back and forth, slightly shaking from restraining himself. All he truly wants is to fuck you through a wall, but that would have to wait. The last thing he needs is the whole palace thinking that he’s murdering you in his chambers.

“I can’t do this forever.” Loki grits out. He’s slowly losing his patience.

“It’s... it’s okay.” You breathe out. “It’s still there... but it’s starting to go away...”

Loki hums in acknowledgment and starts thrusting harder, speeding up his pace. You moan, the feeling of pleasure finally overcoming the pain you were experiencing earlier. He looks down at you, and the sight of seeing your small cunt being absolutely wrecked by his large cock drives him insane.

“Norns, you’re so tight.” He moans. “I could just sit here inside of you for days.”

You sigh, blissfully. You feel properly filled to the brim, his girth pleasantly stretching you out. A high pitched moan escapes you when he starts thumbing your clit, massaging it in tight circles. Something inside of you starts to knot tightly, and you desperately buck your hips up to meet his.

“My prince-! I-“ He cuts you off with another kiss, his hips now frantically thrusting.

“Cum.” He orders, his voice hoarse. “Cum for me. Cum for your prince.”

Your eyes roll back and your mouth hangs open in a silent scream. The feeling of your muscles squeezing his cock pushes him over the edge right after you. He stills and pulls you as close as possible to his body, ensuring that you take every drop of his cum. He gives one last weak thrust before collapsing on top of you.

“I am keeping you.” Loki mutters, his voice muffled by the pillow. “You will not allow anyone else to touch you. You are mine now, understand?”

“I understand.” You say softly.

He rolls off of you, and you’re mildly surprised when he pulls you up against his chest.

“We... didn’t use a contraceptive elixir.” You mutter, somewhat worried about what that might mean for you.

“I know. I did say you are mine, yes?”

“I could be flogged for laying with you, or even killed if I am found pregnant with your child.”

“And you won’t have to worry about that for very long.” Loki says with a mischievous tone. “I am, in fact, next in line to become king.”

You have no idea what he’s planning, but you don’t ask, instead choosing to stay silent.

Before you know it, you’ve drifted off to sleep.

[biribirichan1]

Dance with me

Authors note: So I’ve been listening to too much dance music, and this fic was born out of that. I think it’d be really cute if Ichigo took Rukia dancing <3

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Kubo.

...

“Yo, Ichigo!”

Ichigo looked back from his desk to see the raven haired shinigami crouched on his windowsill.

“Rukiaaa!” His face broke into a smile. “You’re here a day early.”

He’d long stopped asking her why she never bothered using the door instead of his window, now that his entire family knew about her. Rukia stepped on his bed and sat down, grinning from ear to ear. “Ha ha, surprised fool? I did double time, and finished all my paper work ahead of schedule, just for you. You’d better be gratefu- wait, why are you dressed so fancy?” “There’s a graduation party tonight at Keigo’s house since his parents are away,” Ichigo explained, blushing a little. “Inoue and Tatsuki basically wouldn’t take no for an answer.” Rukia cringed internally. What a fool she was! Of course, Ichigo had plans. What 18 year old wouldn’t on their graduation night? Trying hard not to let her disappointment show, Rukia pulled out the latest manga volume she had from her uniform and said, “Good thing I’m always prepared! I’ll have a nice evening catching up to this while you party, hehe.” She grinned for extra emphasis on her happiness. “Whatchu talking about, baka?” Ichigo exclaimed. “Now that you’re here, you’re obviously coming with me. Chad and Ishida will be there too.” Peeking his head out of his room, Ichigo yelled, “Yuzuuu, can you give me a hand here, please?”

“Ichigo, I don’t have any clothes for the party! Besides, you know I don’t like crowds - I’d much rather read this manga.” Rukia spluttered. Yuzu came in at that moment asking, “What’s up Ichi-nii?” “Perfect timing, Yuzu - I want to take Rukia to the part -”

“EEEEH! Karin!! Rukia-ne is here!” Yuzu jumped on the shinigami. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming earlier, Rukia ne? I’d have made your favourite snacks!”

Turning her head to her brother, she asked, “Ichi-ni, are you taking her to the party? I can dress her up!”

“Thanks Yuzu.” Ichigo flashed his sister a grin. Ah, she makes him so happy, Yuzu thought with a sigh. “Come with me, Rukia-ne, I’ll make you the star of the party.” “Ichiiiigo, don’t make me do this,” Rukia pleaded. The last thing she wanted was to keep Ichigo from having a normal high school night with his friends. She made one last attempt. “What about my manga?” Rukia asked.

“What about it?” Ichigo smirked. “Rukia, that volume came out a week ago. Do you mean to tell me that you haven’t read it yet? Excuses!” He took the manga out of her hand just as Yuzu dragged her out of Ichigo’s room into her own, yelling for Karin to come help her. ... The music blared in Rukia’s ears as she stepped out of the dance floor, feeling awkward. She clearly didn’t fit here - a hundred and fifty year old shinigami in the midst of all these teenagers, shining with their youth and life in front of them. Even Yuzu’s fashion magic couldn’t change that fact. Tugging at her sequined dress and wishing it covered more of her, she sighed and sipped on her drink. The coolness of it soothed her. Why were drinks in the human world so delicious? What was it that Ichigo called this drink again - it was named after a fighting move. Fruit tackle? Fruit kick? No, that wasn’t it. It’d come to her - if it wasn’t for her pounding headache. She definitely needed some air. She looked out to the dance floor, she saw Ichigo dancing with Inoue, Tatsuki and Ishida. She blushed at how attractive he looked in his party wear. Inoue too looked gorgeous, her hair swaying with the music, and her blue dress perfectly matching the flower pins in her hair. “This is how it should be,” she said softly, willing for her aching heart to accept reality.

Rukia had died so young that she never really pondered on what it meant to be alive. She loved the sense of purpose her shinigami duties gave her and had worked hard to go up the ranks. She knew Soul Society was where she belonged. But at moments like this, when she saw Ichigo’s youth and vitality up close, she couldn’t help but wonder what it meant to be alive. What would have happened if she was just an ordinary girl who met Ichigo at school? Would they still be as close? Would they have fallen in love perhaps – and dated like an ordinary couple? Gone to the movies, gone to parties like this one and danced together?

“Rukia, there’s no point in thinking like that,” she chided herself softly. “I’m a Kuchiki, and Kuchikis don’t act like a shoujo manga heroines. What I need is some air.” Looking over at Ichigo and satisfying herself that he was too busy to notice her slipping away, she made her way out to get some air.

...

Stepping out into Keigo’s garden, she breathed in the cold air into her lungs. Ahhh! Much better, she thought. Being an ice elemental type definitely had its advantages – the cold was never a bother. “Yo. Mind if I join?” Rukia whirled around, “Ichigo! How’d you know I came out?” “Hm? Felt your reiatsu go farther away from me.” Ichigo replied as if it should have been obvious.

Rukia laughed. “Who are you fooling, baka? You suck at detecting reiatsu.”

“Not yours, Rukia.” Ichigo said smiling.

Rukia felt herself melting in his smile. Shaking her head out of the trance, she switched topics - “You’re in a good mood, today!”

“Course I am. Finally graduating high school, my friends are all here, you’re here. Why wouldn’t I be in a good mood?” Ichigo shrugged.

“The real question here is - why are you unhappy? You’ve been sighing non-stop. Something up in Soul Society?” He looked at her questioningly, worry etched in his eyes. Rukia looked up at Ichigo and considered lying. Tonight of all nights, she didn’t want to take away from his happiness. There were always things happening in Soul Society that were downright worrying, so she was sure she could make something up. But she also wondered if she’d be able to get away with it. Part of her knew she couldn’t lie convincingly to Ichigo. She’d be caught - just like with the manga. He simply knew her. Inside and out. Sighing, Rukia said softly, “I don’t belong in your world, Ichigo.”

She saw Ichigo looking at her incredulously, about to counter, so she held up her hand in defence and continued. “I don’t know any of the songs that are playing, I can’t dance, I don’t even know what this stupid fruit-kick drink is called!” “You mean - fruit punch?”

Rukia stilled. Somehow that hurt. Even after he had taught her a funny way to remember something from his world, she still couldn’t fit in. “Yeah. I meant fruit punch.” She looked down, feeling tears stinging her eyes.

“Rukia, listen.” In what she thought was an uncharacteristically affectionate move from him, he took her hands in his, and asked, “What’s your favourite move with Shirayaku?”

“With Shirayaki? What’s that got to do with anything?” Rukia protested. “Just answer the question, baka.”

Rukia thought for a moment. “Probably the first dance: Tsukishiro.” “Why?” Ichigo pressed.

“Why?” Rukia had never thought of that before. “It just feels right. Like breathing. As if I was born to do it.” “Ah - so the person who was born to dance is upset that she can’t dance?” Ichigo teased.

Realizing she’d been played, Rukia hit him on the chest. “You know that’s not I mean.” “Of course I know that’s not you mean! My point is you can dance. Beautifully too. Isn’t your zanpaktou called the most beautiful in Soul Society?” He took her hands and wrapped it around his neck, and then took his own and put it on her waist. “And this sort of dancing that you say you can’t do? This is easy to learn.”

Ichigo laughed. His carefree laugh that she loved so much.

“Here, Rukia - move your feet a little. There you go. One, two, three -” he swirled around with her with an easy grace. “See that’s not so hard, right?”

Rukia had to smile. “Fine, fine… I’ll let you win this time. This dance is not so hard.”

Ichigo laughed again. “You know all this high school dancing is really just an excuse to be close to the person you fancy.” He pulled her closer, still swaying to the distant sound of the music from the party inside.

“Ichiiigo, what are you doing?! You’re too close. Too close!” muttered a red face Rukia.

Grinning, Ichigo replied, “Thought you wanted to learn how to be a part of this world, chibi. I’m just showing you what high school kids do.” He swirled her out, and pulled her close again, feeling like he had the world in his hand.

“Ne Rukia, you want to know a secret?”

“Hm,” Rukia said distractedly, concentrating more on her footwork than on Ichigo, trying not to trip.

“You know how you said you don’t belong in this world?”

Rukia stopped and looked at Ichigo, her heart thundering in her ears. Please don’t say it, she begged silently. She knew she didn’t fit. But today of all days, she didn’t think her heart could take it if Ichigo confirmed it.

“What’s with that look, baka?” Ichigo pulled her even closer. “You’re so dense sometimes, you know! You don’t have to belong in this world, chibi.”

Lifting her face, he looked straight into those beautiful violet eyes and whispered, “You are my world, Rukia.”

...

Ishida watched his two friends dancing in the moonlight.

“Think he’s ready to tell her how he feels?” Chad stepped in beside his friend.

Ishida smiled. “Chad, I think he’s been ready since the day he stormed across two worlds to save her. Scratch that, I think he’s loved Rukia from the very first day she came into his life.”

Chad grinned. “Sounds like Ichigo, alright.”

A loud gasp made them both turn around.

“That Ichigo - when did he become so comfortable flirting with Rukia chan?” Keigo wailed.

Ishida and Chad both laughed. Chad patted Keigo’s back and said, “Let’s get you a drink, buddy. I think the Rukia ship sailed away from you a long time ago. But you know there are always other girls out there.”

...

Hope you liked it!

[darkspine10]

Dipcifica - Top & Tail

Top & Tail (4129 words) by darkspine10

Chapters: 1/2 Fandom: Gravity Falls Rating: General (but full version is Explicit) Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Dipper Pines/Pacifica Northwest Additional Tags: College AU, Awkward Sexual Situations, Banter Summary:  Dipper and Pacifica are forced into a tight situation on a college trip. Sharing a narrow single bed, sparks will fly, and both of them will try to overcome the other.

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For an upcoming extended version, featuring NSFW scenes, see the AO3 version of the fic :)

*

"This cannot be allowed. There must be some mistake."

 Dipper rolled his eyes again. That must be about the twentieth time she’d said it. Pacifica was now pacing back and forth, getting more and more wound up.

 “I mean, how does this happen? The college booked the trip months ago!”

 “I guess there was just a mix-up or something.” He shrugged, knowing it would do little to calm her down. That wasn’t Pacifica’s way of doing things. She’d complain all evening if she thought it would fix a bad outcome.

 “But it’s outrageous! Making us all share rooms, that’s one thing, but this…” She stared unbelievingly at the narrow bed in the middle of the cold hotel room. “It’s barely big enough for one of us! And they expect us to share?! I did not sign up for co-ed roommates.”

 “No, you signed up for skiing and sightseeing, am I right?” He stretched out on the bed, tired from the lengthy flight to Helsinki and wanting nothing more than to end this debate and go to sleep. “If it’s too much trouble you could always sleep on the floor.”

 “Yeah right,” Pacifica shot back, tapping her boot on the solid wood. She pressed down on the mattress, testing the softness. It was decent enough, she supposed, but not nearly big enough to fit the two of them. Not like she was planning on actually going through with that. “Maybe I can go switch rooms or something.”

 Dipper sat up in the bed and faced her. “No offence, Pacifica, but don’t think you’ll get many volunteers.”

 Since leaving for college the rich girl had made few friends. Away from home her family’s influence had no effect, so her cold and domineering nature ended up isolating her from most circles. Dipper was actually one of the few people she cared to hang around with, simply because he was someone familiar. And the generally socially inept Dipper hadn’t complained about having someone talk too, since he too was a self-admitted loner. Pacifica was intelligent, he had to admit, and though they often sparred, they tolerated each other well enough. It was at least brighter company than spending all his time alone or visiting his sister.

 “We sat together on the plane,” he added, trying to explain himself. “I think the professors just assumed we were fine going in the same room.”

 Pacifica, in the process of taking off her expensive high-heeled fur boots, pointed a bare foot daintily at the bed. “Well I am not fine sharing that.”

 “Yeah, I remember you have problems with ‘Shar-ring’,” Dipper enunciated teasingly. He didn’t see what the whole issue was anyway. Shrugging again, he lightly pushed her foot away with one finger, not failing to notice the pink nail polish and recent pedicure. "We can just top and tail. I used to do it with Mabel on trips all the time."

 "Yeah but you're siblings. And weirdly close ones too." She eyed the bed contemptuously, as if she could intimidate into suddenly sprouting a second copy of itself. Exhaling deeply, she finally threw up her arms in defeat. “Fine. Whatever. Now help my unpack the rest of my stuff.”

 “I’m not one of your servants, Northwest. Lug your own case in.”

 “Ugh, you’re trying my patience, Pines.” Dipper didn’t budge, smirking at the fact that she already knew he wasn’t going to move a muscle to help her. She ducked back out into the hallway, then returned dragging a cumbersome, bright pink suitcase on its rollers.

 When she’d originally arrived at the college in the early hours of the morning, where they were waiting for the coach to take them to the airport, she’d astonishingly had four more cases of varying sizes. He’d delighted in watching her agonise over which stuff to leave behind when she found out about the limited cargo space on the flight. It made his single small backpack fell downright spartan in comparison.

 Pacifica finished shifting the case into their room. Her attitude was still sour, as evidence by how she was staring down her nose at him, incensed that she’d had to put in physical effort for once.

 “What do you even keep in that thing?” Dipper asked, with a mixture of highlighting her absurdity and genuine curiosity.

 “I have standards, Pines, you wouldn’t understand. Just cause the only thing you ever bring with you is that dumb journal of yours. And that.” She pointed to his chest, where a bulky polaroid camera hung down from around his neck.

 “What about my camera? My course is all about that after all, you should expect me to actually like photography. I know your concerns are above those of us poor ordinary people but have some common sense.”

 She sidled over to him and examined the camera closely. It was clear she wasn’t impressed, and let it hang back limply. “I think you spend too much time taking snapshots or writing in that book. You need to live in the moment more.”

 “Unlike you?”

 “Yes, unlike me,” she replied indignantly. “Architecture is a serious profession, not a distraction like whatever you get up to”

 “Bet you just use it as an excuse to waste time doodling though.” He shook his head. “Anyway, back to the point, I like to travel light. Less junk to weigh me down. Not like I need much, only the bare essentials.”

 “Which I notice doesn’t include any bathroom products.” She wrinkled her nose at him. “Ever heard of personal hygiene?”

 “I don’t like wasting time in the shower, ok? I let the natural cleansing properties of water do the job.”

 Pacifica laughed uproariously at him, and even Dipper had to agree he was reaching somewhat to justify his laziness. “Oh, that’s a good one Pines. You’re borrowing some of my stuff tonight, that’s a requirement.” She unzipped a section of her case and offered it to him. “Take your pick.”

 Bending over to look inside, he saw a selection of dozens of interchangeable bottles. Hair gels, shampoo and conditioner for her long, blonde hair, body wash, she had it all and Dipper couldn’t tell which of any of them he’d need. To avoid looking like a complete fool in front of Pacifica, he just grabbed the first one at random and hoped it would suffice.

 He turned the bottle over in his hand, deciding that since she’d been uncharacteristically generous he should show some courtesy. "I suppose I should go wash. I did kind kinda sweaty on the flight. Especially since it looks like we definitely will be-"

 "Don't say it!"

 "-sleeping together," he finished obliviously.

 Pacifica rubbed her eyelids and tried to avoid her roommate’s gaze. "Ugh, don't say it like that. You make it sound like we’ll be... getting up to stuff"

 "Now you've lost me." He ignored Pacifica and pulled out his phone. Maybe his sister could translate the fancy French written on the bottle of shampoo and tell him what it was. As he was making his way to the en-suite though, he had the realisation of what exactly Pacifica had meant. “Oh, wait a minute! ‘Getting up to stuff’, you mean…“

 “Please shut up.”

 Dipper gave a short, sharp laugh. “You totally meant succumbing to my masculine charms."

 “Puh-lease, Pines. You’re about as manly as an actual block of wood. Like I'd ever stoop to your level."

 "Oh, I wouldn't deign to inconvenience you, Princess." He gave a mock bow, theatrically bending over and unfurling a hand to offer to Pacifica.

 “Don’t call me that!” She slapped the hand away. “This isn’t a joke; I have a reputation to uphold.”

 “And what? If people hear that a Northwest dared to even spend time in the company of a commoner? Shocker.”

 “You are such a dork.” Unfazed by his act, she shook her head and tried to finish her unpacking. “Please let’s just try to act like mature adults. We’ll get through tonight, then tomorrow, then whatever comes next. With a minimum of fuss.”

 “Hey Pacifica?” As she turned her head, she saw him in the doorway of the bathroom, camera raised and aimed right at her face. “Smile and say cheese!” The priceless look of shock and outrage he captured in her eyes made the photo a sure-fire keepsake for his collection. Getting through the rest of the night was certainly going to be an interesting ordeal.

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

 Unable to sleep, Dipper tossed over in the bed once again, facing towards Pacifica. Somehow she’d fallen asleep in mere minutes. But for him, the cold air and tight space made it hard for him to relax and drift off. Then there was the problem of his companion.

 As he settled again in position, he tried to minimise his movements. Every time he made the slightest adjustment to the sheets, the rustling sound that resulted was like an atomic bomb going off. He could barely hear Pacifica’s breaths, they were so shallow, but any noise felt like it would wake her up.

 He tried to distract himself, to tell his brain that he was being irrational and to go to sleep. Stop overreacting, she isn’t going to suddenly wake up now, he should just accept the situation and not worry. That only made him focus more on the minute sounds of Pacifica’s breathing.

 He was hyper-aware of anything that might disturb her. Having to endure a rant about disturbing her beauty sleep was the last thing he needed. They had to be up early tomorrow to go with the group on a daytrip to some island in the bay, staying up all night fretting was only going to make him tired and irritable.

 Then he settled on something in the corner of his eye. Poking out of the end of the duvet, Pacifica’s feet were exposed to the air. He noticed her nail polish, and how sharp her toenails were. He had no idea why anyone would care enough to put that much effort into prettying up their feet. Would be a big waste of time in his mind.

 A wicked thought ran through his head. Not sure if it was a smart idea or if he was just too sleep deprived to think straight, he wriggled an arm free of the sheets. One thing he knew about Pacifica was that she was incredibly ticklish. The lightest feather touch could set her off laughing. He could reach out and do it right now.

 Maybe it would be satisfying to get some payback for all the teasing earlier? It might be worth it merely to see the look on her face; she did always have the funniest over-the-top reactions. He couldn’t deny the desire to give her the taste of her own medicine. See how she feels when she’s forced awake in the dead of night. After that at least he wouldn’t have to worry about making too much noise.

 Hovering over the sole of a foot, he prepared to apply the gentlest caress possible. His fingers brushed against her skin, then in an instant her entire body shook with a thunderous force. A burst of awkward laughter erupted from her lips as she jerked awake. Dipper chuckled to himself but regretted it moments later.

 Pacifica’s feet shot out, reacting to his tickles. Her lovingly pedicured toenails, sharpened to razors, rammed right into his eye sockets. Dipper cried out in pain and fell backwards out of the bed. “Holy shit! My eyes!”

 Pacifica, finally free of the uncontrollable spasms, flicked on the bedside lamp, and turned an accusing gaze at Dipper, sprawled out on the floor. “What the hell did you just do?!”

 A hand clutched to his face, he muttered, “Still getting over being jabbed by your talons, that’s all.”

 “My what?” She wriggled her toes, then angrily curled them up under the duvet. “You are such a jerk. What did you think would happen?”

 “Hey, at least I made you laugh.” He winked, but the joke went down like a steel balloon under her steely gaze.

 “Get back into bed, dummy. Some of normal people us are trying to sleep.”

 “No way, nuh-uh,” he protested loudly. Jumping to his feet, he pointed to the head of the bead. “I am not sleeping opposite those weapons anymore. I’d like to not go blind, thanks.”

 “Ugh, if you’re gonna be such a baby about it…” Pacifica’s head disappeared under the covers, then there was a noisy rummaging. Her head showed up again at the opposite end of the bed. “You really wanna do this Pines? Cause I can handle your immaturity up close.”

 Cautious, Dipper climbed back into bed, face to face with his upset roommate. He pulled the covers over so both their bodies were snugly pressed together under them.

 “Happy now?”

 “Sure, it’s just a little… tight.” They both blushed at the implication.

 Pacifica’s eyes darted away from his. “Now, go to sleep Pines. And don’t make me regret letting you back in the bed.” Her eyes closed again, preparing to resume whatever dream had been in progress before.

 “Nighty night… Princess,” Dipper couldn’t help but snigger.

 Pacifica let out an angry groan, but kept her eyes resolutely shut. She was trying to get back to sleep but her breathing was heavier than before. Dipper knew she wouldn’t easily fall asleep again while she was annoyed at him. He closed his own eyelids for a moment, but as before couldn’t find a way to peacefully rest.

 A shiver ran up Pacifica’s body. He thought at first he must have accidently skimmed against her, setting off her ticklishness again. But then her body shook again, and he realised it was simply cold. Despite the temperatures outside being so low, and the room providing little insulation, she was only wearing a thin pink sleep shirt and cotton shorts. Her bare legs felt frigid up against him.

 Her bare feet suddenly stood out as a glaring aberration. Realising that she must have left her warmer pyjamas in one of her other cases that she’d had to leave behind, he felt slightly guilty towards her.

 “Hey, psst, Pacifica.” He didn’t get a reply, so lightly tapped her side with a finger.

 “Shh.” She kept her eyes resolutely shut and pulled her pillow over her ears. “Go to sleep, Pines.”

 “I wanted to let you know, you can borrow some of my winter socks if you’re cold. I packed spares, it’s the least I could do for you.”

 “I’m not taking handouts from you, I’m fine as I am,” she said, despite clutching the covers tighter to herself. That was Pacifica’s way, she would rather freeze that concede any weakness.

 Dipper still felt bad about her situation, so tried to come up with another option. “We could huddle together? You know, like penguins, combine our body heat?”

 Pacifica begrudgingly opened her eyes. “Do you want me to smother your face with this pillow?”

 “I was only trying to help,” he muttered irritatedly.

 “Yeah, well don’t. I can look after myself. I’m not some helpless damsel. Now: Go. To. Sleep.”

 She was about to try yet again to close her eyes, but Dipper suddenly blurted out something. “Unless you’re still afraid of getting up to stuff with me?” There was a small red glow on his cheeks, but he had a determined smirk nonetheless. “Face it, you can’t stand the thought of me lying here next to you.”

 “Oh, now it’s personal.” She lined herself up, so she was staring eye to eye with Dipper. “First one to blink loses. We’ll see who chickens out first. That’ll show you which of us is intimidated by the other.”

 “You’re on.” Intending to take her on and win, Dipper adjusted himself so he was comfortable, then stared deep into her sapphire eyes. She did the same, turning her piercing gaze upon his hazel eyes. Locked in opposition, they steeled themselves to outlast the other.

 They’d often played this kind of game before, competing in minor ways to annoy each other. Seeing who could answer the most study questions in a set time or dinging the other if they were ever late to classes. Pacifica’s competitive streak was a mile-wide, drilled into her by her parents’ mandate to always overachieve, while Dipper didn’t like to tolerate her smug superiority complex. That meant that on average the pair usually ended up drawing in their small victories.

 Dipper realised he’d been staring at her eyes for some time now. Neither of them had budged yet. Though his eyes stayed wide open, they drifted somewhat from Pacifica’s as he started to waver slightly. As his gaze fell upon the copious amounts of dark purple eyeshadow she wore, his thoughts started to drift too.

 Who wears makeup to bed? Like her neatly kept toes, what was the point if nobody would see her this way? Her was hair though, that was one aspect of her appearance she seemed to have lost control off, messily sprawled out. It was a rare glimpse at seeing her in a halfway dishevelled state.

 A whiff of her shampoo floated past him, carrying the strong, sweet scent of champagne and roses. Hyper-awareness of his surroundings returned, but this time it was more about Pacifica than his own movements. They were so close together; they could even feel each other's breaths intermingling in the small space between them.

 Wheels turned slowly in Mason’s mind. Perhaps it was the tiredness from the flight and being kept up all night, but he felt like he was running in slow motion. But as he stared and stared at Pacifica’s face he became more and more captivated by what he saw.

 This was ridiculous. It was Pacifica Northwest for crying out loud. The most self-centred person he’d ever met. A pampered sorority brat who constantly argued with him. Now though, in the dim light, an odd sensation rose in his chest. A sensation of desire. He had the urge to lean forwards, to bridge the minute gap between them…

 Maybe he was drunk off her hair or something like that. That could be the only explanation for why he was suddenly overwhelming drawn to the girl lying opposite.

 “What’s the matter Pines? Losing your nerve?”

 Shit. It was like she’d read his mind, easily figuring out his mood had changed. He couldn’t hide the crimson blush flooding across his cheeks or the thin layer of sweat starting to form. She raised a single eyebrow to express her insight, making him crumble like tissue paper.

 “I- uh- that is to say-“ He gulped, hoping she’d think he’d given up and would declare herself the winner of the little contest. Anything to get her out of his head. Deep breaths, Dipper, he forced himself to remember. “I was just distracted by something, ok?”

 “Oh.” Instead of the expected reaction, she too blushed now, though as with all things kept a better level of composure. Actually I was kind of distracted too.” This caught him off guard. What about him could she possibly be interested in? Then he saw her gaze wander upwards and he understood.

 “This?” He lifted his hair out of his forehead, slowly exposing his unique birthmark. The strange arrangement of spots that perfectly formed the constellation of Big Dipper. He sighed and rolled his eyes. “What, you think it’s weird or funny? Go ahead, make some petty remark, I can take it.”

 Pacifica frowned, thought not in an angry way. More like he was interpreting her wrong. “I’ve never really got a good look up close at it before, that’s all. May I?” She reached forward to touch his forehead, hesitating when he recoiled slightly. He didn’t have far to go in the cramped bed though, not if he didn’t want to fall out again.

 Relenting, he held up his hands. “I guess you can have a quick look. Why though? It’s just a rare thing I have, nothing special.”

 “I don’t think that.” Her hand delicately moved his hair aside. For second she halted, then he allowed her to continue and she stroked her fingers across the birthmark. Her touch was electric, sending chills down his body. No-one had ever gotten close enough to actually feel the birthmark. “It gave you your nickname,” Pacifica added, “that’s gotta count for something. ”

 Normally he hated when people noticed or talked about his birthmark. They would either react in horror or have a sort of morbid curiosity. Either way it marked him as a freak. Never before had anyone been genuinely curious and sensitive about in this way.

 It surprised him coming from Pacifica of all people. Sensitivity wasn’t her usual style. Maybe she knew something about intimacy and vulnerability though. In her daily life she put up a façade to most of the world, a mask that rarely slipped. Yet he knew underneath there were things she didn’t like sharing. Like keeping her videogaming habit to herself or getting embarrassed if people heard her singing. Safeguards to prevent her parents’ from discovering anything they deemed ‘improper’, most likely.

 He wondered why this was happening. Why she was acting more caring towards him, and why he didn’t mind having her enter his most sacrosanct personal space. Pacifica wasn’t the sort of the person who was easy to like. She was snooty and elitist and cold at times.

 She had flaws in her personality that people steered away from. Her biting wit, which he often clashed with, her competitive drive. To him those aspects didn’t seem so bad right now. They just showed that she was a quick thinker, somebody confident in her abilities and unwilling to back down. Qualities he admired.

 If she was willing to treat with him with such respect regarding the concealed oddity on his forehead, perhaps he was right to trust her. She'd consented to this sleeping arrangement after all. Despite all the pretentions, under the rough exterior she did consider him an honest friend.

 And what an exterior it was. The upside to her over-indulgences in beauty regimes meant that she had a constant dazzling appearance that often turned heads. The luscious blonde hair, her sultry lips, those sparkling eyes. Though she was tired and unprepared, even now he found her looks so enticing.

 Under the covers, his hand traced the smooth curves of her hips. As with her exploration of his birthmark, she didn’t protest at all. In fact, her hand descended from his birthmark to cup his cheek. The soft smoothness of her skin stood out, frozen as it was.

 The intensity of their close breaths was heightened like never before, as Dipper’s rate stepped up noticeably. His heart was beating faster and he felt nearer to Pacifica now. He fixed his gaze back in her eyes, then asked the obvious question. “What exactly is happening here?”

 A warm smile shone back at him. “I think, maybe… we both lost the staring competition.” Pacifica’s other hand grabbed at his chocolate locks, pulling him across the last, tiny gap separating them. Their heavy breathing was finally interrupted when he pressed his lips forcefully to hers. She seemed surprised by his boldness, but then leant into it, gripping his head close.

 Dipper’s pushed his way further into her mouth, and their two tongues wrestled and danced around each other. At last he came up for air, gasping for only a second before Pacifica leapt at him again. She rolled on top of him, freeing up space in the bed and tightening their budding connection. Dipper’s hands made their way to her hips, supporting her above him.

 Though he deeply desired to continue just as they were, kissing passionately, he had an impulsive idea. “Hold on Paz, just a second.” He laid her back down on her side, then groped in the darkness on his bedside table. She looked at him, concerned why he wanted to stop, then understood when held his polaroid camera aloft. “Smile for me, please?”

 He wanted to capture this moment, this tentative blossoming between them, to keep as a permanent reminder. Pacifica understood that keenly, so snuggled up beside him in view of the lens. A quick flash, and it was done, recorded on celluloid forever.”

 As soon as the flash faded, Pacifica snatched the camera away from him and put it away. “Now, enough of that. Where were we?”

 Side by side, the two previously reluctant roommates returned to exploring their new relationship. It was the start of something, a potential beginning that neither knew where it could lead. With their bodies squeezed up against one another, their hearts aflame, the cold atmosphere of the room would no longer be a problem for either of them.

[fluffy-marshmallow-heart]

Drake's Diary ch.20- Lights, Camera, Smile

The Royal Romance from Drake's POV

Drake x MC (Emma)

Words: 4185

Fashion shows and reunions...whose lives will be altered in Paris?

Hana, Maxwell and Drake knock on Emma’s door and are greeted by Chance, who barks happily at them.

“Morning, sleepyhead!” Hana called out.

Drake looked her over, noticing she looked slightly worse for wear. “Last night must have been rough. You slept all the way from Italy to Paris. How are you feeling?” He asked, eyes full of concern.

Emma gazed at him. “I’ve been better…”

“That’s because you partied all night loooooong!” Maxwell cried. Drake rolled his eyes. Not everyone likes partying as much as you do.

Emma rose an eyebrow. “That, and I found out that the noble lady who set me up was Penelope.”

“What?” Hana gasped

Drake’s jaw dropped. “Penelope? Penelope? ‘I can’t stop talking about my poodles’ Penelope?”

No freaking way.

Maxwell narrowed his eyes. “I always knew she was a few dogs short of a pack.”

  “To be honest…I feel so betrayed by that backstabber! I thought Penelope and I were friends. I don’t understand how she could look me in the eye and act like everything was fine between us, and then…”

“Don’t worry, Emma.” Maxwell broke in. “We’ll set things right. No one messes with House Beaumont!”

Hana shook her head. “To think, I even tried to help her…”

Emma sighed. “Anyway, we need to strategize. I didn’t confront her last night, but I have to talk to her. I need answers.”

“Please be careful, Emma. If she’s able to fool us for so long, who knows what else she’s capable of?” Hana pointed out.

Maxwell agreed. “She’s downright diabolical. I bet she doesn’t even have poodles.”

“Yeah. Be careful. We’ve got the upper hand right now because she doesn’t know that you suspect her.” Drake warned. Whatever you decide, I’m with you.

“That’s right. If we’re able to get close to her, we may be able to get some answers…” Hana suggested.

“Good idea.” Drake glanced over at her.

“The ultimate game of cat and mouse. Cat and poodle? Poodle and lion!”

“This lion is ready to pounce.” Emma glared.

There’s my girl.

“I’ll be there if you need help.” Hana told her. “I know it won’t be easy to be nice to her after all she’s put you through…Oh, I have an idea! Penelope loves dogs, right?”

Did she seriously just ask that? Oh Hana, Hana

“Oh, yeah! Maybe you can butter her up with a little corgi time!” Maxwell said excitedly.

Chance barks happily, and Maxwell reaches down to scratch his ears. “Who’s the very best little detective? Is it you?”

Chance barks again. “It sure is! You’re the best detective in the world!”

Chance starts jumping around excitedly, barking his head off.

Drake rolled his eyes again and turned back to Emma. “Be careful, Rose. Think you’ll be able to get her alone?”

“That might be harder than it sounds. We’re going to a charity fashion show today, so there’ll be tons of people.” Hana said.

Maxwell snapped his fingers. “Speaking of which, we should get going. We’re supposed to meet Justin at the limo in a few minutes.

Drake looked back at Emma. “Mind if I catch a ride with you guys?”

“Plenty of room in the limo!” Maxwell told him.

That’s great, but I wasn’t asking you…I’m still coming though.

A few minutes later, Emma, Drake, and Maxwell enter the limo to find that Justin is already inside.

“Morning, future queen! Ready for an exciting day of fashion and philanthropy?” He asked.

“Fashlanthropy?”

“Ugh, Maxwell. You know I can never unhear that, right?” Drake groaned.

Maxwell just shrugged. “Hey, they can’t all be winners!”

Emma smiled at Justin. “Am I ready? You bet I am! Looking at beautiful people wearing beautiful clothing, while raising money for…What are we raising money for?”

“Disaster relief is the cause du jour.” Justin announced proudly.

Emma tilted her head to the side. “What disaster?”

“There was a major earthquake on the Cordonian coast recently. It caused a tsunami and left hundreds displaced.”

“Oh, that’s so sad…”

Justin nodded. “Indeed. It hasn’t received much news coverage, but tonight should change that. The government has already deployed disaster relief, but a well-covered charity event will raise even more funds to help the affected.”

“Well, I’ll be happy to support the cause.” Emma looked down at Chance as he barked at her.

Maxwell chuckled. “Sounds like Chance is, too!”

“I certainly hope so, because you’ll want to show that little guy off like a prized pig at a country fair today. He’s the best decision you’ve made. Except me, of course.”

Wow, this guy certainly is full of himself. What a moron. A smart moron, but still a moron.

Justin continued. “Just remember, if the press asks you any sensationalist questions, refocus on the humanitarian efforts of the event. Don’t worry if you run into any questions you’re not prepared to answer. I’ll be in your head again today.”

“The earpiece?” Emma asked.

Maxwell clapped his hands together. “I bet Justin’s fun to have inside your head!”

Justin grinned haughtily. “I like to think so.”

Drake grimaced. “This just got awkward.”

Ignoring him, Justin handed the small piece of equipment back to Emma. “Just put the earpiece in when you need me, Emma.”

The limo rolls to a stop. “Looks like we’ve arrived.”

“We should probably go find Liam when we get inside.” Drake told everyone.

“Yeah, we’ll catch up with you later, Emma.” Maxwell stepped out of the vehicle.

Wait…she’s not coming with us? Damn it. The fashion show venue was abuzz with activity. Drake and Maxwell split off, while Emma and Hana are shepherded backstage.

Drake sat uncomfortably in a chair by Maxwell and Liam, as the models were parading around the catwalk, wearing one outrageous outfit after another. When the next article of clothing was all in fishnet, Drake decided he’d had enough. He leaned in towards Liam. “Hey, I’m going to head out.”

Liam chuckled. “Not quite your scene, is it?”

Drake just shook his head and went back to the train. Those fishnets body suits…he didn’t want to see them on anyone. That just isn’t a good look. Or…do I want to see just one person in particular in it? Hmmm. As those thoughts filled his head, he practically ran back to his sleeping car to take care of the hardness that was developing in his pants.

The following morning, Drake had an idea. After stroking himself into oblivion with visions of Emma wearing fishnets, a thought occurred to him. He was thinking about their first kiss, for about the billionth time, when it hit him. The envelope of cash in the Beaumont study had a Parisian address on it.

I need to find Rose. I bet she’ll come with me to find it.

Rushing out of his car, he bumped right into her.

He grinned. “Hey! There you are. I’ve been looking all over for you.”

Emma winked. “And now you’ve found me! I missed you at the end of the fashion show yesterday. Were the fishnet jumpsuits too much?”

Drake stared at her in surprise. No, there’s no way she knows I was getting off to that…is there? Ah, fuck

He found himself blushing. “I don’t ever need to see that much of a person.”

Except you. You were very hot in it.

Emma’s smile faltered. “I need to tell you something…Penelope confessed everything at the fashion show. She was working with Bastien.”

“Bastien?! Our Bastien?”

She bit her bottom lip nervously. “Yeah…I know you and Bastien are close.”

Drake runs his fingers through his hair. “Bastien, of all people. Hell.” How could he do this? This is so unlike him. He wouldn’t deliberately set her up, no way, how could he betray me like that? Betray Liam like that?

“Have you seen him around? We need to talk…”

Drake shook his head. “No, he’s preparing security for Liam’s bachelor party. He’ll be there tomorrow night.”

She nodded slowly. “I guess that means I’m crashing.”

Drake looked at her, pleading in his eyes. “Can I be there when you talk to him? I need to know why.”

“Of course.”

“Thanks, Rose.” He lets out a sigh. “Not much to do until then. But…there’s another mystery I wanted to talk to you about.”

“What’s up?”

“Do you remember when we found that envelope of cash in the Beaumont study?”

“Of course…” She trailed off a moment. “Oh! The address on it was in Paris!”

“Not too far from here, in fact.” Drake told her.

“Are you thinking that we should go to that address?”

“At the very least, it might give us another clue about what’s going on. And right now, it seems like we can use all the answers we can get.”

“Let’s go. But you should bring something nice to wear.”

I what?  “You’re just trying to get me into a suit, aren’t you?”

She let out a laugh. “As much as I enjoy forcing you into formal wear, you never know when you’ll need to look nice to blend in.”

He groaned. “Fine, fine, I’ll bring one with me. Let’s go.” Can’t believe I have to walk around with a garment bag, god this is so embarrassing. Wait, why didn’t I put up a fight about it? Damn it!

A short drive later, they arrive at the address. “It looks like an ordinary apartment.” Emma said, looking around the building.

Drake agreed. “So far. Here we go.” He knocks on the door, and someone opens it into a small apartment…

“Drake!”

“Wha..Savannah!” Drake felt as though the world stopped spinning.

What the…how is…

Then suddenly Maxwell appeared. “Who’s at the…Whoa, Drake and Emma! Uh…hi…”

Drake curled his hands into fists. “Maxwell?”

“Eep!” Maxwell let out a small shriek.

Savannah looked to be in shock.  “Drake, I…” From inside the apartment there comes a tiny cry.

No. No, that can’t be.  “Is that…”

“Mama’s coming, Bartie!” Savannah called. She hurried away from the door.

Drake gasped. “Mama…?”

Emma turned to him, worry evident in her eyes. “Savannah’s got a baby?! Drake…We need to stay calm.”

Drake looked at her incredulously. “Calm? At a time like this?! Calm is the last thing I’m feeling right now!”

She can’t possibly expect me to remain calm! Honestly! Doesn’t she know me at all??

She glared at him. “You need to get calm, then! For Savannah’s sake!”

He shook his head furiously. “I shouldn’t even be here. Savannah didn’t want me here. She didn’t want me involved in her new life. I should go. I’ll only upset her if I’m here.”

“Drake, you don’t know for sure that’s true.”

Oh yes, I do.  “If she wanted me around, she would’ve called. Written. Anything. Let’s go.” He retreats toward the hallway, but Emma grabs his arm.

“You just found her after all this time. We can’t leave now. We need to be here for her. Just stay a minute to talk to her. If she really wants us gone, we’ll go.”

Drake rests his hand against the doorframe and sighs. He glares at Maxwell, who starts talking nervously.

“Uh, can I get anyone some water or anything? No? Tea?”

“Are you going to talk or what?” Emma said angrily.

Drake looked at her in surprise. Why does she seem just as angry as I am right now?

“I…better go get that tea! You said you wanted tea?”

“No one wants tea.” Drake hissed.

“There’s the kettle…”

“I didn’t hear anything.”

Maxwell runs off and Emma turns back to Drake. “Wait a second. The baby’s name is Bartie. I bet the baby is named after Bertrand and Maxwell’s father.”

Drake thought a moment. “Barthelemy Beaumont. You’re right.”

God, she’s a genius.

Emma nodded. “I knew I’d heard them mention his name before! If the baby is named after their father, then either Maxwell or Bertrand’s got to be the father…right?”

“Right.”

“I bet the father is Bertrand. I just don’t think Maxwell would be the type to let her go off on her own. And Bertrand is always so mysterious, like he’s just full of secrets.”

I know that look. She’s plotting.

“Well…”

“Shh…they’re coming back.”

Drake looked back up to see Savannah and Maxwell approaching with Bartie. “Savannah…before you say anything, if you want me to go, I’ll go. I don’t want to force anything you’re not ready for.”

“…That’s not…oh, Drake.” Tears fill Savannah’s eyes. She hands Bartie to Maxwell, and throws herself at her brother, hugging him tightly.

“Oh!” Drake holds her close for a minute., completely caught off guard by the affection.

“I’m so sorry I shut you out. I just didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t think you’d understand. I didn’t want to ruin things for you at court.”

Drake gaped at her. “For me? Savannah, don’t you know that your happiness means so much more to me?”

She sighed. “I know. I guess I always knew. I just wasn’t ready to reach out. But now that you’re here…I’m so glad to see you I could cry. Again.”

*Goo!* Bartie breaks in

Maxwell smiled down at him. “Don’t worry little guy. No one forgot about you.”

Savannah met Drake’s eyes hopefully. “Drake are you ready to meet your nephew?”

Drake couldn’t stop himself from glancing over at Emma first, before turning back and nodding to Savannah “Uh…yes?” Savannah places Bartie in his arms, and he cooed up at Drake, who was suddenly very nervous. “I…am I doing this right?” He noticed the baby was no longer cooing but looking at him strangely. He glanced at Emma again.

She gave him a soft smile. “Drake…here, let me help. This hand should go here…and then…” She positions Drake’s arms so he’s securely holding Bartie, who immediately gives Drake the cutest smile he’s ever seen in his life, and Drake couldn’t help but adore him already.

For a moment, he forgot about talking to Savannah. When he heard her say “Aw” he looked back up at her.  “Just because you’ve got me holding this little bundle, don’t think that you’re going to avoid any questions.”

Savannah shook her head. “No. I’m ready to talk to you. Go ahead.”

“Well, let’s start with…what happened? When you left, I mean.”

“It was a very difficult time for me…At one of the Beaumont’s house parties Bertrand and I ended up alone in the study. I’d always thought the world of him, but I didn’t think he’d ever look twice at me. But that night, we talked for hours…and then…Well, I’ll spare you the details.”

“Thank god.” Drake breathed out.

She continued “But suffice to say, this little miracle was the result. I didn’t even realize I was pregnant until a month later. I went to tell Bertrand, but before I could even get a word in, he started giving me a big speech about how we couldn’t be together.”

Drake furrowed his eyebrows. “Are you saying…?”

“Bertrand doesn’t even know about Bartie. I tried to play it cool and tell him that I was fine…But as I left the Beaumont House, I couldn’t help crying….”

“And that’s where I come in…I saw Savannah in tears and got the whole story out of her.” Maxwell chimed in.

Emma looked between the two of them. “Wait a second…Maxwell, have you been sending Savannah money?”

Oh my god, she’s right. That explains everything.

Maxwell looked sheepish. “Oh, you figured it out, huh? Yeah, I try to help out here and there…”

Savannah chuckled. “Maxwell’s being modest. He’s been amazing. This apartment, all our food and clothes…He’s sent us money for everything, so I wouldn’t have to get a job.”

“Well, little Bartie needs his mama. And I knew things would be hard enough without Bertrand in the picture…”

“Savannah, why don’t you want Bertrand to know?” Drake asked, ignoring Maxwell

“Psh, Drake. Can you imagine anything more pathetic? I don’t want Bertrand to feel like he’s obligated. It was my choice to become a single mother. I don’t want to drag him into this now or make him feel pressured to be with me because of Bartie. He made his feelings quite clear on the matter, and I don’t want him thinking that I had Bartie to get him to change his mind. I might not have Bertrand, but at least I have my pride.”

“Savannah, I have to ask…Why did you accept money from Maxwell? If you didn’t want Bertrand to find out?”

Damn, Rose has so many good questions. I’m so glad I brought her.

“I didn’t want to, at first…but Maxwell can be very insistent.”

“Most people use the term ‘annoying.’” Maxwell stated.

You got that right.

“I could never say that about you! When I didn’t accept his first payment, he sent gifts instead. A crib, prenatal vitamins, ridiculously frilly baby clothes…”

“It was the least I could do…He’s a Beaumont, after all…”

This is…just unreal. I can’t believe this is happening. He knew this whole time.

“Anyway, I’m very glad to see you, Drake. I was dreading this, but…you’re taking it a lot better than I thought you would.” Savannah told him, breaking him from his thoughts.

Drake rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. “Honestly? I missed you so much, I just want to be here for you however I can. And for little Bartie, too.”

“Aw…Drake.” Savannah gives him a big hug, then pulling away she turns to Emma. “And you, Emma, Maxwell’s told me all about you.”

“Really?” She asked, clearly surprised.

“Of course! Maxwell keeps me up to date on all of the courtly gossip.”

The clock on the wall starts chiming and Drake glances at it. “We should be getting back before Lady Emma is missed.”

Why the hell did I just call her Lady Emma? God, I’m so messed up from this.

Savannah nodded. “Yes, it wouldn’t do for Bertrand to get too curious and discover where you’ve been. But thank you all for coming. I’ll treasure this memory.”

“You need a family portrait to remember it!” Maxwell exclaimed

“I don’t think that’s necessary.” Drake snapped at him

“Aw, it’ll be nice! A token to remember this by.” Emma placed her hand on Drake’s arm again, and his eyes fluttered closed for just a moment, before Savannah started speaking.

“I would like that. Something to show Bartie what Uncle Drake looks like, so he doesn’t forget you!”

Drake looked at Emma once again, who was still holding his arm. “Oh, fine.”

A slow smirk started to spread across her features. “If only you had something nice to wear…”

Oh, no.

He frowned. “You’re talking about my suit. You want me to put it on, don’t you?”

“I absolutely do.” She told him, full on grinning now.

The things I do for her.

“What a nice idea. I’ll get dressed up too.” Drake and Savannah change, then reconvene in the living room with Bartie.

Maxwell pulls out his phone and the two of them step back. “Hmm, it’s a little too dark in here. Let’s go out on the balcony so I can get more natural light!”

“Isn’t this fine?” Drake mumbled.

“No, and I’m the photographer here, so do as I say.”

“But not as you do.”

Savannah laughed at that. “You haven’t changed at all, Drake. Come on.” Drake and Savannah stand outside on the balcony with Bartie. Maxwell snaps the picture.

“You can send it to my printer!” Savannah disappears for a few minutes before coming back to the group. “Here Drake.” She handed him a picture

Drake looked at it…and started beaming. “Oh, this is…”

Rose will love this.

“Here, Emma, take a look.” He pulled her back towards him.

She looked at the picture, then looked back up, straight into Drake’s eyes. “Drake…I always knew you were a total marshmallow at heart.” She said softly, never breaking their gaze.

He just shrugged. “When it comes to family…”

“Even Drake can’t keep up the grumpy act.” Savannah informed.

Family…Emma��What’s next? What is she turning me into? I’m not mushy. Why am I being mushy?

He goes to hand the photo back, but Savannah shakes her head. “I want you to take a copy, too. That one’s for you.”

“R-Really?”

She nodded quickly. “So you can think of us and remember this happy day.”

Remember? As in…not happening again…?

“I hope I’ll get to see you more from now on too.” He tested nervously.

“I…I think I’d like that. I love you, big brother.”

Drake broke out into another huge grin. “Love you too, sis. And you, little guy.” He gives Savannah a huge hug and kisses Bartie on the forehead.”

“Get in here, both of you!” Savannah gives both Emma and Maxwell a big hug too.

“Savannah…I’m here for you anytime!” Emma told her happily.

“Thank you, Emma. That means a lot. I haven’t had many people in my life lately. But I think you’re someone I’d like to get to know better.”

Drake looked at Emma, who was smiling widely at his sister. The two women I truly love…together and happy. This is perfect…so perfect…except…

“Now we’d better get back before we’re missed.” I wish we didn’t have to. I wish I could stay in this moment.

“Good luck out there.” Savannah told them

“Thanks.”

“Give the little guy a kiss good night for me!” Maxwell called.

Okay, I could stay in this moment without Maxwell. Definitely without Maxwell.

“Always.” She replied.

Emma, Maxwell, and Drake head out the door and back to the limo. “That went really well, I think.” Maxwell broke the silence.

Drake gave him the death stare. “Don’t think you’re off the hook.”

“Huh?”

“You knew where Savannah was this whole time! You know how worried I’ve been about her! You could’ve said something…at least dropped a hint that she was okay!” Drake accused angrily.

“Yeah…you’re right. I just didn’t know what to do. I’m really, really, sorry Drake. I wanted to tell you so many times, but I just couldn’t. It wasn’t my secret to tell. We’re still friends, right?”

Drake continues his glare. Asshole.

Maxwell slunk back into his seat. “You think about that for a while, and we’ll come back to it.”

Emma sighed. “In the meantime, let’s head back to the train.”

When they arrive, the main room is deserted. Maxwell heads to his sleeping compartment and Drake walks Emma back to her suite. She walks inside. Drake stops and leans against the doorframe, sighing.

“Well, here you are.” I don’t want to leave.

“Yep. Here I am.”

Drake avoids her gaze, tapping his fingers on the edge of the door. “Hey Rose…Thanks for convincing me to do that.”

“Don’t mention it.” She shrugged.

He swallowed. “I…I want you to know…you’re a good friend, Rose.” I will never not want more with you. You’re the one for me, always. If only things were different. But since they’re not…I at least need this friendship. Drake smiles sadly at her, then turns to go. “Good night.”

“Drake…Don’t go. I want you.”

He froze, turning back towards her slowly. “Rose…”

Emma stepped towards him. “Are you telling me the feeling isn’t mutual?”

“Rose…you know damn well that it is.”

Stop asking. We’re not meant to be.

She bit her bottom lip and Drake’s gaze immediately fell to it. “So, this all comes down to will power, huh?”

She leans closer to him, so close that their lips are almost touching, but then she stops. He breathes in sharply. Don’t move, Walker. Don’t do it. You know this will only end badly.

“You’re a model of restraint, Drake.” She whispered.

But it’s killing me. Literally. I think I might die if I’m not closer to you. “Don’t tempt me too far, Rose. I’m only human.”

A second later, her lips were on his, closing the distance between them and kissing him deeply.

Yeeeesssss please kiss me forever

“Rose…” Drake pulls her close, spinning her so he pins her against the wall. He kisses her again and again, his hands running along her body, desperately craving her touch, craving all of her…before he pulls himself away with a groan.

“You’re all of my weaknesses, you know that?” He told her, breathing heavily.

“It’s one of my charms.” She smirked.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Now I really am leaving.”

“Goodnight.”

That’s it? Just like that? Hell no.

 He approached her again, cupping her face with his hands, kissing her slowly and savoring her flavor one last time. “See you tomorrow, temptress. Don’t forget, we’ve got a big night tomorrow.”

“You mean the bachelor party? I’m ready.”

“Good. I’m ready too, and I’ll be right there with you.” I’ll be here til it really is over. Until then…I’ll take these moments in between.

She gave him a half-hearted smile. “Thanks. Something tells me that if I’m going to confront Bastien and finally get some answers, I’ll need all the help I can get.”

Drake nodded sadly and left her room. He better have some good fucking answers, too.

   @blackwidow2721 @sleepwalkingelite @flowerpowell @annekebbphotography @carabeth @gardeningourmet @eileendannie @dancetothestoriesinyoursoul @alesana45 @thequeenofcronuts @agent-bossypants @zigortega4life

 @hrhdes @drakewalkerisreal @akrenich @feartheendlesssummer @moonlightgem7 @i-miss-trr @i-only-signed-up-for-fanfiction @crookedslimecreatorpasta

@notoriouscs

[lonnieontherun]

SPOILER Review for ‘Fantastic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindelwald’

I repeat, THIS is a spoiler review of the movie. Do not read beyond the cut if you have not seen the movie and don’t want to be spoiled!

*

I have started and re-started this review so many times now and each times it becomes so damn long. I am trying hard to make it shorter here. Edit: I failed big time. Whatever, here we go lmao

SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS!

- The cast is lovely. Initially not that fond of Depp being cast as Grindelwald (though not for the controversial reasons people wont stop bitching about) he has absolutely grown on me over the two years and it was worth it. He is sinister. He is calm and collected. Not over the top. He and his followers murder a couple in Paris to take over their home. Then they find they have a baby boy and... they murder him off screen too. Very chilling. 

- Queenie Goldstein. Not a character I connect with, but I don’t hate her at all. I just don’t know what to think. But Alison is wonderful and I personally love the dark twist her story takes. And she goes willingly with Grindelwald was a surprise to me. It broke my heart on Jacob’s behalf wow. That was rough.

- Newt Scamander. Despite obviously being my favorite and I completely adore him - I was still absolutely surprised how wonderful he is in this movie. He is just such a delight and Eddie is just gorgeous. Inside out. Can’t take my eyes off him. He’s funny, but not in a cracking jokes all the time way, but neither in a making a fool out of him for his awkwardness either? It was just such a spot on portrayal even superior to the first movie and he absolutely got the most laugh and love from the audience along with Jacob. This was absolutely what I needed the very most from a character I relate so much with.

- Jacob Kowalski. Again, there’s a reason why Dan Fogler points out his bromance with Newt in this movie. It’s the heart of it all. It’s funny, it’s warm and it entirely endearing. Jacob spends the movie almost like a guide for Newt on how to approach Tina and talk to her because Newt is just terrible at this. And it leads to just amazing scenes both between the boys, but also Newt and Tina. 

- Tina Goldstein. Oh she’s not going easy on Newt at first, but you understand pretty quickly that it’s her way to put up a shield to protect herself. She is very much her own character though don’t worry about that! Both Newt and Tina are given a chance to evolve a bit but also be themselves before a relationship which is a good thing. The Archive scenes in the French Ministry (fondly named Salamander Eyes by fans because of the song playing) is amazing for Newtina fans. No there’s no kiss. No touches, but it doesn’t need that because it is downright amazing and unexpectedly funny. Jacob has already told Newt not to talk about her eyes reminding him of salamanders, but of course he starts talking about it before going “I’m not supposed to tell you” and the whole scene is just delightful. It really ends with Tina herself totally getting it and finishes to compliment for him. After that there’s not much time for romance, but she warms up to him and work together and is therefore the ONLY canon ship in this movie not at a terrible place at the end!

- Credence and Nagini. I’m going to say it as it is. I am not invested in Credence. I don’t particularly like him. Though it’s better off in this movie than the first. But while the moment when he met his old nanny or whatever was lovely, it dragged on. I just didn’t care enough and wanted to get back to literally anyone else. Claudia Kim as Nagini though is captivating. She’s absolutely stunning and like with Eddie it’s not just because she’s beautiful to look at. Just, captivating.

- Albus Dumbledore! His introduction scene is fantastic and the lovely little music playing. Wonderful. He talks about the view and conjures the fog and we know the following scenes with him trying to convince Newt to go to Paris. Eddie and Jude has wonderful chemistry and plays off each other absolutely great! Jude makes a far more likeable Dumbledore. Not to say the old actors were bad, but I’m not really a Potterhead either so I don’t particularly care. 

- Theseus Scamander and Leta Lestrange. Not in it as much as I thought, but I am certain their screentime is less than what it felt like. I adored Theseus. I did expect to like him, but that he’d be so lovely? Wow. I’ll talk about him and Newt further down. Leta was also wonderful. I am not a huge fan of Zoe Kravitz, but girl can act and she gives Leta a whole lot of heart and... she does meet her end in this movie as I expected. I did get the feeling that she would be a one movie character.

- The soundtrack. Wow. Of course I listened to it once it was released. I am very fond of listening to movie soundtracks and while the first one was good, this one is more complete. It’s full songs from full scenes, not cut to pieces from all around the movie. It’s epic, it’s cute, it’s sad, it’s... it has everything. I got to say the Salamander Eyes helped make it’s scene so magical. ‘Wands to the Earth’ and ‘Spread the World’ are the epic ones. Like massively so. Chills down my arms and legs. And big shit going down on screen.

- Creatures. Can’t have a review of a Fantastic Beasts movie without mentioning the beasts eh? I did miss Dougal and the Occamys, but there were new wonderful creatures here. Favorites being baby nifflers of course. Wildely adorable! The Kelpie scene is wonderful and Newt with wet shirt and Bunty suggesting him to take his shirt off was hilarious btw. But the very favorite was the ZouWu. I was enchanted by that creature from the moment we first saw it in the Comic Con trailer. Wonderful creature. Wonderful interactions with Newt. And the Niffler from the first movie. Adorable as ever and even robs Grindelwald at the end. I did worry for it’s life there, but phew! Survial!

- Newt/Leta/Theseus. You’ll be glad to hear there really isn’t a love triangle going on here at all. In fact Newt don’t seem to have no issue with his brother and childhood friend being engaged at all. In fact he humorusly points out that he’s set to be the best man (HEARTBREAK). A curious moment though near the end. We get a close up of Newt, then cut to Leta saying “I love you” before camera cuts to Newt and Theseus. Both of them. Leaving it a bit “Was it meant for Newt or Theseus?”, but afterwards I think it was giving a double meaning. “I love you” to Newt for the years of friendship. “I love you” to Theseus for his romantic love. It was very touching as she then dies. But yes people will start bitching about woman dying for a man and “male tears” as well as people being racist for killing her. 

- Theseus and Newt. Now this one was the big delightful shock alongside Newt’s character. Based on trailers and promos we are led to believe the brothers’ relationship is very strained, but in fact it’s quite lovely. Theseus shows a lot of love for Newt from the get go. Yeah there’s the “Be less like you” moment, but they’re brothers. That’s hardly the worst thing one has said to a sibling trust me. Theseus also hugs Newt quite adorable in which Newt’s like O_O Eh? Without hugging back, but it allows Theseus to whisper that he’s being followed. Theseus isn’t the one chasing after Newt. He only does that once Newt polyjuices himself to look like Theseus in the French Ministry XD Of course the heartbreaker is at the end when everything is over and they get a moment where Theseus has in fact lost his fiance. Newt goes over and hugs him and tells him he’s on his side now. Just wonderful. I am every bit a lover of bromance and this movie gave me so much of it with Theseus and Newt and Newt and Jacob.

- I’m going to try to sum it up here. The minor cast is wonderful too. I quite liked Kama. The young Newt and Leta are great. McGonagall being alive and an adult is not explained at all unless I completely lost out on something. The editing is terrible in this movie and the pacing is a bit off. Some scenes are quite rushed, but at the same time the movie feels long. But not in a bad way. It’s just some editing are weird. Like one moment they are in the sewers, they hear the zou wu roar and suddenly they’re in the streets for a minute clip perhaps and it’s all done so quickly. Which is a pity because it’s a lovely scene. I also wish they had made more out of the fact that Newt’s book titled “FANTASTIC BEASTS AND WHERE TO FIND THEM” weren’t made more fuss about. Like, it’s the title of the first movie man? 

So it has it’s flaws and I understand why people that are not into these movies wouldn’t really follow on here. I mean I’m not a Potterhead so I didn’t understand the last twist of the movie before someone told me. But in the end the good outweights the bad so far. It’s a very rewatchable movie because so much happens. Too much even, but still. I love a movie that gives and gives even after watching it many times. 

Go watch it yourself. Make up your own mind. I will be watching it again tonight already XD

[eversall]

Jimon #9? Cause i love that drama 👌👌

okay idk who this is but 9 isn’t dramatic but I’m gonna do it for you anyway and then if you find the one you wanted anon i guess prompt me again????

a note: they play a drinking game called paranoia in this. you sit in a circle. first player turns to the person on their left and whispers a question which can be answered by someone’s name (i.e., who’s most likely to get in a car crash, who’s most likely to get pregnant first, etc.) questions range from really tame to really really kinky. the person the question was whispered to responds out loud with the name of someone in the circle that isn’t the person who asked the question. so everyone in the circle knows the answer, but not the question. if the person whose name was answered wants to know what the question was, they can challenge for the question by drinking a shot, and then the question has to be said out loud for everyone to hear.

send me a ship and a kiss prompt from this list! closed

9. in public

The planned wine-night at Magnus’ goes immediately downhill when Simon walks through the door of Magnus’ apartment and sees Jace relaxing on the couch, laughing at something Maia’s saying. 

“I don’t want to be here,” he says, frowning, instead of greeting Clary, who opened the door for him. She looks at him in confusion, and then follows his gaze to see what he’s looking at. 

When she see’s that its Jace that’s caught his attention, she sighs. “I thought you two were over this.” 

Simon looks at her blankly for a moment. His brain is racing with images of Jace - Jace kissing him furiously in the privacy of his apartment, Jace dropping to his knees and unzipping Simon’s jeans, Jace, splayed out on Simon’s cheap sheets, mouth open on a soundless scream and eyes fixed on Simon as he arches his back and groans, shuddering up against Simon’s body as he comes. 

“Right,” he says, unsteady on his feet as he shifts into the role of Simon, the guy who Jace has certainly never hooked up with when no one was looking. “I - I definitely am.”

He takes his coat off, and when he toes his shoes off Jace looks up and sees him. His expression immediately closes off, unreadable and hard. 

Clary shoves at Simon. “Behave,” she hisses. Simon grunts, eyes fixed on Jace. From next to him, Clary sighs and tells Simon that she’s getting him a drink. Maia gets up too, wandering off to the kitchen, and then it’s just Jace and Simon in the living room, looking at each other. 

Jace crosses his arms. “If I’d know you were going to be here, I wouldn’t have come,” he says, his voice hard. Simon swallows against the hurt that lodges in his chest when he hears that. 

“Believe me,” Simon says bitterly, “I feel the same way.” 

“Good,” Jace says shortly. 

Simon can’t help but stare at him, drinking in the sight of his arms, and his jaw, and his fucking eyes. He’s always been so weak for Jace, in a way that makes him hate himself. It’s just - Jace is funny, when he wants to be, and he’s got walls miles high but he used to let them down for Simon, let Simon see the caring, intensely loyal, genuinely fucking good person . 

He used to. Until a night of drinking and raw, honest confessions about their fears in life had turned into them breathlessly kissing each other, desperate want spilling over into the way Simon had clutched at Jace. It’s Simon’s fault - he shouldn’t have slept with someone who will never feel the same way about him. 

But - the bitter, spiteful part of Simon’s can’t help but think that it’s Jace fault too. For acting like there was some chance. For making Simon believe, when he knows how much it’s hurt Simon, to the core, to always be the guy that’s left behind in relationships. 

Now, though, he’s just - suddenly he’s just too tired for this. 

“Just pretend for tonight,” Simon says, tiredly, “for everyone else’s sake.” He turns and leaves, making his way to the kitchen and resisting the intense urge to look back at the man of his dreams. 

It’s game night, so Simon forces all thoughts of Jace to the back of his mind and tries to limit the amount of wine he drinks so that he doesn’t end up making a fool of himself. He makes sure to sit as far as possible from Jace and interact with him as little as possible, and he manages it through rounds of Werewolf, a few card games, and Mad Libs. Then they start playing Paranoia, and Simon’s instantly on high alert as the drunker members of their circle start asking more and more risque questions. 

He notices with mounting trepidation that Jace hasn’t been drinking that much either through the night. They’re the most sober in the circle. Jace meets his eyes from across the room, and Simon nearly startles backward with how bright they are, how he’s not breaking the gaze. 

“That’s easy,” Alec announces loudly from next to Jace, so loudly that he’s shouting, “that would be Magnus.” 

From next to him, Clary titters drunkenly, and then slaps at Alec’s shoulder. “I forgot to say besides Magnus in my question.” 

“Too late, no takebacks, and I’m related to some of the people in this circle.” He says, unrepentant. His voice is taking on a mocking tone that only ever happens when Alec’s truly drunk, and Simon hides a laugh behind his glass of wine, nudging Izzy next to him and sharing a significant look. 

“Challenge, Magnus?” Clary calls out. Magnus smirks, looking slightly off balance from where he’s draping an elegant scarf around his cat. 

“Of course,” he drawls, “I’m not even drunk.” He pets Church and waves his hand in the general direction of his bedroom. “Fetch, my noble canine.” Church blinks, unimpressed, and goes to sleep. 

“Ah, well.” Magnus reaches towards the center of the circle and grabs one of the glasses and the bottle of vodka, pouring himself out a healthy shot. “Cheers!” He gulps it down, and then without missing a beat he says, “Question, Clary.” 

“I asked him who in this circle has the best ass.” 

Alec snorts. “So easy. It’s Magn-ass.” 

There’s a moment of silence in the circle, and then everyone breaks into uproarious laughter. Simon snickers as he sees Maia throw a napkin at Alec, who throws it right back at her. 

Izzy sighs. “That’s such a bad question, Clary. You should have asked who the biggest ass in the circle is.” 

“You,” Clary warbles drunkenly, pointing a lazily drifting finger at Izzy, at the exact same moment that Jace says with a hard look on his face “Simon’s the biggest asshole in this circle.”

Simon stiffens, his blood running cold. Everyone awkwardly pauses to look between the two of them. 

“Er,” Maia says, “boys - “ 

Simon laughs harshly. “No, it’s okay,” he waves Maia off, “takes one to know one, right Jace?” 

He’s burning with anger, and it’s a cold and unnatural feeling, to be this furious at the same time that he’s angry. He can see Jace’s fingers fold into a fist, and he opens his mouth to say something, but the thick tension is broken by Clary swaying forward and saying, “Hey, I don’t think that was the question!”

Simon sighs, sitting back as Izzy laughs just a touch too loudly and chimes in with something else that Magnus immediately counters her on. Simon shakes his head. draining his glass of wine and putting it to the side. 

“My turn,” Alec announces, turning to Jace, who’s still stony-faced. Alec pauses, and then glances at Simon strangely before he turns back to Jace and whispers a question. 

Jace’s face pales, and his eyes sweep over the circle before his gaze settles on Simon. “No,” he croaks out, “no, Alec, don’t make me answer that.” He looks downright frightened, like he’s been cornered, but Alec is looking shrewdly at Jace. 

“I’ve been thinking that something’s been up with you,” Alec says accusingly, “so now answer the question.” 

“It’s not that simple,” Jace counters. 

Maia groans. “They’re having a conversation without us. Just answer the question, Jace, most of us are so drunk we won’t drink again anyway probably. No challenge.” 

Jace rolls his eyes. “I’m not fucking answering it.” 

Alec shrugs. “Then I think I know everything I need to know anyway.”

“Alec - “

“You’ve been running from this for two years - “

“Simon.” 

Simon snaps his head up, staring as Jace pushes a hand through his hair, looking defeated and unhappy. “Satisfied?” he asks Alec. Alec sits back. 

“Very,” he says softly. “I know what I’m doing, Jace.” 

Simon’s throat is dry as he looks at Jace, whose face is immeasurably sad. “Challenge,” he immediately says. 

“You don’t want to do that,” Jace warns. 

“I do.” Simon reaches for the vodka and doesn’t even bother pouring a shot out, just tips the bottle over and chugs a good amount. From beside him, Izzy whispers oh my God. “Challenge, Jace.” 

Jace’s mouth is set in a hard, angry line. “The question was who I would date in this circle. But you already knew the answer to that anyway, Simon.” 

Simon’s heart is in his throat, beating rabbit-fast. Everyone’s staring at them now, and there’s a pin-drop silence that stretches between the two of them, taut with hurt and tension. 

“I’m not another one of your conquests,” Simon says hoarsely. “I won’t be.” 

“I asked you on a date, Simon.” 

“While you were drunk.” 

Jace laughs bitterly. “Why would that mean I didn’t mean it?” 

“Because you never mentioned it again! Because I won’t fucking put my heart on my sleeve for someone I’m not even sure likes me, much less - “ 

He falters, his words dying in his throat. He’s said too much. Everyone’s looking at him, and Jace’s face crumples. 

“You think I don’t like you?” he says, his voice low. His eyes are dark, his eyebrows slanting down dangerously. 

Simon gestures around them. “Everything we did, we did behind closed doors. You hid me away. What was I supposed to think?” 

Jace’s expression is unreadable, and then he’s striding forward, and for a second Simon think’s that he’s finally pushed too far, that Jace is going to deck him, and he takes a half-step backwards, but Jace’s hands come up to cradle Simon’s face and instead he kisses Simon, so softly and slowly that Simon feels like he’s going to cry. Jace’s fingers are gentle where they’re stroking Simon’s hair, and Simon hesitantly curls a hand in Jace’s shirt. 

There’s a sudden wolf-whistle from what sounds like Alec, and Simon breaks away, feeling his cheeks heat with embarassment, but Jace doesn’t let him go far, keeping him in place and pressing his forehead to Simon’s. 

“I - “ Jace says, haltingly, and then he takes a deep breath. “I like you more than I know what to do with. Will you go on a date with me?” 

There’s an audience around them, but Simon doesn’t care. Breathless, he whispers “Yes” and kisses Jace again, heart jumping into overdrive as something in him settles, and he thinks oh - because this things inside him that suddenly feels right as Jace holds him close is what he thinks he’s been waiting for his whole life. 

[aslanjadecarlyle]

a circus ain't a love story (Barlyle)

I know that, obviously, cars did not exist in the time period the film takes place in. I tried to think of ways to modernize the fic, but couldn't think of anything that I liked. I still wanted to use Getaway Car by Taylor Swift, though — the inspiration struck me after realizing just how Barlyle-esque the song sounds. So, in the case of this fic, the "getaway car" is more of a metaphor than anything! And, of course, I DO NOT own the song or the lyrics, have no association with Taylor Swift, and am not making money in any way using this little oneshot.

Nothing in this oneshot is *too* graphic, but I put an M rating just in case

---

No, nothing good starts in a getaway car

It all seemed too good to be true. When P.T. Barnum first approached him about joining his circus, Phillip viewed the man's promises as an opportunity to finally escape his parents' iron-clad clutches. After Barnum promised him 10% in all profits earned by the circus, he jumped at the chance to leave his old, stale playwriting life behind.

He didn't realize, then, that when you jump, you're bound to fall.

And when you fall, you break.

He was the best of times, the worst of crimes

I struck a match and blew your mind

But I didn't mean it

And you didn't see it

Phillip always admired the ringmaster's energy, but sometimes the man was too spontaneous for his own good. They got along well until Barnum insisted on leaving to tour with Jenny Lind — a woman who, really, caused much more trouble than she was worth. Their fights leading up to Barnum's departure were too loud, too passionate, and always left Phillip feeling terribly confused. Barnum would storm away in a huff, leaving Phillip to wonder — was this all a game? Had Barnum only used him, used him for his wealth and to get close to Jenny Lind — a woman that he didn't even know?

When Barnum left, Phillip still couldn't clear his mind of his troubling, thunderous thoughts.

But it was after the fire when things really changed.

The ties were black, the lies were white

And shades of grey in candlelight

I wanted to leave him

I needed a reason

It seemed only minutes after the fire that Phillip was released from the hospital and found himself in a confusing, terrifying affair with P.T. Barn — er, Phineas. After Charity and the girls left him, upon hearing the news of his affair with Jenny Lind, it was Phillip that Phineas turned to in a sudden moment of need. Phillip accepted his kisses and affection willingly enough at first, but the man had many troubles — too many, Phillip found, to possibly handle — and Phillip quickly went from being excited for their nights together to being downright wary and hesitant.

Phillip moaned for Phineas, led Phineas to believe that he was who Phillip lusted for, but after the first few couplings, he felt nothing but... detachment. Though he laid willingly with Phineas, he allowed his mind to wander and, on the inside, his heart ached as the older man moaned with release above him. He was left aching (Phineas worked himself up to be so frustrated that he was rarely gentle) and empty afterwards, the furthest from content he could be without being downright forced, as the older man rolled over with a sigh beside him and quickly fell asleep. He never complained when he found that Phillip had gotten up and left the bedroom in the morning — either he didn't remember falling asleep together, or he just didn't care. And, even though Phillip felt no real want for the man, that hurt him more than he'd ever care to let Phineas know.

X marks the spot, where we fell apart

He poisoned the well, I was lyin' to myself

I knew it from the first Old Fashioned, we were cursed

We never had a shotgun shot in the dark

If Phineas ever questioned their "relationship" (whatever it could be called), he didn't let on about it. Phillip didn't need convincing that he admired the man — that's what the feeling was, admiration — but he had been a fool to think he could feel anything more for the ringmaster. He was grateful to Phineas for getting him out of a hellish situation — he certainly did not miss his mundane plays or his father's regular beatings — but he'd go mad if he had to fake his way through a romantic or sexual relationship with Phineas any longer. He was almost tempted to tell Phineas that he was lying with one of the other circus acts just to get the man off his back. But, knowing Phineas, he'd surely check with said circus act, and then—

How'd he even end up in this mess in the first place?

He couldn't remember anymore.

You were drivin' the getaway car

We were flyin', but we'd never get far

Don't pretend it's such a mystery

Think about the place where you first met me

Sometimes, Phillip would read about his parents in the newspaper. Reading about his father, who had officially 'cut all ties' with him, left a deep, aching wound in his chest. It was because of his father that he ended up at the bar every night, eventually leading to his first meeting with Phineas.

So, really, it was his father that Phillip could thank. Meeting with Phineas had been the perfect getaway, the key to his new life – or so he'd thought.

In retrospect, it probably wasn't a great idea to make business deals when you were near-stumbling drunk and could be easily persuaded by a singing man wearing a top hat.

We're ridin' in a getaway car

There were sirens in the beat of your heart

Should've known I'd be the first to leave

Think about the place where you first met me

It was in a newspaper clipping where Phillip found out about his father's passing. All his breath whooshed from his body and he set the newspaper down on the table before resting his head in his arms.

He didn't realize Phineas was in the room until he heard the deep, rumbling voice ask him if he was all right.

He said he was, but he didn't lift his head from the table.

A firm, strong hand came down to rest on his shoulder and he turned his head to peek at Phineas. The man promised that he'd make it up to Phillip that night, he'd make sure that Phillip forgot all about his father, but they couldn't do anything about it right now. They had a show to run, after all, and they needed to hurry if they didn't want to be late.

Phillip started to get up, started to go for his coat and top hat, but then he paused. He turned to Phineas.

Actually, he said, I think I'll go to the bar tonight.

Phineas stopped, paused as if considering Phillip's words, then slowly nodded. He asked if he should come along.

Phillip said no.

In a getaway car, oh-oh

No, they never get far, oh-ahh

No, nothing good starts in a getaway car

Going to the bar wasn't the best idea, but Phillip needed to get away. So, he found himself drawn back to the place where it had all began.

He quickly lost track of how many drinks he'd consumed, but thankfully the bartender didn't ask questions. When somebody came through the front doors, his grip on his glass tightened and he looked back at the entry with bleary eyes. For a heart-stopping moment, he thought it was Phineas.

No, not Phineas. Just an older-looking man with salt and pepper hair.

He tried to relax, but try as he might his shoulders remained tense and he sat perched on the barstool as if ready to bolt at any moment. The bartender asked if he was all right.

Another, he demanded.

This time, the bartender hesitated.

I'm paying you, aren't I? Another!

He said a silent thanks when the bartender finally took his glass and filled it. The cool glass between his fingers was a blessing and he didn't hesitate before tipping the drink back and downing it in one gulp.

He got sick before the alcohol had the chance to settle in his stomach.

He didn't remember falling off of the barstool.

It was the great escape, the prison break

The light of freedom on my face

But you weren't thinkin'

And I was just drinkin'

He woke up to a pounding headache and a red-faced Phineas.

What were you thinking?! Phineas demanded.

Phillip groaned and rolled onto his stomach. He was lying in a bed. Their bed? Phineas's bed?

He didn't know anymore.

As Phineas proceeded to demand why he felt the need to get so drunk, Phillip drifted back into himself. He had a skull-splitting headache, but even that was forgotten as he drifted away, away from that room, and away from the circus.

Are you crying? Phineas asked.

With a jolt, Phillip realized that there were, in fact, tears on his face. He lifted his hand and had just looked down to study his wet fingers when he felt Phineas's weight settle next to him on the bed.

Phillip, if there's anything you need to get off your chest—

I can't, he said, looking up.

Phineas paused. Frowned. Waited in silence for Phillip to continue.

I – I... nevermind.

Phillip got up. Swayed a little, dizzy with a hangover, but ignored it and managed to stumble his way out of the bedroom. He had no idea what time it was, if they had a performance coming up, but he didn't care.

All he cared about was getting out of there.

Wait! Phineas called. Where are you going?

I'll see you at the circus.

While he was runnin' after us, I was screamin', "go, go, go!"

But with three of us, honey, it's a side show

And a circus ain't a love story

And now we're both sorry (we're both sorry)

Phillip beat Phineas to the circus. Truth be told, he was very surprised that Phineas didn't try to follow him, but he was also relieved. He knew that he would need to deal with Phineas eventually, but to have even the shortest of breaks was a relief.

He sat on a bale of hay talking with Anne Wheeler, and felt a terrible guilt that started by twisting its way through his stomach and crawling up toward his brain. Anne was beautiful, talented, funny, and smart — everything, he'd thought for years, that he had looked for in a potential bride, before he found himself swept up in the most confusing relationship of his life with a man who had dug his own grave by kissing Jenny Lind. Somehow, he had dragged Phillip down with him.

If the affair with Phineas never started, Phillip wondered, would he have found comfort in the arms of Anne Wheeler?

She was so beautiful as she sat there, smiling and laughing with him. He didn't even know what they were talking about, he was so distracted by—

No. He couldn't think like that.

Even if he did manage to leave Phineas, that meant leaning the circus. He couldn't take Anne away from a world she loved so much.

He planned to leave, and he had already gotten attached to the circus itself. That was hard enough. He couldn't get attached to Anne, too. Hadn't he learned his lesson with Phineas?

The circus was no place for a love story.

X marks the spot, where we fell apart

He poisoned the well, every man for himself

I knew it from the first Old Fashioned, we were cursed

It hit you like a shotgun shot to the heart

When Phillip finally worked up the courage to tell Phineas that he never felt the... whatever it was supposed to be, between them, it had gone about just as badly as he'd expected.

Phineas stumbled back, as if shot, and stared at Phillip with wide, wild eyes.

What do you mean? Aren't I enough for you?

Phillip watched him, gulped, tried to force words out of his mouth. The anger melted away from Phineas quickly, like snow melting on the first day of spring, and he stumbled back into his armchair with his head in his hands.

Weeping.

Phillip stared. Horrified.

He couldn't do this.

I'm sorry, he whispered.

Phineas looked up. He looked like a child peeking out at Phillip from between his fingers.

Don't leave me, Phineas begged. Don't go.

Silence.

I'll be better. I promise. Please.

Phillip stared. Gulped. Tears gathered in his eyes.

Phineas stared at him, looking miserable.

Phillip's hands shook.

Okay, he whispered.

Okay?

I'll stay.

You were drivin' the getaway car

We were flyin', but we'd never get far

Don't pretend it's such a mystery

Think about the place where you first met me

That night, Phineas tried to be better. He tried to give Phillip what he wanted, tried to give more than receive.

It didn't work. Try as he might, Phillip found himself detaching again. Phineas's actions built up a release waiting to uncoil in the pit of his stomach, but Phillip's mind wandered.

He thought of Anne, but quickly shooed her face away.

He thought of the bar. Oh God, the bar — he should hate that place for what it had done to his life, but he found himself longing for it. He longed for a time when he didn't know Phineas Barnum's face from the average Joe next door.

When he cried, Phineas thought it was because of his performance. Letting out a slight, contented grunt, Phineas kissed Phillip's forehead after they'd finished before rolling off of him.

That night was the first night that Phineas pulled Phillip close as he drifted off to sleep. But Phillip stayed awake, wide awake and unmoving, staring at the blank, black wall.

Phineas's arms felt like chains around his torso.

We're ridin' in a getaway car

There were sirens in the beat of your heart

Should've known I'd be the first to leave

Think about the place where you first met me

Why him?

That was one of the many things that Phillip couldn't figure out.

Why had Phineas selected him to help run the circus, to become close with, to lie with? He supposed that he could understand Phineas from a business aspect — his family's money certainly helped, and even after he died Mr. Carlyle had left him a (very) small amount — but he couldn't understand what had happened to lead Phineas to Phillip in a more... physical way.

The man loved women, did he not? He had been married to Charity for years, and only split because he'd been kissing another woman. Not a man.

So. Why. Him?

Phillip was too afraid to ask.

He'd been too afraid to leave him, had been worked down by Phineas's vulnerability, but he had to leave. He had to.

He'd find a way.

In a getaway car, oh-oh

No, they never get far, oh-ahh

No, nothing good starts in a getaway car

He was a fool.

He was a fool to take that business offer.

He was a fool to associate with P.T. Barnum in the first place.

He'd been blinded by the chance to leave his old life behind.

He didn't think to stop and ponder the consequences.

But even then — how could he have predicted this?

Never in a million years would he have thought himself to be in this situation.

He was suffocating.

Nothing good had come out of this.

Nothing at all.

Phillip closed his eyes.

Blocked out the deep, shuddering gasps from the man above him.

And drifted.

We were jet-set, Bonnie and Clyde

Until I switched to the other side

To the other si-i-i-i-ide

It's no surprise I turned you in

'Cause us traitors never win

It didn't used to be all bad. Before the fire, and before Jenny Lind, Phillip highly respected Phineas Barnum. The two got along incredibly until their arguments over the tour with Jenny took over all their time together.

Before then, working with Phineas was the most fun Phillip had ever experienced in all his life. They made an incredible duo and were often complimented over their abilities to make the circus a breathtaking experience no matter how often a person went. Phillip believed that crossing over to "the other side" was the best decision he'd ever made.

Oh, how quickly that had changed.

He had a plan now, at least. He had money, he had resources. All he had to do was slip away from Phineas... and leave his circus family behind.

He couldn't think about how difficult that part was going to be, though. He was so close. He could taste freedom on the tip of his tongue, could feel it coursing through his veins. This time, he really couldn't wait anymore.

The next stage of his plan was risky, and terrifying. He waited for a moment when he and Phineas were alone, when Phineas was actually in a rational mindset and not attempting to paw away his clothes.

It was now or never.

Phineas, I was wondering.

Hmm?

Would you like to leave the city with me? Just for the weekend — Lettie can take over the shows.

Phineas stared at him and he held his breath. The ringmaster blinked once. Twice.

Away? With you?

Yes.

Alone?

Yes.

Phineas smiled and visibly relaxed, sinking low into his chair. His smile was soft, his eyes warm. For a moment, staring at Phineas in this state, Phillip thought... maybe I could really love him.

No, he shook his head. No, I couldn't.

Phineas hadn't said anything so Phillip chewed on his lower lip. Well? he asked.

Phineas's eyes sparkled.

I'll fetch us a carriage.

I'm in a getaway car

I left you in a motel bar

Put the money in a bag and I stole the keys

That was the last time you ever saw me

They had booked two rooms, telling the hotel staff that they were there on a 'business meeting,' but Phineas snuck into Phillip's room that night, still incredibly drunk from fooling around at the bar earlier in the evening. Phillip, for once, forced himself to remain totally sober as he watched his former friend and business partner drown himself in alcohol.

When Phineas stumbled into Phillip's room, it was a wonder how he didn't manage to wake up everyone in the motel. Phillip shushed him only with promises of sex, which, of course, flustered Phineas and shut him up near immediately.

Just one more night, Phillip told himself as the tears rolled down his cheeks and wettened his ears. Just one more night and then it's over, you never have to lie with him again.

After Phineas fell asleep, satisfied and drunk, Phillip crawled out of bed and stood on trembling legs. He dressed, grabbed the money, and, with one last look back at Phineas Taylor Barnum, left the room, silent but for the slight 'click' of the door as it closed behind him.

Phillip Carlyle did not look back as he freed one of the horses from the carriage and left the motel behind in the night.

Drivin' the getaway car

We were flyin', but we'd never get far

Don't pretend it's such a mystery

Think about the place where you first met me

The ride was rough, Phillip hadn't ridden a horse in years and certainly wasn't used to horse riding in the dark, but they managed to find another motel in the next town or two over.

Phillip tied up the horse, checked in (it was quite late, but the staff managed to be persuaded with more profit than they'd seen in a week), and crashed as soon as his head hit the pillow.

He dreamt of Phineas that night.

We're ridin' in a getaway car

There were sirens in the beat of your heart

Should've known I'd be the first to leave

Think about the place where you first met me

He woke with a start, but relief flooded his body once he remembered where he was. His body was sore with the after effects of sex and horse riding, but it was also slack with relief.

He was finally free.

Sighing, he got out of bed and dressed. Nobody in the main lobby questioned why he was there — he supposed word hadn't gotten out yet of his leaving the circus — but he made quick business of eating breakfast and checking out.

Now that he had no more obligations to Phineas, the circus, or his parents, Phillip Carlyle was, for the first time in his life, free to do whatever he desired. He had the entire world at his fingertips.

He was thankful to P.T. Barnum and the circus troupe for getting him out of a lifestyle he had no business living, but Phillip realized that that was all they could ever do for him.

Soon, Phineas would become nothing but a distant memory.

In a getaway car, oh-oh

No, they never get far, oh-ahh

No, nothing good starts in a getaway car

It was in a theatre, some months later, when Phillip caught sight of Phineas Taylor Barnum for the first time since his departure. The lights in the theatre were low, the show was about to begin, but Phillip gasped and ducked his head, careful not to let the other man spot him.

Phineas looked like... he'd seen better days. He sat slouched in his seat and kept his head low, avoiding eye contact with those around him. It was the only time Phillip had ever seen Phineas not trying to be the center of attention.

The ringmaster shifted and turned in his seat, and Phillip quickly looked away. After a moment, he attempted to peek at the man from the corner of his eye, but voices erupting from the stage caught his attention instead and he faced forward.

The show was about to begin.

I was ridin' in a getaway car

I was cryin' in a getaway car

I was dyin' in a getaway car

Said goodbye in a getaway car

Phillip tried to sneak out of the theatre earlier, as not to be caught, but was caught up when an actor he knew — a man who'd played lead in one of Phillip's own plays, in fact — spotted him in the hall and stopped to chat. Apparently, he'd been cast as understudy for the male lead, but his use in the play hadn't been needed.

By the time the actor let him go, Phillip was swept up in a sea of people leaving the theatre. He tried to get out, tried to push forward, when—

Phillip?

The stranger's familiar voice pierced his ears and Phillip cringed as he turned around, not quite ready to make eye contact with Phineas Taylor Barnum.

Phineas, Phillip spoke, head bowed.

Phillip — can we talk?

Phillip looked up into those eyes — empty, hollow — for the first time in months, and gulped. He glanced around the still-crowded halls and, though nobody seemed to be paying them any mind, he felt his face redden with nerves.

All right, I suppose, but—

I know somewhere private we can go.

Phillip was surprised. Did Phineas just happen to hang around this particular theatre often?

Still, perhaps against his better judgment, he agreed to go with the crestfallen ringmaster.

Ridin' in a getaway car

I was cryin' in a getaway car

I was dyin' in a getaway car

Said goodbye in a getaway car

What the hell!

Phillip spluttered as he pushed back against Phineas's broad chest, gasping once Phineas's mouth left his. The ringmaster had taken them to an empty room where the theatre stored some of its smaller props. The lock on the door was broken and they'd been able to get inside easily enough.

Phillip had been a fool to think that 'talk' was all Phineas wanted to do.

Phineas... Phillip took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Tears wettened his eyelashes, but he refused to cry in front of the older man. When he opened his eyes again, Phineas wouldn't meet his gaze. I don't... want this... anymore.

Phil—

I thank you, Phillip cut in, and I appreciate all that you did to get me away from my suffocating life in the upper-class. But I can't do this, Phineas. I don't... desire you... in that way, anymore.

But you once did.

Phillip said nothing. He couldn't... because it was true.

What did I do? What can I do to make things good between us again?

Were things ever really good between us, Mr. Barnum?

Phineas flinched at the name, but said nothing.

You used me. I thought, maybe, that I could... learn to love you, or at least lust for you. But, Phin — you used me after you turned your own love life to shambles.

Phineas backed up. He stood against the wall, lips pressed together in a thin line. There was no trace of the extravagant ringmaster Phillip had once known.

Phillip sighed. Took a step forward, causing Phineas to look up hopefully. But, Phillip only reached up to trace Phineas's cheek and shake his head.

It's time for me to move on.

Phillip, please—

Phillip went for the door, opening it a crack before glancing back at the man over his shoulder.

Goodbye, Phineas.

Said goodbye in a getaway car

---

So, that was weird and impulsive and just... what? Lol, but it was my first 'songfic' and I hope you guys liked it! The writing style was fun and different for me to try, too — especially the dialogue, which was highly inspired by the novel The Road by Cormac McCarthy

[httplovecraft1890]

Tabula Rasa

A drabble that came to me earlier this week about a premise I’m not sure I’ve actually seen done yet in the LoveSick/Yandere Simulator fan fic writing community. You can consider its premise a slight AU given what we’ve seen thus far about the game’s back story or alternatively a prequel to pacifist!Ayano or good!Ayano play throughs. Happy (early) Father’s Day. You can continue reading here or go to this story’s AO3 page.

Mr. Aishi doesn't have an official name in canon yet, but I decided to go with Junichi as, based on an entry on BehindtheName.com, it's a combination of the characters for 'obey/submit,' 'pure,' and 'one.’

“…I tried, please believe me. I’m doing the best that I can. I’m ashamed of the things I’ve been put through, I’m ashamed of the person I am.” - Joy Division, “Isolation” (1980)

          The house feels surprisingly still for the middle of the day.

           It’s not a feeling that Junichi Aishi – no, he has to remind himself, when she isn’t home he’s Junichi Fukunaga once more – is used to. Every moment of every day and in every second of every minute in each hour, there is a pair of eyes on him. It’s a kind of tension that would be hard to describe if he could ever find the courage within him to tell his story to someone, anyone, who might listen. He thinks it might be the same sort of pregnant pause that soldiers must feel when they know that an enemy awaits them on the battlefield but no shooting has begun yet. The only difference between those men and himself is that despite the horrific cost they will face there is always an end for them though whether in death’s embrace or the shell-shocked aftermath of victory it doesn’t matter. For Junichi there are only brief moments he can claim are truly his own and it’s been that way ever since he moved in with her.

           ‘Trapped,’ he corrects himself bitterly. ‘No need to let the Stockholm syndrome slip in that much.’

           Today is one of those days. She had gone out to shop at the open air market in Buraza to fetch them pork cutlets for dinner tonight, among other things, about an hour ago now and he will have to work quickly if he’s to succeed in his plan. He tries not to think of the empty smile that ghosted her face as she told him she’d be back as soon as she could, normally hollow eyes lighting up to give the impression of human affection, but unable to mimic it if one were paying enough attention. She’s grown more trusting of him now since the birth of the monster. Perhaps she thinks that by having something that is theirs he won’t dare try what he’s been planning ever since they returned home from the hospital.

           She needs to be wrong just once.

           The monster’s room isn’t far away from theirs; it’s right across the hall, in fact. His fingers steady themselves on the smooth surface of the sliding door as Junichi closes his eyes. What he is about to do is only right and if there was anyone to watch he’s sure that no one would blame him. All he’s been through at her tender mercies… it’s not a fate he would wish on his worst enemy. She will cry, approximating real tears, but he knows that she’ll never make the connection between the monster’s slaying and his whereabouts today. Try as she might he’ll find ways to prevent her from delivering any more hell spawn into the world. Perhaps Junichi will try to set up an appointment for a vasectomy in the future. He’ll have to be careful of course. Baby fever is real, he knows, and sure to be at a pitch when it’s compounded by grief.

           He draws back the door and steps into the room. It’s surprisingly pleasant, if he does say so himself. Junichi had even told her that it was his responsibility as the male half of an expecting couple to take the initiative to prepare it. She had deferred to him as usual as he’d picked out the wallpaper covered in swirling pastels, the milky white chairs and changing station, and even the handsome oak crib in the center whose polished handles gleamed just so when the sunlight streamed in. It was downright picturesque. If circumstances were different, Junichi might have even been proud of himself for setting it all up.

           Junichi pushes himself forward. His window of opportunity gets smaller and smaller with each passing second he knows and he can’t afford to back out now. Nor can he think much about the implications of his decision either as any self-reflection would surely stop him in his tracks. He has no illusions that what he is going to do is fundamentally wrong. The monster’s nature hasn’t surfaced yet but it will in time. The shell it bears is no excuse for all the misery it can unleash if he doesn’t nip it in the bud now when he has the chance. Yet none of that reassurance seems to matter as he steps through the threshold and into its lair. His heart which had moments ago been as steady and calm as he could manage is doing overtime as he feels adrenaline begin to course through his veins.

           Making his way to the would-be bed he sees it there lying in wait for him, totally unaware and prone. If he were to allow sentimentality to creep into this he might even go so far as to say that his intended victim is cute. Sitting there in a pink jinbei, the monster’s chest slowly rises and falls, head resting gently against a sizable plush tanuki which his parents had dropped off the last time they’d visited during Golden Week. He tries not to pay attention to its rosy, chubby cheeks or a nose that reminds him oh so much of photos he’d seen of his grandmother. There can be no attachment between them; not now, not ever. But more than that Junichi tries to avoid its dark gray hair, thin as it is on its tiny head, and lips that even in sleep have formed a distinctive pout. If nothing else it steels his resolve to see this through to the end. Those things are hers, not his.

           He can remember the day she was conceived as clearly as what he’d had for lunch the other day at the Saikou corporate headquarters. It had been a Saturday when he’d been awoken by a pair of needy hands and met with a ravenous gaze on opening his eyes. She did this at times, sometimes with his permission, and sometimes without. On her better days she would ask him what he wanted to do in their bedroom, even letting him decline her advances if she felt magnanimous enough on rare occasions and Junichi hates how good she feels to be inside of and how wonderful her tongue manages to be against his most sensitive areas. Other days there is no choice in the matter. She would pin him to the mattress and suddenly he would be a scared high school student tied to an ancient creaking chair in the basement (a place he can’t go to now without breaking into a cold sweat), eyes shrunk to pinpricks and his breathing haggard as she straddled him, planting sloppy kisses all over him, over and over and over, “Tell me you love me, darling…”, “I don’t even know who you–”

           The audible cracking of his knuckles brings him out of his stupor and Junichi releases a grip on the crib’s railing he didn’t even know he’d had.

           He slowly reaches for one of the unused pillows by the creature’s head, removing it with all the skill of an experienced Jenga player. Junichi barely trusts himself enough to breathe at this point for fear of waking his target. It’s a quiet thing – on its best days he can even forget that it sits in this place at all until she asks him to check on it. Aside from the occasional murmur of discomfort to signal it needs a diaper change or to be fed Junichi might even go so far as to say it’s a baby that most parents could only dream of having. All of the supposed long nights that plague young couples haven’t hit him yet and he expects they never will. But he knows that it’s all an act, a ruse meant to fool him and the world from its instinctual nature. He knows firsthand what it will be like when its kind grows up. He doesn’t know how big her family is. Junichi doesn’t even know if she has siblings, but it doesn’t matter. Even if his act of rebellion will be known only to him and him alone, he at least fought against the fate he’s long since acquiesced to with a whimper every night when she wraps her arms around his midsection like a vice as they fall asleep.

           Junichi weighs the small object in his hands for a moment, feeling its cottony softness. He’ll be as gentle as he can with it as he pushes it down onto its face; he knows it won’t cry. ‘Sudden infant death syndrome, I’m afraid,’ says the imaginary doctor in his mind. ‘We don’t know the reasons for why they go. Sometimes… accidents like this just happen.’ Oh, he’ll weep alongside her then for appearances, but it’ll all be a show. She brought it into this world. Junichi’s practically doing the world a favor by ridding it of the vermin before him. But as he looks quickly away from the murder weapon and back to his target he realizes his mistake. He should’ve been quicker to do the deed.

           Its eyes have begun to flutter and for a moment Junichi forgets his plan, wanting more than anything to slam the object in his hands into its face and push down as hard as he can. He’s so close and there’s no guarantee he’ll get an opportunity like this for a long, long time and by that point an excuse might not be so easy. The opportunity literally lying in front of him is slipping out of his grasp. His hands hover in place over the monster’s head as he lowers the offending object. ‘Don’t look,’ he thinks as he tries to steady nerves which have begun to light themselves in panic over this latest setback. ‘If you do that, you’ll never be able to go through with it. You’re no murderer. You’re not her.’

           This is it.

           Do or die.

           He can’t feel guilty for destroying something whose only purpose is to perpetuate a cycle of abuse that is decades, if not centuries, old. What he’s doing is only right. Karma be damned, if he has to return in penance as some lower lifeform, he will. What Junichi is about to do is nothing but a mercy to the unsuspecting men beyond this house’s walls. The blood shared between them is as meaningless as the so-called marriage he’s been forced into. Junichi is totally and utterly alone in this hell. If she will never let him go then this might very well be the last act of defiance he can muster and, by all the gods in heaven, he will have it.

           If Junichi were a more observant man, however, he might have been able to avoid many things.

           He might have avoided her or at least able to incriminate her with something if he’d paid more attention to the girls who had slowly left or disappeared from Akademi one by one after they seemed to show some interest in him. He might have avoided her wolf in sheep’s clothing act about being too frightened to walk home with a murderer on the loose. Junichi might have avoided the chloroform rag that she’d brought along to use once they were navigating through one of Buraza’s alleyways. If he’d pulled out a little sooner he might not even have to destroy his innocence like he is attempting to at this very moment.

           But most importantly, Junichi might have avoided taking a minute too long to do the deed.

           His breath hitches in his throat as he meets the gaze of a pair of slate gray eyes staring up at him from the crib solemnly. No. No. This can’t be happening. It isn’t fair. All this time, trying to steel his nerves just right to do what he’s had to build himself up to for months ever since he found out she was pregnant… it’s slipped away from him. The pillow falls from his hands and bounces onto the soft bedding of the crib with a quiet plop. He can’t do this. Not now, not after making eye contact with it. A foolish part of Junichi doesn’t want the last thing for it to see being a father who doesn’t want it but instead whatever pleasant dreams are dancing through its head. It’s why he hasn’t downed an entire bottle’s worth of sleeping pills yet himself.

           There’s nothing that fills him with warmth left in him.

           He collapses to his knees, his hands sliding down the bars of its cage. Junichi wants so many things in this moment. He wants to scream, cry, run away and never look back from this place (as pointless as he knows that endeavor to be), to be the man in the photographs that litter his prison whose smile is genuine and not part of a carefully constructed mask, perhaps even more so than hers is, and to feel some sort of remorse for having contemplated for so long taking a child’s life. Instead Junichi feels the same deadened feeling he has felt ever since he came to live here sink in once more.

           Seconds turn into what Junichi is sure are minutes as he sits there, kneeling before his former target, shaking the bars of the crib as if he were the infant instead. It was foolish to think that he could ever hope to take control of his situation. She was right: there was nothing left for him outside and certainly no reason to do anything other than follow her whims. All he had to do was give up, to stop hoping that there would be a light at the end of the tunnel, and he would be free at last. Junichi had heard her casually mention before in passing that her father had been a man whose mind had never recovered whatever trauma it’d suffered when her mother had broken him. He is both empathetic and envious at the same time towards a complete stranger.

           Lost in his own despair, Junichi almost doesn’t notice the touch suddenly present against his left hand until he stops shuddering. But when at last he feels he’s cried as many tears as he’s able he finally turns towards the source of the sensation that has been resting against him. He’s tried to psyche himself up today for a litany of fake emotions: shock, grief, even anger, but surprise is not one of them and more so when that the feeling is genuine. In the time he has taken to wallow in his own self-pity his target has taken upon itself the duty of moving one of its small hands out to him, tiny fingers splayed against him as if it can somehow bless him and free him of his would-be sin, its expression unwavering in how calm it is.

           It takes all of Junichi’s willpower to meet its – her – eyes and he finds that as soon as he does he wants to look away in shame. She had done nothing to him; none of this had been her fault. In a war against someone who seemed remorseless to the depths in which she’d sink to keep her happiness, he’d sunk down too. Bile begins to rise in the back of Junichi’s throat as he tries desperately to mentally bargain with his daughter for forgiveness.

           Daughter.

           It’s the first time he’s ever ascribed that term to her. Oh, the hospital had told him that’s what she was, her mother told him that with a gleeful expression every single morning, but it was something he’d avoided altogether. It had been a foul word, a curse that was so awful he felt it shouldn’t pass from his lips. But now it seemed appropriate to him. In her own way, she was just as much a victim of circumstance as Junichi was.

           Picking himself up Junichi stares down at her. Features that had once seemed so alien, cruel that he could barely stomach them, no longer inspire that same sense of revulsion that they once had. Hesitating a moment, he reaches his arms down to pick up the girl, resting her head against the crook of his arm as he’d seen his aunt and uncle do countless times to his cousins when he was younger, her small body tucked close to his chest as he practically collapses onto the wicker chair next to her bed.

           ‘Do all things begin in innocence?’

           It’s a question that floats to the surface of his mind without much prompting. It’s hard to imagine at one point that she could be anything but the monster he knows her to be. But there must have been a time when even she was in his daughter’s place, defenseless and vulnerable, a tabula rasa waiting to be etched onto by the world’s sculptors. His thoughts travel briefly to her father, a living corpse of a man who saw, heard, tasted, smelled, and felt the world but at the same time couldn’t. Junichi didn’t blame him for retreating into himself. In its own way such a thing must have been like achieving nirvana. Yet had he fought as much as her mother…

           It was a dangerous line of thinking, Junichi knew. “Coulda, shoulda, woulda” was the eternal refrain of mankind. He was operating on a theory, perhaps even less than that, and it was something that he had no proof of. Perhaps this whole line of thinking was a sham and nature dictated everything. For her part, his daughter offers no support and no criticism to his reasoning. In the entire time since her departure from her little world, she has been totally silent, as per usual. Absently tugging on the neck of his white polo with his free hand, a nervous habit, a new plan begins to form, a desire for revenge borne out of anger at his failure and to atone for what he’s tried to do.

           “Your…” he has to steady himself to even the utter word, “…mommy isn’t the only one here for you. I am too.”

           Tears begin to well in the corner of his eyes and he has to fight the urge to give the little girl an impromptu bath.

           “I know I haven’t… haven’t been the best daddy, but I can change.”

           An understatement. She’ll never know just how lucky she was in avoiding what she did. Nor will she ever. It’s a secret he intends to take with him to his grave.

           “I don’t know if you can, but I’ll try to help you change too. We can be good together.”

           Images of his little girl over the years flash before him. Her first day of school, a broken arm from climbing a tree, sitting with other children at lunch, and, though he has to fight his way past his own desire to break into a panic, sitting across from someone and admiring them from afar. If she can’t understand what it means to be kind, then he will teach her, help her, so that she understands that she doesn’t have to be a monster.

           “I…”

           It’s not a burden he’s asked for but one he will undertake for everyone’s sake. Leaning forward, Junichi places his lips as gently as he can to her forehead in a kiss.

           “I love you, Ayano.”

           She will be her father’s daughter.

           He’ll make sure of it.