#i came to this conclusion while writing it: first is not really sang but getting to know while first hearing the melody

[cyberbrained]

Schwein Interview: Part 1 — Atsushi Sakurai / Rockin'F (June 2001)

There were different troubles, this time it was a fight with myself

Part 1 — Atsushi Sakurai interview Interviewer: Yoshiyuki Oono scans: tigerpal @ dreamwidth/livejournal

I thought everything would work out if I let my natural flavor spill freely in Japanese

Did you write the lyrics based on the compositions? Sakurai: That’s right. First, around last autumn, six compositions written by Sascha and Raymond were completed. The songs’ structure was well done, vocals and chorus were added. Although there were also vocals by Lucia [Cifarelli] in the song Porno, I was told “Please, Atsushi, add melodies and lyrics however you like here.” Generally that was the feeling. So, regarding the recording itself, from starting work on the songs, ideas came in more and more; times when we were told, “I’m entrusting you with everything,” increased. Hence, being given freedom in working, this became a collaboration.

Did you discuss the content of the lyrics with Raymond and co.? Sakurai: I did. Although I was told, “Please do whatever you like,” too many mental images were off so talking about the title and Raymond’s connotations gave me a hint for the lyrics.

This time unusual alcohol and women came up in the lyrics. Are those motifs Raymond held? Sakurai: Perhaps I should say it was simultaneous [between us]…

Like you recorded while drinking? Sakurai: There was that too (laugh). What Raymond said and the things I myself hold were rather close. “What can I do, I wonder?” When it was time to talk seriously, if I thought about what’s coming to mind, it was all things I like. Alcohol and women (laugh). But even though I liked the words that came first, I wondered what my specialty is. When there is time I would sugarcoat [my ideas] but this time around that kind of thing wasn’t needed. Working in a band up to now, sometimes I’d add things to myself that weren’t necessarily there [in me], so returning to myself like this allowed me to be myself.

Has there been an opinion among the members of Buck-Tick that “This Acchan now is very relaxed,” recently? Sakurai: This time, participating in this album, even though third parties could look at me closely, I was never aware of that. Regarding everyday life, I wasn’t thinking stuff like, “Let’s proceed calmly.”

This time there are lyrics coexisting in Japanese, English, and German. Were you worried about the distinction between each word? Sakurai: Frankly, I thought Japanese would be hard to fit in. I sang after Raymond did and there were times when things felt out of place. But if we’d stopped there nothing would have even started. Based on what I'm capable of doing, I thought everything would work out if I let my natural flavor spill freely in Japanese. My own singing, Sascha, Lucia, and Raymond’s vocals too, everyone’s sound would be captured. But it was definitely complicated because Japanese, which comes across direct, appeared suddenly.

What about the parts sung in German and English? Sakurai: Isn’t it brief really? I just did chorus and unison. Initially I didn’t think I’d be doing chorus in English, since there were a lot of people who could be entrusted with it. Symbolically, there were three people who could sing in English.

In Schwein there’s rap-like Japanese, German vocals have entered, that great sense of language is interesting, right? Sakurai: Sascha sang those. Basically, the lyrics he’d written were translated and then fitting lyrics were created [in addition]. I couldn’t get a precise conclusion from the translation, so I asked, “What atmosphere would it be?” and after that I started getting more mental images. That kind of feeling.

I had the conviction to work since “I’ve been given the other members’ compositions”

Isn’t it interesting how Schwein is reaping your style and everything you’ve done with Buck-Tick until now, like with Crown’s equalizing, Spank the Monkey’s part with the stacked double vocals? Sakurai: The engineers were first-timers; I could only give my abilities as a raw ingredient. There was an engineer called Russel [Kearney]; I told him, “Russel, you’re the chef. Handle it as you like[1].” After that we tried out many things, it was fun. There weren’t misses.

I listened to your vocals and there wasn’t anything out of place at all. Sakurai: I wondered if I could deliver in the gaps between the other vocals, but I wasn’t worried at all.

Then, what was your approach with Schwein? Sakurai: I had the conviction to work since “I’ve been given the other members’ compositions,” so there wasn’t any holding back. Raymond and Sascha’s experience and strengths brought out the best in me.

Who created the melody lines? Sakurai: Raymond and Sascha were in charge, Imai’s compositions are his own. With four people the melodies were well considered.

Conversely, how many songs did you devise the melody for?[2] Sakurai: Well, the one where I did things selfishly however I liked was Fantasia. I did the verse my way and the chorus’ melody came to me too… Then, Spank The Monkey’s chorus, Lard, Lips, Liquor’s melody, and for Organzola’s[3] duet part I was free to do whatever I liked.

How is your approach with Schwein different from that with Buck-Tick? Sakurai: Until now, although the composer had created the melody perfectly, this time whether it was the songs or the album as a whole, I couldn't easily imagine. Also, I wondered how far it would be good to go, how far I could go, but there wasn’t hesitation. That’s why, honestly, the feeling of collaborating and being free to do as I pleased with the melodies were first [in importance]. The singing itself was the same as always but regarding feelings I was able to keep the high tension for a month. There were different troubles and, thinking about it deeply, this time it was a fight with myself.

—

Notes:

[1]He called him コック, which means chef (in this case), because he did a pun on cooking in Japanese. I didn’t keep it in English out of fear it would sound unserious (of me). “Cook it up however you like” is what I would’ve gone with and in that case this note would read “Yes, he really said that.” Also...that word's other meaning had me loling hard at that bit at first glance.

[2]Sakurai isn’t credited with any compositions for Schwein. I suppose what they mean here is more along the lines of where his input was heavier.

[3]Re: Organzola as a title word (because idk when I’ll make it there with my speed): later in this interview (under Sascha’s part, which is the fourth and final part), it’s explained it’s a mashup of Organ, the English word + Gorgonzola, the Italian cheese, which apparently equals...g3n1tal organs. ...well, idk about you but I'm glad to learn this so many years later lmao

[his-writing-blog]

Shane continued going with the flow of the song. He felt it was right in a way only caring about his dear chickens felt lately.

In the same time, a not-so-mysterious figure was watching him from further in the woods. Harvey stared at the image painted in front of him. A man of his interest was sitting in the center of a nature, bathed in the light oh the crescent moon, calmly smiling and singing about him of all people. If Harvey were more of an active person, he could see himslef just run up to Shane, take him in his arms and never let go. But he decided to watch and burn this scene in his memory just so he could come back to it later.

Staring at Shane, Harvey didn't notice when he started accompanying his love interest on the song. What startled him was the different lyrics that came out of his mouth, although having the same melody.

"Tell me, tell me you love me..." Harvey's version was more of a whisper than an actual sing. Oh how different yet quite fitting the versions were. Something deep down told him to lose himself to the song. His heart wnted to go loose and finally get what it wanted oh so badly. But his mind was still fighting the urges.

What if Shane didn't really thought about him that way? What if it was about some other Harvey? But what if Shane ment him but it was all just a dream and Harvey was to wake up and never feel the fulfilement it was about to be brought? He didn't think he could live with this. It was one thing to be sure he would be never able to live one of his dreams, let alone two. Harvey thought that he'd rather stay delusional and hope for the man in front of him rather than be crushed to the ground yet again. He thought that this time he might not be able to pick himself up. He longed after this man for such a long time.

But the melody grew stronger and steadily mushed his brain, constantly affirming that he should get out and sing along Shane. And with each second it was becoming harder to resist the urge.

But what if Shane cared and repricotiated the feelings? What if the other man also hid his feelings with the thought that he was the weird one? What if they could be happy with one another? The pressure was starting to be unbearable.

His brain told him that if it was a dream, it was gonna be apleasing one at last. Harvey took a few steps towards the other man and started properly sing.

At that, Shane got quiet and turned around. He tensed up and observed Harvey with a pain in his eyes. How could Shane be so stupid and think that there won't be someone around, it's not like he was drunk! Shane was ready to bite at the doctors words until he started to get that Harvey was singing and what he was singing about. That shut him up qucky and made his ears go red.

Shane stood up and started to sing again, this time more quietly. At the same time, Harvey crossed the distance between them, standing in front of the ther man. They sang their parts, with each line somehow they got closer and before they knew they were hand in hand, dancing to their songs.

For them the song could have been playing forever. Realistically everything was done after 4 minutes. As the song came to the end, they stood in the moonlight, holding hands, their foreheads touching. Both of them were red in the face. And neither of them wanted it to end.

Shane was the first one to break the silence. "So... What does that make us?" He wanted to scream in Harvey's face, tell him to never let go or Shane would make sure that Harvey's life would be over. That his life would be over and he couldn't live anymore without him. But he just asked.

Harvey responded. "Whatever you want it to be." He wanted to fall on his knees and beg Shane to never leave him. He wanted to cry, grab onto whatever he could and hold for as long as he was in strenght.

Shane looked at him with uncertanity. "I think I want me and you to be us". It wasn and unusual sight to see him this doubtful.

And this time Harvey deccided that he needs to be with the steady hand. "I'd want it to be us as well." He stated and smiled at the other man assuringly. "So tell me... Tell me you love me?" Harvey smiled.

"I'm crazy for you, my boy." Shane returned the smile.

Crazy for you, oh boy | Shane x Harvey

Quick tags not in tags: suicidal thoughts mentioned, getting together, mostly fluff, bit of dark humor, they were friends before that, ooc sewers

Shane stood by the Saloon's bar in his usual spot. Also as usual, he was holding a pint of beer in his arm. And in his usual manner, Shane took a sip of his drink. Usually, his mind would be plauged by the visions (getting to work at jojamarkt next day).

Yoba, how he hated that place. He wouldn't work there anymore if he had any say in it. Sadly, he needed that money. Plus, he can't just leave poor Sam alone within the land of Tartarus under the lead of Krotos (Morris).

What was unusuall tonight, was the lack of thoughts regarding his little hell. Tonight his mind was stuck in the purgatory of longing after a feeling. A feeling that he wished for harder with each gramm of the alcohol in his blood.

Shane wasn't prone to those soul minglings before being brought back from the dead at The Clinic. The sight of his momentary guardian asleep on the fucking plastic stool, leaned agains the wall, legs curled to his chest and prepped against Shane's bed frame, made the ex-alcocholic stirr something deep inside of his chest and reset in his brain. He didn't think he could go back to looking at the man the same way he did before. In seconds, Harvey got promoted from being this mystical doctor seen by Shane once when he was running late to his job, to a real person that Shane wanted to get closer to.

Shane wouldn't have known what to call his current feeling if it wasn't for the new farmer, Laura. For someone so disorganised as him, Laura could muster up some good advice when coherent enough.

"The desire to be desired. And the desire to desire that thing the same way." Laura told Shane. He stopped in his track after hearing that. And then he burst out laughing. "What? If I didn't desire to pass down my legacy and Guiliermo didn't desire to be owned by me specifically, we wouldn't have each other!" She picked up her cat up to Shane's face. The orange cat looked at him right in the eye, as if challenging him. To what, Shane had no idea. But the devil's youngling must have sensed his lack of defense and meowed loudly in victory. Shane just turned around and went back to Marnie after loosing the one sided battle. He heard the farmer's laughter goes quiet as he walked.

Closing his eyes, Shane could almost see Harvey's face staring at him fondly. His mind tried to imagine his expression change to more passionate one. Shane tried not to let his mind take control. The more thoughts of this calliber, the most likely he was to send his addictions to the bottom of the cliffs alongside with him.

He looked down at his glass, half full with a beer. It was supposed to be his first and only one tonight. But with how things were going, Shane was tempted to throw the glass across the whole local and preach the words of his soul. How he felt because of the booze. How the will feel because of the booze. How it could ruin their life as hard as it ruined his. How one drink led to another to another to another to another to another to another to anot-

Warm chocolate eyes blinked at him right before his face. Shane relaxed his grip on the glass. He pushed it towards Gus, dropped some coins on the counter and left. He ignored the looks given by the townfolks and let himself fall into the fresh breeze outside. He stood in front of the darkness that loomed over the town at the edge of the forest. Without any more thought, he let himself be swallowed by it. It wasn't long before his eyes got used to the lack of the warm radiation of laps lit up around the town. The sky was truely one of the main reasons why Shane didn't get with his plans. Constelations of unwandered paths streched right above his small and meaningless life. Glittering and saying that maybe it was worth being there even if just to marvel at their beauty for a fleeting moment.

Shane wandered around the forest, his gaze lost in the stars, mind still by the fond eyes it couldn't bare to leave behind. He didn't know how long he was out there untill he saw the edge of the cliffs. Instead of heading acrossthe grass, Shane followed the overgrown path. It led to a narrow stairs that led to the large pipe that finished (or started?) the maze of sewer canals spread under the town. Drunk Shane liked to joked that it was an underground mirror reflecting the spiralls and labirynths made by stars. As if an artist scribbled down the unseen paths between stars and the pages landed on the desk of a rough engineer who tried and failed to recreate their grace.

As Shane marveled upon the genius of the cosmic blueprint, a quiet song was to be heard. He looked around, trying to find its source. After seeing nobody at the forest's clearing and no soul on the beach below, Shane was sure that it was coming from inside the pipe. His body tensed up, ready to initiate a fight or flight revalation at whatever might come from the sewer. The thing is, Shane would be nothing wothout his brain. And his brain, soothed by the strange melody, didn't want to response accordingly. So he sat at the top of the stairs, entranced by how sweet the sounds were. He was almost lulled to sleep by it when he started to sway to the rythm lightly. He got startled when he heart someone sing along the tune. What shocked him more was the fact that the voice was coming from his mouth. The words to the song came to him with a blink of an eye. Shane let himself be taken by the melody's current. And with a small smile on his lips, he sang.

"Harvey, nobody knows what I see."

[iamfruitie]

I'd like to thank @madpatsimp for inspiring and encouraging me to write this lil thing Here's a sleep-deprived Mad flirting with Mare because he thinks he's dreaming, Mare's having a lil gay panic and Phantom being...himself about it -----------------

Mad had this bad habit of getting involved in a project and forgetting about basic necessities until the work got done. Sleep was the first thing to go, endless hours of work, staring at a screen and using every part of his brain until it would eventually slow down to almost a halt and turn him into a dizzy mess. A sleep-deprived Mad was an…interesting Mad since his thoughts made conclusions a rested Mad would never do. 

And right now, those thoughts convinced him he was lucid dreaming. 

Everything felt strange, foggy, like a dream, when in reality, the poor man needed some sleep that lasted more than a five-minute cat nap. 

“The realistic ones are always the weirdest,” Mad said as he looked around his workroom. He’s had dreams like this before, putting him in this room but with a twist. The twist hadn’t been found yet, but he was waiting for something to happen. 

“Mad? Are you still in here?” Mare asked as he came into the room. He was dressed in his sleepwear, which was just a pair of comfortable pajama bottoms. 

There it was. There was the twist. 

This was one of those dreams.

He could tell because Mare seem to look even more attractive than usual. The pants were on his hips lower, and everything just looked so much…nicer.

“Mare~” Mad sang with a giggle. 

He always felt so guilty after waking up from one of these dreams. He shouldn’t think of his friend this way but at the moment, he didn’t care. He couldn’t control his dreams, he didn’t even know he knew half of the things that would happen in these dreams…he’s been around Phantom and his mouth too much. 

“I think someone needs to go to bed.” Mare sighed. 

“You are so nice, Mare,” Mad said as Mare started walking over to him. 

“I know.” Mare chuckled. 

“You’re so nice and smart and funny and talented.” Mad started rambling, and Mare turned his chair so he was facing him. 

“Thank you.”

“And you’re so hot.” Mad’s comment got Mare to freeze and his eyes to go wide in shock. “I really like your arms. They’re so colorful and muscular.” Mad swayed forward and touched Mare’s arms, running his hands along them. 

“They’re-uh-what?” Mare was not expecting this at all. Where in the world was this coming from?

“They’re nothing compared to your chest and…” Mad’s eyes went to Mare’s chest and down to his stomach, hands moving to feel the parts he looked at. “I wish I was this confident while awake. My brain always gets in the way.” 

“While awake?” Mare was paralyzed as he stared down at Mad’s hands. 

“Yeah. Conscious me gets too scared and worried and flustered about anything that involves you. My face should be permanently red with how much I blush at seeing just the smallest bit of your skin. Even now, I’m…I’m still blushing at this.” Mad chuckled at himself, and his cheeks were indeed pink with a flush. “You’re just so…good with everything. I like talking with you and hanging out with you…I just like you in general, and I could never say any of this to the real you.” 

“Let’s…let’s get you to bed.” Mare swallowed before scooping Mad out of his chair. 

“Okay.” Mad leaned against Mare. Mare could tell he was definitely out of it since Mad would always complain about being carried or told to go to bed. 

After putting Mad in his bed, tucking him in, and turning out the light, Mare went to the kitchen where Phantom was munching on a late-night snack. 

“You look like you saw a ghost,” Phantom commented when his twin seemed to be in a daze. 

“Mad thought he was dreaming. And he confessed that he likes me.” Mare said. 

“Fucking, finally!” Phantom nearly shouted. “It was getting so annoying watching you two pin over each other so much.” 

“We weren’t-we aren’t-” Mare stammered out a weak protest. 

“Oh, please! Go fuck your nerd and save me from the agony that is experiencing you two staring at each other’s asses while doing nothing about it.” Phantom went back to his snack. 

“I’m not going to fuck him.” Mare said. 

“He is a little out of it right now, fuck him in the morning after he’s slept. A good railing is a great way to start the day.” Phantom did a little shimmy. 

“Could you not-” 

“Tell me I’m wrong, and you don’t want to fuck that man brainless. I dare you to lie to me.” Phantom laughed when Mare just groaned and walked away from him. “You know I’m not wrong!”  

“Fuck off!” Mare called.

“Save that for Mad!” Phantom called back, and his laugh got louder when Mare only cursed at him more before they got cut off by the sound of a door closing. 

[mystic-writings]

early appearances | evan buckley

PAIRING — evan 'buck' buckley x fem!reader

SUMMARY — you go into labor during the tsunami without buck, and there are no available ambulances to take you to the hospital

WARNINGS — depictions of labor, pain, mentions of the tsunami, fluff

WORD COUNT — 3,587

NOTE — y’all i am a true clown. i started writing this immediately after i watched the tsunami episodes for the first time 🤡 enjoy my clownery. also i finished this a long time ago and idk why but i just never posted it, so here it is! i'm gonna be relying heavily on reposts for now bc i need to focus on my narnia series fhfjfhfjf

masterlist | navigation

Not being able to work was really tough for Buck, you knew that. But you knew that you being there helped him, even if it was just a little bit. As much as you wanted Buck to get up and out of the house, today you planned on claiming him for a resting day. Snacks, movies, and cuddling before you had to really start making plans for the upcoming two weeks, while your due date inched closer and closer.

What you weren’t expecting was to wake up with Eddie yanking the comforter from yours and Buck’s bodies. The air in the apartment was colder than under the blanket, and instinctively, you backed further into Buck’s chest for warmth, groaning as your baby kicked you awake. Buck groaned at the cold, before realizing that there was someone else in the apartment.

Sitting up, Buck removed his arm from under your head as he looked at Eddie. “What the hell, man?”

“Get up,” Eddie said as you fully woke up, feeling the need to pee. “Good to see you, Y/n,”

“Not now, Eddie.” You said, passing him with a glare and heading to the bathroom. “Baby Buckley is getting on my nerves,”

Eddie whistled and followed Buck down the stairs, talking about how he needed to get out some time soon. When you finished up in the bathroom, you waddled your way downstairs and heard Christopher’s voice saying hi to Buck. Excited, you smiled and greeted your boyfriend at the stairs, who was confused about Christopher being with Eddie.

“Hi Y/n!” Christopher smiled.

“Hey, buddy!” You smiled back, an infectious feeling of happiness that only came when you spent time with Christopher bringing your morning energy up. You followed Eddie and Buck into the living room as Buck asked what Christopher was doing here.

“He’s spending time with his Buck today!” Eddie sang, earning a raised eyebrow from you. “Of course, we can’t forget about the lovely Y/n L/n, now can we Christopher?”

“No,” the little boy laughed and shook his head, putting a smile on your face. You moved over to Christopher as he and Eddie explained that Carla was on vacation and Eddie was needed at work.

“You guys can take him out, have some fun.” Eddie suggested, and you sucked in some air.

“No can do on my part, Eddie.” You sighed, resting your hands on your belly. “I don’t go anywhere unless it’s grocery shopping at the store down the road, now. Buck won’t let me go any further than that.”

Eddie laughed and said, “Well, Buck, I guess it’s just you and Christopher then.”

The father and son said their goodbyes and Buck asked Christopher what he liked to do for fun, making you laugh. “Christopher, have you had breakfast yet? I can make us some pancakes if you want,”

“Thank you, Y/n,” he smiled at you and you smiled back, motioning Buck over to you so he could help you off the couch.

Making pancakes was fun, listening to Buck slowly get more comfortable with being around Christopher and coming to the conclusion that they would be going to the pier before heading out to see a movie. They asked you for input on every choice they made, and you kept telling them that as long as they kept you updated on where they were and what they were doing, you didn’t care.

Christopher ate three pancakes and you had your usual three, while Buck ate the two that you made for him. Once Buck was dressed and ready, they were heading out the door. Before they left, Buck placed a kiss on your lips and muttered a small, “I love you,” before bending slightly to press his lips to your belly, repeating the same words to your unborn baby.

Christopher, seeing Buck’s actions, also pressed a small, gentle kiss to your belly. The sight made your eyes swell with tears, and you sniffed to keep them at bay. Slowly, you smiled at the boy and knelt onto one knee, taking Christopher’s hands in yours. “You have fun with Uncle Buck at the pier today, okay? Maybe try and win one of those little stuffed bears for Baby Buckley, hm?”

The young boy smiled and nodded, promising that he would win a toy for the baby. You pulled him in for a hug and got Buck to help you stand back up when you separated. Wishing the boys a fun day, you closed the door and sighed, pressing a hand to your belly as a large, dull pain made an appearance.

After spending 20 minutes getting dressed, you called your friend, Carrie, asking her if she had a day off and wanted to stop by the apartment and come spend the day with you, since Buck left and you didn’t like being alone in the apartment very often. She arrived within 15 minutes, not living very far from you, carrying a bag of snacks with her.

You spent a good portion of the afternoon watching TV with her and checking up on Buck and Chris, who were still at the pier 15 minutes ago, when the sitcom you were watching was cut off as an emergency broadcast began to play. Just as the emergency broadcast kicked in, you felt your fourth sharp pain of the day — the other two having hit you during the show.

A tsunami had hit the Santa Monica pier and officials were urging people to go further inland or reach high ground. A wave of fear as big as the tsunami struck your heart, praying that Buck and Chris were okay. That they had left the pier after Buck sent the last message and that they were laughing at corny jokes in a kids movie and not possibly dead on the flooded streets of LA.

Carrie’s hand grasped yours and that was when the levee broke, your tears rushing out like waterfalls. You prayed that Buck had enough sense and enough training to get him and Christopher to safety, to make it back home to you and your baby in one piece. The day had taken a wicked turn, and you just hoped that things would be okay before the day was done.

You spent hours pacing the lower level of the apartment, calling Buck’s number only to get no response. With every minute and no response, your worry grew. You knew the stress wasn’t any good for the baby, and Carrie even tried to get you to sit down and breathe, but there was no room for you to breathe anymore. The love of your life and your friend’s kid could be dead, there was no room for anything but worry and stress.

Being so close to your due date, pacing and walking was hard to maintain for long periods of time. Carrie just opted for handing you a bottle of water and at least forcing you to take breaks, making sure you were well hydrated and didn’t wear a hole in the floor. The sun was beginning to set in the large windows, and seeing it calmed you momentarily.

You called Chimney, Hen, and Bobby, but you were unable to get a hold of anyone. It didn’t surprise you — they were dealing with a natural disaster. But you felt the need to warn them that Buck and Chris were at the pier, that they had faced the brunt of the tsunami. It didn’t help that the pains you had been feeling throughout the day were increasing in strength and intensity, along with getting closer together.

As you continued to pace, worried, the lights in your apartment flickered. Scared, you stopped and rested a hand on your belly. They flickered again as your most intense contraction hit you, making you groan in pain and lean forward a little. Instantly, Carrie was at your side, hands on your biceps as the lights continued flickering. “Y/n? Y/n, what’s wrong? Are-are you okay?”

“I think I’m-” As soon as you started to speak, a gush of water rushed down your legs and pooled at your feet, at the same time that the power went out in your apartment. “Oh, God, I think I’m in labor!”

Carrie’s eyes widened in panic as you keeled over again, this time gripping onto Carrie’s arms for support as another contraction came. This wasn’t supposed to happen now, especially not during a tsunami and when the father of your baby was possibly dead. Groaning in pain, you said, “Care, I need you to call 911 right now and demand that you talk to Maddie,”

Nodding, Carrie helped you over to the couch before pulling out her phone to call 911. You asked her to put it on speaker and she complied, and soon you heard a man coming through as he said, “911, what’s your emergency?”

“I need you to connect me to Maddie Kendall, NOW.” You demanded, huffing through the pain of another contraction. They were coming faster and they were more painful, which worried you. “She-she’s a f-friend and I need to talk to her, now! Tell her that Y/n L/n wants to talk to her!”

You heard a beep and soon Maddie’s voice came through the speaker, worried. “Y/n? Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

“Maddie, we have a problem,” you said. “Buck he- he went out earlier and he’s not home and we lost power and I’m- oh, God, Maddie, I’m in labor!”

“Y/n, I- We can’t get any ambulances to you, there aren’t any left.” Maddie’s voice was disappointed and worried before she said, “But that doesn’t matter. Do you have someone with you or are you alone?”

“I-I’m here with her,” Carrie said, coming to sit beside you. “My name is Carrie.”

“Okay Carrie, I need you to get some hot water if you can and towels. Y/n, you need to lie on your back on the ground, or on a bed. Support yourself with pillows and make sure you’re comfortable. Carrie, wash your hands and make sure they’re clean. Do not start pushing until your contractions are less than two minutes apart.” She insisted.

Nodding, you stayed on the phone with Maddie while Carrie helped you upstairs and onto the bed after stripping it of its comforter. Carrie handed the phone to you while she grabbed everything she needed. Scared, you whimpered and said, “Maddie, I’m scared.”

“It’s gonna be okay, Y/n, you can do this. Home births happen like this all the time.”

“No, it’s not that, Maddie, it’s-” You whimpered again, trying to push through another contraction. “I don’t know where Buck is, Maddie. H-he could be dead, or dying, and my kid might never get to- meet him!”

The contraction washed over you, encompassing you in pain as Carrie arrived. Maddie told you, “It’s okay, Y/n. Buck is going to be fine, and he’s gonna come home to you and your child just fine.”

“Carrie’s here, now, Maddie.” You told her, fighting back tears of pain. “I-I feel like I need to push, can-can I push?”

“Wait for the next contraction, Y/n, and if it’s in less than two minutes, you can push.” And like magic, as soon as Maddie said the words, another contraction rolled over you. On instinct, you began to push, the pain becoming blinding and the world going white.

You heaved your breaths when it was over, only to push once again nearly a minute later. As you did so, you threw your head back in pain, wishing that Buck were here. That he was okay and that you were in a hospital, safe and with people who did this professionally were able to help you. Tears made their way out of your eyes, but not just because of the pain. Because Buck wasn’t here to witness this, to help you through it.

“C’mon, Y/n, one more push!” Carrie urged, and you nodded, breathless. Once you felt the urge again, you pushed like hell. And then, in an instant, the pain was gone and a cry pierced through the air. You tilted your head forward and opened your eyes as Carrie lifted your baby up for you to see. “It’s a girl.”

Laughing in relief, you watched Carrie wrap your baby up in a soft, white towel and hand her over to you. Your baby was finally here, and she was perfect. Stroking your daughter’s cheek, you cried as you cooed, “Hi, baby Buckley,”

Carrie took the phone from beside you as you held your daughter for the first time, quieting her cries and allowing her to rest. Maddie’s voice came through the speaker as she said, “I’m going to try and get in contact with the 118 and see if they can get Y/n and the baby to a hospital or if they’ve seen Buck at all. I’ll keep you updated.”

The tears, both happy and worried, wouldn’t stop streaming down your face. Your baby was here, in your arms, and a girl. Buck said he wanted it to be a girl, even though you insisted that you wait until they were born to find out. You kept your eyes on your baby and despite how sore you were, you made sure to sit up and cradle your baby as close to you as possible.

Carrie came to your side and congratulated you, admiring the baby in your arms. You looked to your friend with a smile, thanking her for being there with you. Your daughter cooed in your arms and you looked to her, seeing her eyes opening for the first time. Instantly, fresh tears washed over you as you realized she had the same, brilliant blue eyes as Buck. You stroked her cheek again and smiled, undeniably enamored with your daughter.

You and Carrie waited for Maddie to call, which came almost 20 minutes after she hung up the first time. “Hey Y/n, how’s baby Buckley?”

“We’re okay. She’s healthy and sleeping right now.” You told your friend.

“Well, I have good news.” Maddie said. “Buck called me after you hung up, and he’s okay. He and Christopher are fine, and he’s on his way back to you with the 118 and they’re gonna take you to the closest available hospital, okay?”

You held back a relieved sob as you retained the information that Buck was alive. “Okay. Thank you, Maddie. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

She told you it wasn’t a problem and you had Carrie hang up for you. Now all you had to do was wait in anticipation for Buck to make his way home to you.

You couldn’t take your eyes off your daughter. There was no way anyone would take their eyes off as cute a baby as yours. Not until the door downstairs burst open. “Y/n?!”

“Buck, we’re up here!”

Buck’s feet thundered up the stairs, stopping in his tracks as soon as he spotted you. He was dirty and covered in blood, looking like he went through hell. A smile ghosted his face and he came to your side instantly, his arm coming around you as he sat on the bed and the other hand coming to the top of his daughter’s head.

“Did you- did you name them?”

“No, I thought we could name our daughter together.” You smiled. Buck’s eyes lit up as they met with yours.

“We have a daughter.” He breathed, his smile widening. Without warning, Buck gently pressed his lips to yours in a loving kiss. The baby wriggled around in your arms and fussed, causing Buck to break the kiss. He leaned closer to your daughter, whispering. “I see you, too, darling. I love you,”

Your heart swelled as Buck pressed a gentle and hesitant kiss to his daughter’s forehead. Just as he pulled away, Hen and Chimney came up the stairs with a backboard, ready to transport you and your daughter. They smiled and congratulated you on the little girl, watching as you passed her to Buck, who hesitantly took her into his arms and made sure to support her neck, cooing at her and keeping his eyes on her with pure adoration.

They loaded you onto the backboard to get you down the stairs, then onto the gurney, keeping it in the sitting position since there was no need for the backboard after that. Buck followed closely, meeting with Bobby at the entrance to the apartment complex. The Captain congratulated him on his daughter as well, telling him that the rest of the team would be following behind soon.

He loaded himself into the ambulance with you, and you smiled and talked with your boyfriend as he admired your daughter. The day had been a mess, crazy and chaotic, but you made it through. Your family always did. There was nothing that the 118 couldn’t handle, and today was proof. Everything was messy and difficult but they still came through together, and with another family member to look after.

By the time you got to the hospital, both you and the baby having gone through multiple exams to make sure you were both okay, you sat in a private room in the maternity ward with your daughter in your arms and Buck laying in the bed with you, arm around your shoulders and hand resting on the baby’s forehead, the both of you talking quietly with one another when the 118 came in.

“Hey, y’all,” Hen smiled, walking in quietly.

“How’s the baby?” Bobby asked, following in after Chimney and Maddie. Eddie and Christopher were the last ones in as you looked down at your daughter.

“Everyone,” You said, shifting to present your wide-eyed daughter to the team. “Welcome the newest member of the 118, Olivia Madison Buckley.”

Maddie’s hands went to her mouth in shock, tears building in her eyes as she found out that her niece was her namesake. “We wouldn’t be here without you, Maddie. We wanted to do something that showed you how grateful we are for that.”

She smiled and thanked the both of you profusely. She came closer, getting a good look at her niece. “She has your eyes, Buck,”

Chimney joked, “As long as she takes after her mother and not her father with her personality, I think we’ll all be fine.”

Hen snorted and said, “Yeah, the last thing we need is another Buck running around.”

Looking offended, Buck said, “That’s so mean! I happen to be a damned good firefighter and boyfriend, thank you very much.”

“We know, Buck.” You smiled.

As the team continued to converse, Christopher walked up to the spot where Maddie just was. You looked down at him and said, “Hey, Christopher. I heard you and Buck had an interesting day.”

“We did.” He smiled. “It was crazy, and scary, but Buck saved me and he saved a lot of other people, too.”

“Really? Wow, that sounds so cool,” you smiled at the boy. “Do you wanna hold Olivia?”

Eagerly, the boy nodded and you made sure to get Eddie’s attention. He pulled a chair over to the bed and sat his son in it before taking the baby from your arms and handing it to him, making sure that Christopher was supporting the baby properly. You smiled at the man and nodded to him in understanding as Christopher asked, “Dad, was I ever this small?”

“Yeah, buddy, you were this small once,” Eddie told his son and you watched as the little boy looked back at Olivia, smiling and talking to the baby about his Legos and drawings and all the things he wanted to do with her.

By the time Christopher was talking about riding in the firetruck, Eddie stepped in and said, “Buddy, I don’t think Olivia’s gonna be old enough to do that stuff for a little while,”

The boy looked upset before lighting up again saying, “That’s okay!”

You laughed and watched Christopher and Eddie, feeling Buck placed his hand lovingly on your shoulder. You turned as best you could, having to move your body to get a good look at the man, who placed a kiss on your temple and said, “I’m so proud of you.”

“I gave birth, hon.”

“Yeah but it’s not just that. You gave birth without power, in an apartment, and during a natural disaster.” Buck told you. “Not everyone can do that and survive. So, I’m proud of you.”

“I’m proud of us, Buck.” You said. “You were in the danger zone for so long and I was terrified that neither of you wouldn’t make it home, but you did. You got Christopher back to his father and you came back to me. A lot of people didn’t make it out of there with everyone they love still in one piece.”

Nodding, Buck blinked his tears away and pressed a kiss to your temple. As you looked around the room, at the people smiling and laughing and talking with one another, if you had been someone looking in from the outside, you never would’ve thought that they had spent all day saving people in a natural disaster.

And as you looked around at the people you’ve come to call family, you realized that no matter what, your daughter would always be surrounded by people that would love her, care for her, and surround her with happiness all her life.

Permanent taglist: @simonsbluee @outer-banks-bitches @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @mazerunnerrose @theboldandthebootyful @miraclesoflove @mrsweasley06

Evan Buckley taglist: @msmarvelsmain

taglist form is in my navigation!

[cipheress-to-k-pop]

Hello!! sorry to bother you could write a ben 10 x reader? (the reader is kidnapped by vilgax and ben has to save her, after that ben and the reader has an argument) please, i love your fics!!

Storm Before The Calm

Pairing: Pre-Established; Ben Tennyson x Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3.4k words

A/N: I changed up the request a bit (I figured it shouldn't matter which villain was used here) also I was planning to have this as sort of a damsel in distress situation but after having a chat with some boys pigs I decided a self indulgant badass reader was right up my alley

Additional A/N: I have a math exam on Thursday and I cannot focus for the life of me. So, I decided to finish up one of my drafts. Now hopefully I'll be able to work like a robot for the next week, after satisfying my creative side. Also, this fic was super self indulgant.

"I trust Ben.” You did. With your entire being.

Kevin chuckled from beside you, “Yeah, try saying that without cracking the fillings in your teeth and maybe we’ll believe you.”

His words caused you to relax, only then realizing how hard your jaw was clenched in fury. Gwen sighed in disappointment and for a second you wanted to defend her cousin and your boyfriend. Until you realized that he deserved every bit of unbridled anger coming to him.

“I trust him. Doesn’t mean I’m not mad at him.”

Your hands were balled into tight fists and even though you wanted to take your eyes off the television screen and take a warm bath, you also for some reason couldn’t stop yourself from watching it.

Like you were afraid something would happen when your eyes were off the screen for even a second. Maybe you didn’t trust him.

But honestly how could you, you were currently watching your boyfriend relax in a hot tub with Jennifer Nocturne and the sight was enough to send bile up your throat.

Ben wasn’t returning any of her advances, but he wasn’t stopping her either. And the thought made you sick to your stomach. You knew Ben was faithful and you knew he would never cheat on you but watching how the Hollywood starlet continued to hang off him sent waves of jealousy through you.

Not to mention anger at the fact that he wasn’t doing anything to stop her. When he got back, you were going to wring his neck.

Trusting him was getting harder with Gwen constantly insisting that you dump him.

Honestly, you wondered how that girl even kept a relationship.

When Ben eventually came home, all the entertainment channels were still talking about the two of them and the well-known picture of Jennifer Nocturne kissing him was circulating about. Each time you looked at that image, you wanted to shoot an arrow at the TV.

As time went by, your anger slowly fizzled out. You were unable to maintain your rage at Ben, quickly getting a headache and feeling tired of trying to maintain negative emotions. Even then, you couldn't push down the uneasy feeling in your heart that seized your stomach.

You kept expecting a text message from Ben, an apology call but as the night proceeded you understood that he was having way too much fun with another woman to even think about how you must be feeling.

The thought of that made you want to go back home and crawl underneath the covers, hiding away from the rest of the world.

But Gwen was persistent and any time you tried to wiggle away from the pair of them and go home, she insisted that you stay and make sure Ben knew how upset he made you tonight.

You were more than happy to give your boyfriend the cold shoulder until he apologized rather than have to confront him. That was just how your relationship with Ben worked. Neither of you were the type to lose your tempers and yell and scream at each other.

Although you were worried what would come out of this. Would you be able to peacefully discuss your feelings and then come to some sort of conclusion civilly? Seems too good to be true honestly.

Even then you waited until Ben came home, listening to Gwen and Kevin about how you should rip the band aid off and get everything off your chest rather than ignore him for a couple of days until the two of you got bored.

Usually, the latter would work but you had an inkling that it wouldn't be the solution for this particular argument because if you didn't communicate your emotions then he would never know how you felt about it.

So, even though your stomach filled with anxiety and sadness as the hours passed, you still didn't leave, determined to talk to him about it.

Your jaw was clenched tight when he finally did come back home, utterly relaxed and even happy like he wasn't just curled up against some Hollywood starlet while his girlfriend was watching it on E!

"I'm really upset with you." You ground out when Kevin and Gwen left, not knowing how else to start the conversation.

"What for?"

You didn't reply, picking up the remote and flicking to a gossip channel, then a news channel, then an interview show and all of them had the picture of Ben Tennyson and Jennifer Nocturne locking lips.

Ben winced, "She kissed me! I didn't even return it."

You still refused to look at you, crossing your arms aggressively, "Uh huh and what was today all about?"

"It's just publicity. Jennifer thinks that it'll help with my career."

You scoffed, "What career?"

Ben's back tensed up and he turned to give you a stiff expression, "I'm a superhero. I've saved the universe a thousand times and now that I'm finally getting recognition for it, you want to be petty?"

"Petty? You think I'm being petty? Well forgive me for getting upset after watching my boyfriend curl up to some other woman in a hot tub for the last five hours!" You bit, standing up from the couch.

"It wasn't like that! Stop blowing everything out of proportion!"

"No, you stop pretending like this isn't a big deal! Ever since your secret got out you've been acting like an ass and since meeting that blonde rat it's only gone through your head more!" You shouted, clenching your hands at your sides. How could he not see your side of this?

"Well shouldn't I get to enjoy my life once in a while?! I'm the one saving the planet constantly! I'm the one with constant death threats and near death experiences every other week! Shouldn't I get some attention for it?! God knows I don't get any from you!" He yelled back and you grit your teeth.

"Don't forget that while you were out there risking your life, we were right beside you!"

"Oh, so that's what it is, you're jealous that everyone thinks of you as the sidekick!"

"That is so NOT what this is about!"

"Oh really? Because it sounds like you're jealous because you're not getting attention by mooching off of me!"

Your eyes widened in shock. Mooching? Did he seriously think that you risked your life alongside him every day to help other people and more importantly, keep him safe, for attention?

Your body trembled, outraged and you didn't say another word, leaving his house in a rush and slamming the door behind you.

You needed something to hit.

***

Your body pumped with adrenaline and anger, muscles itching to be used as you sauntered through the old and run-down factory with reckless abandon. You briefly wondered whether you should've told Gwen or Kevin you were going there but then decided against it, pride and anger too great.

Any doubts or hesitation you had disappeared when you saw Vulkanus, standing tall and broad in his metal suit. And as per usual, he had his herd of minions doing his physical labour.

"If it isn't the Plumber's sweetheart." He drawled once he noticed you. You didn't bother with the stealth, leaving the door wide open behind you and letting the sunlight seep in. If he knew what was good for him, then this would be over quick.

"Hello Vulkanus." You greeted politely and he rolled his eyes. Of all people, he knew just how misleading your innocence was.

"Where's the cavalry?"

"Just me today." You answered and for a second you were confused by your own confidence. Maybe you were taking this just a little too easy. Oh well, that was another thing you could blame your pig-headed boyfriend for.

"Well then, this is going to be easier than I thought. Hope you said goodbye to your boyfriend, sweetheart." He rasped out and the corner of your mouth twitched into a smirk. Without another word, you raised your arms, feeling the familiar heat of fire in the palm of your hand before chucking it at him.

Just as you knew he would, he sent his minions towards you first. They were embarrassingly unskilled but the problem came in numbers. They swarmed around you like ants and you felt yourself getting irritated at the clicking sound they were making.

Unfortunately for Vulkanus his make-shift factory was right beside a dam which gave you an endless supply of the elements to work with.

Summoning all the water you could manoeuvre, you pulled it into the factory, shattering the windows along with it and flooding the room. It only took a few flicks of your wrist to create a whirlpool in the centre, knocking all the workers off their feet.

You stiffened your hands, curling in your fingers and the temperature dropped, the water solidifying with each second until all of them were encased in ice. Another flick of the wrist had the path clearing between you and Vulkanus, who was still warm.

"You-You're sparing me?" He asked, confused and a dry laugh left you.

"Not at all," You sang, eyes turning dark, "I'm giving you special treatment."

Vulkanus bounded towards you, holding his mallet high and you swiftly dodged, using water on the floor to slide quickly. He crashed into the engine of one of his machines, the fuel tank exploding and spewing fowl smelling petrol onto the floor.

It floated above the level of water and began surrounding both of you.

He once again came at you, letting out a roar and you used the water to sink through the crevices of his suit, freezing it from within and you heard the satisfying sound of his suit cracking.

Just a little more strength and forcing a gust of air through the cracks had it falling apart and his frail body fell out of its metal encasing.

"You'll pay for this! You big bully!"

"Thanks for the fun time today, Vulkanus." You smiled, strutting to the door just as confidently as you came in. Even though your body was burning from the workout and you could barely breathe, you still couldn't get over the high.

Before leaving the building, you turned around to see him still glaring at you from his place on the floor.

"Oh, I should probably free your minions, right?" You commented, eyes flickering between the ones still encased in ice and the floor that was still flooded with water and petrol.

You let out a fake sigh, "I guess I'll be nice today," You winked at Vulkanus, "Thanks for the playdate, sweetheart."

His eyes widened when you blew a kiss to him, watching in fear as you ignited a flare in your palm and blew it towards him before turning around and using the wind to slam the doors behind you. When you were just a few feet away you heard the place blow apart.

Slowly, the adrenaline began melting and the blood rushing through your ears was much more audible. You were panting, tired from the exercise and the thought of calling Kevin to come and pick you up. Or maybe even Ben. You were calm enough now to have a conversation with him.

When you pulled your phone out of your pocket you felt a hand on your shoulder and spun around to meet eyes with Captain Nemesis. For a brief second you were wondering if he was here to invite you to some inane party or even to tell you that Ben was at one.

Although you hardly looked the part, you were sweating and your face was probably red and blotchy.

"Can I help you?" You asked, taking a step back, he was a little too close to you and the look in his eye freaked you out.

"As a matter of fact, you can." He said, "You see I'm arranging a little stunt for Ben Tennyson. An opportunity if you will, to showcase some of his heroism."

You rolled your eyes, turning away from him. The last thing you wanted to do was feed Ben's ego at the moment.

"With all due respect, I don't really think I'm up for a damsel in distress routine right now, Captain, I'd rather just get home. And If you take another step towards me, I'll kick you where the sun doesn't shine." You snapped and he backed off obediently, raising his hands in a form of surrender.

"That's too bad." He mused and you turned away from him, intent on walking back home or even calling a cab. Anything to get away from this creep faster.

"Too bad you don't really have a choice."

You felt his hand on your bare shoulder again but before you could even react you felt volts of electricity rush through you. You gasped painfully, feeling fire through your veins before everything started to hurt.

White burned in your vision and colours started to blur together as your eyes filled with tears. Your body crumbled, falling forward and Captain Nemesis caught you.

Right before your consciousness slipped away you heard him say something.

"For your sake, you better hope that Ben Tennyson is as great as those gossip channels make him out to be."

***

When you felt yourself regaining consciousness, you could feel your weight pulling down and also couldn't feel the ground. This had your eyes snapping open, regardless of how dizzy you were and how many dots were in your vision.

You hazily made out the venue, Nemesis Tower, before recognize the blonde woman tied up beside you. It didn't take long before you realized she was tied to the other end of the rope, suspended through mid-air just like you.

This was no doubt going to be some sort of deathly choice.

You noticed when Ben came in, turning into Ultimate Humangasaur. He looked furious, like you've never seen him before and you knew it was because Ben was certain he'd teach him a lesson today.

"Where's (Y/N)." He all but growled and your heart soared. You didn't realize how much you missed him until now, everything from before was forgotten.

"Right up there. And so is Jennifer." He replied, still smug despite the way Ben was pining him to the ground by his throat. Ben followed his gaze to meet your eyes and you took a deep breathe, bracing yourself.

A selfish part of you wanted to stay and see what Ben would do, would he save you even though Jennifer was a civilian and world famous?

Even then you figured that you shouldn't risk anyone's life for petty jealousy, so you took a deep breath, blowing it out through your mouth and watching as a gust of wind blew past, the pressure making you swing.

You swung a few feet back, letting your body fall a little before blowing again. Once you gained enough momentum, you looked up to the rope tying the two of you together and spitting fire at it, falling at an angle. You briefly heard Jennifer scream and revelled in her karma for a hot second.

On your way down, you quickly burnt off the rest of the ropes, bringing a pool of water to crystallize into a makeshift slide as you slide on your knees across the floor, just in time to catch Jennifer in your arms.

Your knees stung as they scraped across the concrete and the wind was knocked out of you when the woman fell into your form.

She gasped and her eyes that was screwed shut gently fluttered open. Up close you could understand why everyone was in love with her. Even then you couldn't spare her any concern.

You quickly pushed her out of your arms, noticing Gwen and Kevin staring at you in awe when you stood up. You cracked your knuckles, making your way over to the older man with a scowl.

"For your sake, you better hope that I'm just as weak as you think I am. Spoiler alert, I'm not."

Ben spared a small smile at you but you couldn't feel anything aside from hot fury. You felt water surge beneath your fingers and threw it at him, pulling up a wall of earth to block his blasts.

Your boyfriend immediately began fighting alongside you and your bodies fell into a familiar rhythm. Even though there was a crazed narcissist trying to kill you, you felt safe beside Ben.

It wasn't long before the four of you managed to overpower him, rendering his armour useless until he was defeated, lying pathetically on the ground.

You walked up to him and your lips twisted into an unimpressed frown when you noticed the way he had the audacity to glare at you. Without a second word, you raised your leg and kicked him right between the legs.

"I always keep my promises, Captain."

Kevin began laughing behind you and Ben cringed.

Finally, when you turned to meet Ben, now de-transformed, all the fight left your body and you relaxed. He looked apologetic and you let him approach you.

His arms wrapped around your waist and you leaned into him, breathing the familiar scent of his deodorant and snaking your arms under his jacket to fist his T-shirt.

He sighed into your hair, arms tightening around your body, "I'm sorry. For being an ass to you and saying all those horrible things, I was being an idiot and you deserve an apology."

You didn't move, not pulling away from the way your forehead was pressed against the length of his neck, "Thank you for coming to save me."

"Didn't look like you needed much help." He chuckled and you felt happy hearing the pride in his voice.

"I missed you." You murmured, holding him a little tighter and he turned his head to kiss your forehead gently. And just like that, everything was right in the world. Just as long as you were in each other's arms.

"I love you."

You heard the click of a camera and your head snapped up to see a herd of cameramen and reporters along with a couple of police cars. Ben laughed nervously beside you, "I guess we won't have to worry about another actress coming between us."

You gave him an unimpressed frown and he just smiled, leaning to peck your lips and you heard the crowd of reporters’ gasp and heard the shutters of cameras before they began shouting questions at you.

You pulled away from him when you saw Jennifer Nocturne make her way towards you. You figured she wanted to snuggle up to Ben now that the cameras were filming.

Instead, she walked right up to you, hugging you tightly and your arms flailed pathetically beside her, unsure of what to do, "You saved my life! I don't know how to thank you!"

She pulled away for just a second before pressing a kiss to your lips. Your eyes widened in alarm and the shutters began once again and flashes practically blinded you.

"Huh, so that's what that feels like." Ben murmured when she pulled away from you. Kevin was smirking beside him, satisfied that he got a taste of his own medicine and Gwen was just in shock.

Ben felt his stomach turn at the sight of Jennifer’s lipstick on your mouth and you were unsure whether you should feel repulsed or cocky.

But as you wiped the pigment off your lips and curled back into Ben's side you couldn't feel anything other than your burning muscles and your drooping eyelids.

You squinted because of the bright lights, feeling a headache grow as the exhaustion from before crept up on you again. After 2 fights and a kidnapping today, there was nothing more you wanted than a nap.

"Wanna go home?" Your ever observant boyfriend asked just as the nausea started to kick in. You nodded and he guided you away from the reporters to his car.

He gently placed you into the front seat, shielding your head as you got in to prevent you from hitting it against the hood before buckling your seatbelt, watching carefully as you drifted into a sound sleep.

Ben heard everyone behind him swoon as he lovingly placed a kiss to your knuckles and then climbed into the seat beside you, sparing you one last warm glance before starting the car and driving away.

He'd definitely notice the shy smile on your face when you saw that Ben kissing you was on the front page of a magazine.

And you'd notice the jealous scowl he'd have when he saw that Jennifer kissing you was on the front page of another.

[wrenhyperfixates]

Eyes Closed

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: Loki escapes to his Midgardian’s house to decompress when the stress and pressure becomes too much. Spending time with you is just the thing he needs. Warnings: very short; excessive fluff A/N: Inspired by the song Eyes Closed by Bearings. Hope you all enjoy! :)

Permanent Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedgiant @lunarmoon8 @twhiddlestonsstuff @lokistan @lowkeyorlokificrecs @gaitwae @whatafuckingdumbass @castiels-majestic-wings @kozkaboi @cozy-the-overlord @birdgirl90​ @myraiswack​ @mythicalgarlicknot​ @what-a-flammable-heart​ @mlqcikemenmc​

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

Loki didn’t think he’d ever been so tired in his whole life. And after his latest mission, he felt ready to break down. Some Asgardian criminal had been wreaking havoc on Midgard, so Thor and Loki had been tasked with stopping him. It should have been easy considering they knew all about the villain. Except that worked the other way around, too, and he knew just how to get under Loki’s skin.

It hurt having his past dredged up and dangled in front of his face like that. Made him feel weak, fragile. Not that he would ever let his fellow Avengers know. Feeling tired and lonely, he stole away to his Midgardian’s house. And, yes, he considered you his Midgardian because none of his teammates knew bout you. By keeping your relationship a secret, he felt he could best keep you safe. Plus, this way you didn’t have to worry about the press.  

“How are you doing?” you asked, bringing over a cup of tea for him.

“Admittedly, still not amazing,” he responded, eyes closed. He was currently laying on your living room floor, enjoying the feel of the cold wood beneath him. He’d already told you all about the mission which, at very least, had been successful. “But getting better.”

“Is there anything else I can do to help?”

Loki contemplated as you carefully lifted his head and put it gently back down in your lap. You began lightly scratching his scalp, working your fingers through his hair. Your lilting laughter filled the room as he purred from the simple action. As you waited for his reply, you leaned forward and placed tiny kisses all over his face, saving his lips for last.

“Well, my sweet little mortal, this is certainly helping,” he chuckled.

You hummed as you continued to tenderly massage his head. Just enjoying the way you could be together and understand each other without having to speak, the god felt himself calm down considerably. Once he visibly relaxed, you ceased your ministrations and went to lie with your head resting on his chest. Instinctively, his arms wrapped around you. Your comforting scent filled his lungs, and you nuzzled against him as the last of the tension left his body. He always felt the most content when you were in each other’s arms.

“Thank you, my love,” he whispered. “For taking care of me.”

“You’re welcome, darling,” you responded, tracing patterns on the exposed skin at the nape of his neck. “You know what I think?”

“No. Do tell.”

You looked up at him, admiring the slope of his jaw from your vantage point. “You need a vacation. Something relaxing where you can decompress. Even superheroes deserve a break every now and again.”

His heart swelled hearing you call him a superhero. No matter what the rest of the world thought of him, he could never see himself as anything other than a villain. A worthless, vile criminal. But you? You told him he was far more than that. Just think; him a hero? It sounded preposterous, especially when you sprinkled in about a million other flattering adjectives. But you looked at him so sweetly, touched him so lovingly, that he began to believe you.

Loki truly did not know what he would do without you. Didn’t really want to think about it either, for that matter. He had a few times, though, and came to the conclusion he never wanted to have to say goodbye to you. Never wanted to leave your side. So if he was going to get away from his hectic life for a time, he would certainly need you to come with him.

“Perhaps. But only if you join me,” he finally replied.

“Deal,” you giggled as he kissed the top of his head. “So where are we going?”

“Hmm, how about you pick?” he suggested. “I will take you anywhere and everywhere you want to go.”

That was true for the most part, but he desperately hoped that you wouldn’t say Asgard. You’d mentioned wanting to visit before, and Loki had promised that you would some day. He was, however, putting it off for as long as he could. It wasn’t that he was embarrassed he was dating a mortal or anything like that. In fact, it was quite the opposite. He supposed it should be odd he was embarrassed of a magical realm with a golden palace, but he certainly didn’t have very fond memories of the place. Or the people there.

“Alright then. What about Paris?” you asked. “You know, the city of love? I think that sounds good for us.”

“Indeed it does, my little mortal,” he eagerly agreed, glad you hadn’t mentioned his home world. “The arrangements shall be made.”

The two of you chatted for a while longer, never getting up from your spot on the floor. For so long, Loki had been searching for something to make his life complete. He hadn’t realized that something was actually a someone. Here with you, he knew you were all he needed, he’d do anything for you. So of course he obliged your next request.

“Hey, Loki? Will you please sing for me?” you innocently questioned.

He had always been self-conscious about how he sounded, but you always told him how enchanting his voice was, how much you loved it. It was actually an accident the first time he sang for you. He’d been preparing dinner at your house for the first time. Out of habit, he began to sing, forgetting he wasn’t alone. Then you came up behind him and hugged him, telling him he sounded beautiful. His face was bright red, but he was thrilled you enjoyed it.

Thinking of that time, he sang the same song he had then. You’d requested it multiple times since, and it had quickly become one of your favorites. It was an Asgardian tune, so you couldn’t understand the words. You just liked the way he sounded, though. You never asked him what it was about, either. Instead, you liked to make up little stories in your head. By now you knew it well enough to hum along to certain parts, which made Loki unbelievably happy. He wanted to write a song for you, one day. He’d actually started one, but knew there was so much he still wanted to say. But some day, when he’d perfectly and completely put into the lyrics how much he loves you, he’d sing it.

Soon he’d tell his teammates, or at very least his brother, about you. That would be unavoidable if he was going to spend the rest of his life with you. But for now, he just enjoyed his time with you, undisturbed by the world. As if you knew what he was thinking, you kissed ever so gently over where his heart beat within his chest.

Troubles long forgotten and still singing, laying in his love’s living room with his eyes closed, Loki smiled brighter than he ever had before. And, without even having to open up those brilliant blue-green orbs, he knew you were smiling right back.

[haikyuucute]

Untamable (Ushijima Wakatoshi) [Omegaverse AU]

Pairing: Alpha!Ushijima x omega!reader

Summary: You seemed like an untamable omega to Ushijima

Warnings: Sexual themes, implied smut

Word Count: 5.6k

[A/N]: So I’ve been rlly iffy about posting this bcuz I know that this au isn’t everyone’s favorite. But I rlly like this au and I have fun writing for it, so I figured if someone doesn’t like it then they can scroll past it or blacklist the tag ‘omegaverse’ anyway, so I decided to go ahead and post this

Ushijima Wakatoshi liked order and he liked things that made sense. He was a simple man and he would call it like he’d see it.

And what made sense to him was the dynamic system. Alphas were placed at the top, then betas, then omegas.

He believed this was right because it was ingrained in everyone’s genetics to follow this order.

It was why Hinata Shouyou had affected him so deeply. He was small, his volleyball technique was a mess and yet he and Karasuno beat Shiratorizawa.

Ushijima considered himself to be a very strong alpha— possibly the strongest in Shiratorizawa. His presence commanded every area he was in and omegas would fall silent at his scent, waiting for him to speak first. He had even been dubbed the alpha of alphas in school.

So it didn’t make sense for Hinata to have so much baseless confidence. It annoyed him and got under his skin to the point he thought about it quite often and how he could win next time.

Another thing that got under his skin was the little omega he shared a couple classes with— only she annoyed him far more than Hinata did.

Because while the little orange haired boy was a weak alpha, he was still just that. An alpha.

And yet, you walked around with the confidence of an alpha.

You were definitely the outcast, most omegas found you annoying and most alphas didn’t like to bother with an omega that didn’t know their place. Your scent wasn’t sweet and delicate like an omega’s either, it was tangy and citrusy (not at all a bad smell, even Ushijima would admit it was nice, just not that of an omegas). And worst of all, if you stepped out of line and an alpha tried to put you back in your place, you’d stick up your nose, turn the other way around, and continue with what you were doing in the first place.

This behavior always sat wrong with him but he never had to come into close contact with you, he’d just catch instances of this in class or in the hallways. Always hating the way you demanded to be seen.

And Ushijima knew he wasn’t in the wrong because everyone had found you strange. You didn’t even have any friends until your third year of high school when you shared your first class with the renowned Guess Monster.

Tendou, Ushijima, and you all shared a science class your third year, and though Ushijima had prior knowledge of you, it was the first time Tendou ever really noticed you.

And being dubbed a freak himself, Tendou immediately wanted to befriend you and it was only a short while after that he noticed how much you got under Ushijima’s skin.

So as a fellow freak and probably the only person other than Hinata that could get a rise out of the usually stoic alpha— well, Tendou just had to become your best friend.

Thus it began.

Tendou inviting you to work on group projects with him and Ushijima.

Tendou then inviting you to watch practices.

Tendou invited you to games.

And worst of all— Tendou invited you to hang out in his and Ushijima’s dorm.

And you quickly became someone Ushijima had to endure all day, every day.

You knew right from the beginning when you started hanging out with Tendou that the great Ushiwaka didn’t want anything to do with you. If you tried to talk to him he’d answer with four words at most or blatantly ignore you all together (then again he did that with everyone, but with you it just somehow felt different). And that was because although he was a strong alpha, he had better things to do than put an omega back in their place.

So he put up with you for days— weeks— months— until suddenly he couldn’t.

In what Tendou liked to call the “staring contest of the year” you had outwardly challenged Ushijima. But!— in your defense it was on an outrageously ridiculous subject that you believed you had the right to believe and that Ushijima should’ve respected that regardless of his own biases.

It was an argument that took place in their dorm while the two of them were there. You had casually walked in, an agitated look on your face, exclaiming:

”I hate alphas!” You yelled, pushing their door open. You ignored Ushijima who sent you a slightly irritated glance from where he was seated at his desk, reading a volleyball magazine or something, and went immediately over to the giggling Tendou.

He was up on his bed on the top bunk and you climbed the ladder, seating yourself next to where he was sprawled out, with a pout on your face.

”Should I be offended~” he laughed.

”You don’t count.”

”That’s more offensive than your last statement.”

You rolled your eyes, “Fine, you’re the exception— but alphas suck.”

He moved closer, throwing an arm around you with a large grin, “Did something happen? Do tell, (F/N)-chan~” he sang.

“Well... I may have gotten into another fight with an omega.”

”Ohoho~ did you win?”

”I guess. She pulled my hair so I punched her and... found out she has a mate.”

Tendou burst into another fit of laughter, and started poking your side, “Did you try fighting an alpha again?”

You swatted his hands away, “I just stood up for myself.”

”And how’d that go?”

”Stupid. He came up to me and did that dumb alpha thing where they stand up straighter and puff their chests out with the expectation that I’d be a cowering little omega in their presence,” you scoffed, “He told me that I shouldn’t step out of line and start fights with mated omegas, which is total bullshit because she pulled my hair first!” You yelled, falling back against his bed. “I hate alphas!”

“You punched his mate,” Ushijima who usually ignored you whenever you were over spoke up for the first time.

You furrowed your eyebrows, propping yourself up on your elbows, “Yeah, cause she pulled my hair.”

”She was wrong too.”

You scoffed, “So what? The alpha was in the right?”

”You punched his mate, he was protecting her.”

You shot up and glared at Ushijima who was still reading his magazine. ”Well I was protecting myself.” You practically hissed out.

Ushijima finally stopped what he was doing and turned around to stare up at you from where you were seated on Tendou’s bed.

Tendou’s eyes flitted back and forth between the two of you, seeing how pissed off you were, and at how Ushijima was taken aback at the tone you used with him, and Tendou’s grin slowly widened.

”You speak as if you’re an alpha,” Ushijima said, eyebrows slightly furrowed.

”I speak like an omega who’s fed up with alphas,” you spat back.

Ushijima slowly stood up and you could smell his scent had changed. It was stronger and more powerful— definitely covering up yours and some of Tendou’s scent. And you could pretty much smell how annoyed and pissed he was with you.

And as a result you felt the omega in you want to apologize and take everything back, bowing your head down, too weak to make eye contact. It was a feeling you had become quite accustomed to with how often alphas did this to you, and you became quite good at ignoring those instincts.

But Ushijima was stronger than all those alphas, and Tendou watched in awe as the most strong willed omega he’s ever met started to shrink in her seat, eyes glued to her lap.

Ushijima stood in front of you, and due to his height he was nearly eye level with you despite you sitting up on the top bunk.

“You’re careless,” He spoke lowly, as blunt as ever, “You speak the first thing that comes to mind with no regard if you offend someone, and you’re surprised when an alpha tries to put you back in your place. You’re an omega.” His voice loud and firm, “Power does not lean in your favor. Learn your place.”

You bit down on your lip hard, finding it difficult to meet his eyes but with everything you had in you, you forced yourself up straight and looked him dead in the eye.

Tendou’s eyes widened at your display but he kept quiet, glancing at how the usually stoic Ushijima looked slightly thrown off guard.

“I will never settle for being submissive,” you spoke slowly, never breaking your eye contact, “And I will never stop striving for independence. You like this power system because it’s all you’ve ever known— I’ll show you that you’re wrong and I’ll do whatever it takes.”

From there the two of you stared at each other for what felt like forever, Tendou holding his breath to see who would give in first. Until it was finally time to go to volleyball practice and Ushijima was forced to look away, making you smile triumphantly.

And so it began. The start of an overly exhausting plan that you were committed to executing.

And if Ushijima thought you were a nuisance before it was nothing compared to now.

A few days after the incident you acted as if it never happened, putting on a cheery and energetic façade. And you actually spoke to him in that same friendly manner you spoke to Tendou and others on the team.

He soon realized there would be no end to your chatter. You’d go on and on about your day, shows and movies you liked, hobbies that you were into, and you’d ask him tons and tons of questions that he’d just ignore but you wouldn’t shut up, forcing him to answer your questions— you even started calling him Waka-kun while you remained (L/N)-san.

But you didn’t care. You vowed that you’d force your way into his heart until he finally saw you as an equal instead of an overly obnoxious omega.

It took months but somehow, by some kind of miracle, Ushijima came to the conclusion... you actually weren’t that bad.

Of course you were still loud, kind of annoying, and spoke out of turn most of the time. But he guessed that some of your better qualities started sticking out the more you hung around him.

For one, you were always happy.

Happiness wasn’t an emotion Ushijima felt often, he knew the feeling of victory when he defeated a difficult opponent in volleyball but that never lasted that long because, well— Ushijima always won...(for the most part). And he knew what it felt like to be satisfied and generally content.

But the happiness you exuded. This absolutely boundless amount of energy and cheerfulness you walked around with despite being put down by practically the entire student body, it made you slightly more admirable in his eyes.

And then he saw your loyalty and devotion towards the team and specifically Tendou. By definition, Tendou was technically your best friend and you made sure to prioritize him in your life because of how grateful you were to call him a friend, this meant inviting him out places and never turning down an invitation he made. You let him talk to you when he was down and comforted and supported him appropriately. And when it came to the team, you were kind of an honorary manager (you didn’t actually have the title because the coach would never trust an omega to do the job) but you gave them water bottles and towels during practice and made sure to attend all their games and cheer for them. So even the team who had been kind of cold to you in the beginning, ended up growing rather fond of you, and you were just as happy to consider them your friends.

But he supposed what stuck out to him the most was how determined you were to be more acquainted with him. You’d ask about his day, his childhood, volleyball, anything really. And you somehow had the ability to pull more than a couple words from his mouth as time went on.

And all from the shadows, the Guess Monster was watching. Observing how a very odd friendship grew between the two of you. And although Ushijima rarely let any emotion of any kind show, after three months Tendou made an educated guess.

Ushijima Wakatoshi was actually falling for you.

From a surface level no one could really tell, but Tendou started picking up on the way Ushijima’s scent would change whenever you were near, it’d grow softer, and slightly more non threatening than his usual scent. It was a small detail but spoke volumes. Other than that, he noticed more and more how he grew comfortable around you, letting you talk his ear off and he’d answer your questions with more than three words. But what gave it away for him was when he had stepped into one of your fights where an omega started yelling at you for acting too much like an alpha. It was the first time he had ever done it and although you told him you could fight your own battles, he doubted it would be the last fight Ushijima broke up for you.

With you it was actually harder to tell if you were starting to like Ushijima back, and this was based off of all your rants he’s heard about you never wanting to mate with an alpha and that you’d much rather mate with a beta. It was hard to picture you with an alpha and even harder to picture you with an alpha as strong as Ushijima.

But he, figured out that yes— you did reciprocate those feelings when he caught a certain sight.

You went out with Tendou and Ushijima one night and stayed up late, you were absolutely exhausted so Ushijima ended up giving you a piggyback ride back to your dorm. And that’s when Tendou noticed the way you nuzzled your face into his neck. He couldn’t tell if you were trying to scent yourself or if you just found his scent soothing enough to fall asleep to— but either way there were definitely mutual feelings there.

The only problem was that the two of you were too dense to acknowledge those feelings.

So as usual Tendou decided to take it upon himself to get the two of you closer.

He came up with a fairly simple but hopefully effective plan.

Not that long ago you came to Tendou and asked if he’d been willing to give you volleyball lessons every now and then after you came to really admire the sport after watching them play for so long. And he agreed of course.

So now it was just a matter of getting Ushijima to take his place—

“I won’t be able to make our volleyball lesson (F/N)-chan,” Tendou suddenly spoke up from where he laid on the floor.

He watched as your head poked over the top bunk where you lay, a pout on your face, “What? Why not?” You whined.

”I’ll be busy this weekend, but!” He suddenly exclaimed, looking over at Ushijima, “Maybe Wakatoshi-kun could take my place.”

”No,” came Ushijima’s answer, from where he sat on his bed.

Tendou frowned at how dense he could be.

You pouted further, “Waka-kun would be mean about it if he helped me anyway.”

”Don’t be silly—“

”I’m not! I can picture it now!” You suddenly made a very serious face, mimicking Ushijima’s, “(L/N)-chan you have awful technique. (L/N)-chan you understand nothing about volleyball. (L/N)-chan you suck.”

Tendou giggled at that, seeing your point, “You’d also be getting taught by a top player in the nation~” he sang.

You paused for a moment, thinking it over, “... We’d probably get in a fight though and I hate arguing with him.”

”You hate it because you lose,” Ushijima spoke up.

”Shut up!” You yelled, moving to hang over the edge of the bed to see him.

He glanced up at your upside down form, “l’m right.”

And since he was always painfully blunt and honest, you knew he actually was right, so you settled on pouting further.

”Y’know people would kill to have someone like Wakatoshi teach them volleyball,” Tendou said, continuing to convince you, “He’s the best of the best, don’t you want to be the best~”

”I’m not that passionate about volleyball,” you deadpanned.

He faltered, until a thought struck him, and he grinned, “Remember that time you tagged along with the team to the beach and we were short one person for volleyball and asked you to play?”

You glared darkly at him for reminding you about that humiliating incident— they were a powerhouse school after all, why the hell would they ask you to play when you had barely any experience. “Yes,” you muttered.

”Well what if Wakatoshi-kun taught you a few of his tricks and you got to show off next time we play together.”

He knew he had you when your eyes widened in realization.

You looked back down at Ushijima from where you hung upside down, “Waka-kun teach me volleyball.”

”No,” he replied, looking down at his homework.

”Please.”

”No.”

”Please.”

”No.”

”Please.”

”No.”

“Ugh— why notttt,” you whined.

”Because you don’t play volleyball.”

”Well I want to show off to the team the next time you guys force me to play.”

”You still wouldn’t be as good as them.”

You frowned, “I already know that, but you don’t always have to say the truth.”

Ushijima couldn’t help himself when he looked back up at you, something in your tone bothering him. And the pout and look in your eyes really bothered him for some reason. But he didn’t like being the cause of it and he really wanted to see it leave your face.

“Fine,” he gave in. He watched as your face instantly lit up, a smile gracing your features and it admittedly made him feel weirder than when you were upset.

You flipped off the top bunk to Ushijima’s bed and threw your arms around his shoulders in a hug, “Thank you Waka-kun~” you sang.

And Tendou grinned from ear to ear, watching as Ushijima’s face tinted the lightest of pinks.

——

“You’re late,” Ushijima grunted as he watched you burst through the gym doors, trying to catch your breath.

”I know!” You panted, “I got held up by a teacher.” You said, throwing your bag to the ground. You made your way over to Ushijima who was previously practicing by himself as he waited. “Now, you can’t be mean remember, this is just for fun. It’s not like I’m gonna be using this in any actual tournaments, this is just to shut the team up the next time they make fun of me for sucking at volleyball.”

He nodded and the two of you started.

You quickly figured out that playing volleyball with Ushijima was very different than when you’d play with Tendou. Tendou was always goofing around and joking with you but with Ushijima he was unsurprisingly very serious, so it was up to you to lighten the mood. But you had to admit he was a pretty good teacher and kept the rude comments to a minimum, which was a feat on its own because he very rarely censored himself and you knew you weren’t doing to well.

It was well into the hour when shit finally hit the fan.

Ushijima asked you to toss him the ball to demonstrate him hitting a spike. So you did and as usual because of his strong spikes, the ball ended up rolling off, landing by your bag on the other side of the gym.

You offered to go get it, and in hindsight you really wished you did. But Ushijima said it was fine and went off to grab the ball.

When he went to pick it up, he noticed the zipper of your bag was opened and something inside caught his eye. He glanced back at you to see you looking down at your phone, before he brought his attention back to the object and pulled it out. His eyebrows furrowed.

It was a pill bottle and the label told him they were heat suppressants. But that wasn’t what caught his eye.

The date said they were prescribed about a month ago and the bottle was already three quarters gone.

He stood up straight and turned, “What are these?” He called out to you, making you look up.

You furrowed your eyebrows, “Idiot, are you going through my bag? Put those back and get back over here.” You rolled your eyes.

He only listened to half of what you said as he held the bottle and walked back, “(L/N)-chan, what is this?”

You looked at him confusedly, “They’re heat suppressants or did you forget that I’m an omega and go through heats?”

”More than half of them are gone.”

You faltered, realizing he checked the date on them. But you played it cool and shrugged, “So?”

”It’s dangerous to have that many suppressants in a month.”

You rolled your eyes, “What? Are you suddenly an omega now? They’re my pills, I can use them how I want.”

You could see Ushijima getting frustrated now, “The side effects of this many can be harmful to your body.”

”I’m fine— I’m more than fine. I haven’t had to go through a heat in a while and I’ve been functioning just the same, only it’s better now because I don’t have to deal with heats.”

He furrowed his eyebrows, “What do you mean by ‘a while’?” He asked worried to hear just how long you were putting your body through this. Suppressants were meant to make heats easier, not stop them all together.

“Nothing, it really doesn’t matter,” you said in an attempt to brush it off.

”How long (L/N)-chan?”

You clenched your jaw, looking down at the ground, not answering.

”How long,” his voice became darker and firmer.

You hated it but when he used that tone, you found it difficult to deny, “A....a year.” You muttered.

Ushijima’s eyes widened in shock and horror, and it was probably the most emotion you’ve ever seen from him, “You missed four heats?”

”Well.... yeah.”

”You can’t do that to your body—“

”Why not?” You snapped, looking up at him, “It’s my body isn’t it? And my heats are my business. I’ve been completely fine up till now anyway.”

”What about your next heat? You have to have one eventually and if you’ve missed four, your next heat will be unbearable.”

”That’s only for some people,” you scoffed, “I could be completely fine.”

”And if you’re not? You don’t have a mate.”

”Why do you even care!” You huffed.

”Because—“ you’re my omega.

Ushijima completely stopped as the thought popped in his head. He was caught so off guard by that he forgot his argument.

But he did his best to compose himself before stating, “I’m keeping these.”

You scowled, “Like hell you are!” You yelled before leaping for the pill bottle, but he just held it over his head and out of your reach. You grabbed his arm and tried to pull it down but he would barely budge, “Ushijima this isn’t funny!” You yelled out in anger and slight panic.

He ignored the slight sting he felt at hearing his last name, but he didn’t give in, “This is for your own good.”

”Fuck my own good! I need those pills— I can’t go through another heat!”

”You’re an omega,” he snapped, “You can’t keep pretending you’re an alpha. Heats are necessary, learn your place already.”

And there were those words you absolutely despised, ‘learn your place’.

You blinked back the frustrated tears, “I’m leaving,” you scoffed. And with that you quickly ran out, grabbing your bag and leaving a very pissed off alpha behind you.

—

Tendou had no idea how things could get so screwed up the one time he got you two alone together.

You ended up avoiding Ushijima at all costs and Ushijima being who he was was definitely not going to approach you first when he believed he was right.

But Tendou could only handle so much of this stupid fight before trying to convince the two of you to make up.

But you said you’d only forgive him if he gave you your pills back and Ushijima said he wasn’t going to. So when Tendou got you to swear to Ushijima that you’d use them properly was he then able to sway Ushijima into giving them back.

So he did and you forgave him.

Of course there was still some resentment and animosity about the whole thing, but after a couple weeks things were back to normal more or less.

That was until that inevitable day approached.

You hadn’t come to class which wasn’t unusual because you liked to skip every once in a while, so Ushijima and Tendou didn’t think much of it at first.

That was until they overheard a conversation between two omegas not too far from them.

”The entire history hallway literally smells like omega.” The one girl complained.

”Really?” Her friend asked, “What happened.”

She shrugged, “Dunno. I think some omega went into heat, but my god is it strong. I think they locked themselves in a supply closet, there’s a group of as alphas just outside the door.”

”I feel kinda bad. We should tell someone to go help them. Do we know who the omega is?”

”Everyone’s pretty sure it’s (L/N) since the scent is pretty citrusy. Her roommate also told me she takes suppressants like they’re candy so it makes sense.”

Suddenly Ushijima had stood up. Tendou looked up at the alpha with a questioning gaze, but as he watched him just head straight for the door, a grin grew on his face as he knew where this was headed.

—

You were a mess as you hid away inside the supply closet. The heat had randomly hit you out of no where without a single warning. The most you were able to do was quickly lock yourself in the closet. And now you were left trembling in a curled up ball in the corner of the room.

You were hot everywhere and covered in a layer of sweat. Your chest rose and fell in breathy pants and the uncomfortable pool of wetness in your panties was getting really distracting.

And on top of all that, there was a group of alphas just outside calling out to you. You couldn’t make out what they were saying because of how overwhelmed you felt but their scents were definitely accelerating the heat.

And dread filled you at the thought of Ushijima being right. All four heats that you missed just hit you all at once.

This was the most helpless you’ve ever felt.

...Then you smelled it.

A scent far more overpowering than the alphas scents combined. And a scent you knew all to well. Heavy and woody— a scent that made your head spin and squeeze your legs together as a broken whimper left your throat.

The others had scattered in fear, soon leaving you alone with Ushijima Wakatoshi’s scent.

Ushijima walked in, easily breaking the lock. His gaze was intense as usual but there was also something else in his eyes as he found you curled up on the ground of the supply closet, in heat.

And even in the presence of an omega in a heat extreme as yours, Ushijima showed an incredible display over his instincts as he barely seemed bothered by it. The only thing that gave him away was how his breathing slowed, taking in deeper breaths as what was probably the prettiest and most mouth watering scent he ever smelled flooded his senses.

His presence commanded the area and the air reeked of his scent, and as tough as you were, even you fell weak to the presence of an alpha while in heat— and the so called alpha of alphas no less.

Your legs were squeezed tight as you buried your face in your knees, covering your nose from his scent.

”(L/N),” he said, voice deep and a touch of anger in it.

You whimpered, trying to fight back the tears that threatened to fall.

”Waka-kun,” your voice came out weak, broken, and muffled, it had even made Ushijima falter for a second, uneasy seeing you act so helpless. “I-I can’t— I can’t do this,” you shook your head, the tears running down your face now. “I-it’s barely even started and— and th-this feels worse than m-my worst heat.” You sniffled, body trembling and shaking now.

”I told you not to take those suppressants.”

A broken moan came out after hearing his rumbling voice and you squeezed your legs tighter— how embarrassing.

In truth, Ushijima greatly disliked seeing you like this, especially after developing such a fondness over the tough and fiery omega that used to drive him mad (and still does from time to time.) But there was still something he greatly enjoyed with seeing how submissive you were being in front of him— as long as he was the only one that got to see you like this. So what you said next, sparked something in him.

”D...do y-you know an a-alpha that... can help?” Your words were broken up with sobs and stifled moans.

And a strong sense of possessiveness washed over him at the thought of another alpha possibly aiding you through this heat.

”That won’t be necessary,” he spoke curtly, “Stand up,” he said, walking forward.

You clamped your hand tighter over your nose, suffocating on his scent, and you shook your head furiously, “I-I don’t know if I c-can—“

”Stand,” and there was no arguing with the Alpha tone in his voice, your body wouldn’t let you.

So on trembling knees you shakily stood up, holding your breath as you used the wall for support as you leaned against it.

Something wild was overtaking Ushijima’s senses at seeing how fragile and delicate you looked, and he stalked forward, eyes heavy with an intense gaze on you.

And he was now in front of you as you stared down at the ground, waiting for what he’d do next as you tried your best to stay composed by attempting to ignore his presence.

Suddenly, he raised his hand to cup your jaw, his other hand gripping your wrist to pull it away from your nose. And the absolute predatorial look in his eyes would’ve knocked you to your knees if the wall wasn’t there to support you.

He stroked your cheek with his thumb, wiping a tear away. “From tonight onwards you’re mine.” He growled before lifting your jaw up further.

You moaned at that and quickly nodded, “I-I’m yours.”

”I don’t care if you always want to fight back as long as you understand that right now, I’m in charge.” He said as his thumb traced your bottom lip before tugging down on it. And the second after you nodded, he crashed his lips against yours in a bruising kiss.

Your resolve immediately crumbled and you easily melted into the kiss, collapsing into him. A cry left your lips which was promptly swallowed by Ushijima. Your arms wrapped around his neck tightly as you tried rutting against his thigh. But he quickly grabbed ahold of your hips, stilling you.

You whined into his mouth, “Please Waka-kun.”

”Patience,” he commanded, making you quickly shut your mouth. “I’m going to take care of you,” and with that he picked you up.

He walked with you in his arms through the deserted hallway, making his way towards the dormitories, specifically his.

And as he walked through the school building, classes having been just let out, he ignored the stares and stunned silence from his peers as they gawked at the sight of the Alpha of Shiratorizawa Academy walking with the little annoying omega of the school in his arms, who was clearly in heat.

But right now all that was on his mind was getting you back to his dorm safely so he could spend the next how ever many days fucking you until all you could possibly remember was his name.

Ushijima unlocked his dorm door, seeing an already grinning Tendou sitting upon his bed, “Well didn’t this work out nicely?” He teased.

”Tendou I need the—“

He raised his hands in surrender, “I know, I know,” he said getting up, his eyes landing on you for a second, “Definitely a sight I never thought I’d see,” he mused at seeing you so submissive in Ushijima’s arms, before practically singing, “Have fun~” on his way out.

Ushijima kicked the door shut before walking over to his bed and dropping you on it. You were sprawled out on your back, absolutely breathless.

His own breathing was beginning to become more and more labored as your heat was pushing him into a rut.

”You’re going to behave?” He asked.

You nodded, a mewl escaping your lips as you rubbed your thighs together.

”Use your words.”

”Y-yes alpha,” you managed to get out, a glint reaching his eye at the title.

”Good. Now....bare your neck.”

You scrambled to do as he said, and a slight smirk grazed his lips at the sight, a sense of pride, similar to when he won tournaments, washed over him.

You kneeled up on your knees, titling your head to the side for him.

He smiled, cupping the side of your face, before leaning down to mark you.

So yes, Ushijima would put up with your fiery attitude and need to go against everything everyone tells you to do, as long as he’d be the one to get to see you like this.

Because for the first time since he’s known you.

You were finally listening.

[roger-that-cap]

tolerate it

part 2/2 of cardigan!

so, this is the follow up to my first ever one shot (guess not anymore LMAO) up here! i sincerely hope that you guys like this, because it was like pulling teeth for this one. every now and again i’d find a golden one and smack it in there and hope that one decent line made up for all the others.

natasha romanoff x fem!reader

this was the hardest thing ive ever had to write (simply because there was so much emotion in it and it was hard to reel myself back in just to cast out again) and i had to write a paper on nathaniel hawthorne.

warnings: pretty angsty for me, bittersweet, um- why do i write angst, DRAMATICS hahaha

word count: 4.5k!

would like to remind you that i do not own taylor swift songs! this one borrows a little from tolerate it, the best song on evermore imho (tied with coney island).

You knew that opening the door was going to be a hard part, but what you didn’t prepare for was actually listening to her. You could have stared at her for eternity in silence, just harping on everything good and bad that ever happened between the two of you. You could imagine a thousand different scenarios where the two of you were happy and none of this had occurred, but that wasn’t the case. She didn’t come to you to stare and leave.

“Thank you,” Natasha said, her voice throaty as she took a cautious first step into your space. Your space. It sounded weird, and you knew that it felt weird to her. You two had shared everything for the longest, and now you had your own place to live in. “Thank you for letting me in.”

“You came to talk,” you said, wrapping your arms around yourself protectively, and she didn’t miss the obvious tell of your body language. “I won’t make you waste your time. Say your piece, and then...” you trailed off, both of you knowing full well where you were going with it. 

“Can I just start with the fact that I’m so sorry,” she blurted, and you have her an unamused look as you sat on your couch, and she sat on the edge of it. “And that I don’t know why that happened. I don��t expect for you to ever forgive me, and I don’t forgive myself. I won’t ever forgive myself for hurting you so badly, and having such a lapse in judgement. I’m sorry.”

“What was it that was different?” You asked, the question that had been haunting you for a while now finally escaping your lips. When she gave you a confused look, you stared back at her. “What was so different about whatever happened on the mission?”

You didn’t ask what you did wrong, because you didn’t do anything wrong. It took you weeks to know that, weeks to come to the conclusion, but you knew. It wasn’t anything that you lacked, it was something that Natasha did. Whether it was loyalty, restraint, a moral compass, or even something else, you didn’t think that it was you.

“There was nothing different.”

You were trying to hold it together, but you knew that you were seconds from falling apart right in front of the person who had destroyed you. “You don’t have to lie.”

She made a face. “There wasn’t. There was nothing about her that was better than you, I swear.”

But there was nothing different. There was nothing different in the way that you held her to the way that Abigail did, then. There must have been nothing different in the way that you kissed her in the morning. Nothing special about how you would dance with her on the third of the month simply because you liked the number three. There was nothing special about the way you held her hand and rubbed her back and sometimes sang her to sleep when she needed it. And there was certainly nothing different or special about the way that you let her put her head on your chest, just so that she could hear your heart beating.

Maybe what you did was different or special to you and not to her. And maybe it was time for you to finally realize it, whether it hurt or not.

Your emotions were threatening to come through, and you couldn’t have that happen. “I thought you came to talk. Talking requires truth.”

“I did,” she rushed, and then she sighed and wiped her palms on her thighs. You knew what that was. Of course you knew what she was. That was her being nervous. “I just wanted you to know that I love you, I love you so much, no matter what you choose. I never meant for any of it to happen, and I hate myself for making you feel that way.”

“You knew what happened with the others,” you said, and you knew that she knew that you were talking about the men who used to cheat on you without thinking twice. You saw her wince. “You knew how I felt about dishonesty. You knew how long it took me to be fully trusting of you, and you ruined it for two months of fun?”

“I know I did.”

“Do you know that, Natasha?” You asked, your voice starting to raise a bit. “I trusted you, and then I gave you everything I had. There wasn’t a piece of me that wasn’t for you, don’t you get that? I painted a portrait of us with the best colors I had and you opened the door on me doing the finishing touches and threw black paint over it.”

She was surprised that you were actually allowing yourself to be angry, and that made you even more upset. You were allowed to be pissed. “I’m sorry,” she breathed out, a thin layer of tears in her eyes.

“I did- I had everything lying out on the table for you emotionally. It was wrapped so pretty for you when I helped you through your own stuff, and it waited until you were ready. There wasn’t a thing you didn’t know, not a secret kept from you. And I still can’t believe that you returned me being in love with you, with that.”

“It didn’t mean anything to me. None of it meant anything to me at all, I swear.”

“It meant something to Abigail,” you said, and you saw her flinch. “It meant something to the girl that told you that she loved you. And if I’m not mistaken, you told her the same. So did it really not mean something, or are you an even larger liar than I thought?”

“It didn’t mean anything.” For a spy, she was quite easy to read. Or maybe you just spent so much time knowing her that it was impossible to not know her inside and out. You knew her every movement that she made when she lied, and you knew what she looked like when she was telling the truth. This, this wasn’t it.

And it destroyed you.

“Don’t you understand how that feels? It feels like being cut a thousand times by the fancy blade that you made yourself. It feels like being bitten by your own dog. It feels like being nearly drowned in the oceans that you’ve swam in for forever. We were so close! We were so close that I was sure that we were predestined or some of that cheesy shit, Natasha. I could have sworn that we were meant for each other, but now I know that we were, because the betrayal that you did cut me down into a million pieces. That was something that neither of the others were able to do. That’s something that only you could do, and I trusted you not to do it. I never thought you could do it. I thought that you loved me far too much to pull the shit that you did.

“Maybe I was foolish enough to make the knife right in front of you, but I trusted you to know it was there and not use it against me. And you still stabbed me with it.” Your voice cracked and you could feel warm tears falling into your hand, but you didn’t care. You had to keep going. “How could you see me give and give and give to you, for you, and then tolerate it and go see someone else?”

She was breathing heavily after your rant, like she had spoken the words instead. A singular tear came down her face, and you thanked whoever was sitting above and watching for the crack in her mask. You were begging to see her half as emotional as you, half as hurt by her own actions.

You knew that it was different when you saw her wipe her tear. She never wiped her tears around you. You were the only one who got to see them, but you supposed not even you were allowed to see it anymore.

“I can’t even begin-” her voice cracked, and she cleared her throat. “I can’t even begin to tell you how much I regret what happened.”

“How do you regret-” you pursed your lips and shook your head, closing your eyes for a second as your heart clenched. “How do you regret falling in love with someone?”

“I don’t love her-”

“Do you love me?” You asked.

“More than I love anything else in the entire world.”

“You loved her more if you risked me losing me, Natasha.” You said, and her brows shot up at your conclusion. “You know what would happen if you did that to me and I found out. You knew you would lose me, and you did it anyway. So you two must have had something special. Congrats.”

“No, you’re-”

The temper that you tried to keep in check was bubbling over again, and you realized that there was no checking yourself. “Do you know how long I waited for you and never cheated? Never had sex with anyone else, never went on a date with anyone else? For just as long as you were supposed to! And I managed! So what’s wrong with you?”

“Y/N, I think we should calm down a little. Let’s talk it out for a second.”

“I’ve been talking it out. All by myself, actually, because you’re too afraid to do a damn thing and admit that you fucked up for two months straight.” You closed your eyes again as you felt the hurt come back up. “How do I know it was just that time? How do I know that?”

There was a silence that spoke volumes. “You don’t.”

“And what if we got back together, after all of this?” It was hypothetical, but seeing the hope perk up in her sparked something that you hadn’t felt towards her in forever. Or, you had, it was just smothered by the heat of your fury. “How would I know that you aren’t off pulling the same thing you did earlier?”

“You’d have to trust me.”

“Well, I can’t do that. I literally can’t,” you cried out, putting your head in your hands and shaking you head. It was quiet except for the sounds of your cries, and it was ominous. There was never a quiet moment between you and Natasha, but you were dying out, fizzling away. You already had your Big Bang, now you were creating black holes that would forever remain on opposite sides of the universe. And you both knew it.

“You- you humiliated me,” you shook your head from left to right again, face still hidden. “You had an affair with a younger girl, you did it in front of the people I shared a living space with. You did it shamelessly in front of the people I cooked meals for every day, the people who’s fucking uniforms I ironed! They were my friends too, Natasha, and you humiliated me. You made them keep your dirty secret, did you apologize to them?”

“I haven’t spoken to them much.”

“I had to figure out from Pepper in front of the wedding dress store,” you continued, your throat tightening. “I was there getting the dress that I was going to walk down the aisle in. Everything was perfect, and then you did something that shattered what I thought couldn’t be broken.” You had thought that you and Natasha were rock solid, the hardest stone. You two were diamonds that sparkled and prevailed together, until you learned that you were truly just glass.

She leaned forward, giving you a look that you knew meant honesty. But it was far too late for that, and it wasn’t going to do Natasha much good now. “I wish every second of the day that I didn’t do it, Y/N. Every second of every day.”

Your lips turned into a scowl. “Wishing doesn’t do anything for us. We’re not little kids and we’re not princesses.”

That word, wishing, must have been the one to do her in, because she was sobbing right into her own sleeve, an arm covering her eyes from your sight. Your tears were subsiding, and you watched her with thinly pressed lips. Watching her cry was never pleasant.

“I’m so, so sorry. I can’t- I can’t imagine how you must feel, but I’m so sorry. I don’t know why- I can only apologize to you and beg that you’ll welcome me back to you, where I’m supposed to be.” Your eye twitched as you listened, and told yourself to keep your strength up. “I fucked up. I fucked up so bad, baby, but I know now. I know who I’m meant to be with, and it wasn't her. It’s you, it always has been.”

You knew that. You had always known that. It was a fact, something that had always rang as true as the beating of your own heart. You knew that it was written in the stars for you by some gracious god who decided to reveal what could have been your present and future to you, but you guess the other half of the tale never saw it herself. She knew now, sure. But she learned a little too late for your taste.

“Please, you have to know. You have to know that I didn’t- that I would never do it again.” 

How could you tell someone that their apology wasn’t enough? How could you reject someone when they were at their lowest point? How were you going to find the strength in yourself to turn down the woman that you still very much loved? The one that you thought that you lost to another was right in front of you, begging for a second chance, but was it right for you to give it to her?

But how could she see you at your most vulnerable every day and know that you loved and cared for her with your whole heart and still do what she did? How was she okay with ruining you after all that you had been through? How did she not feel bad for two months about betraying the one person who she knew would be forever in her corner?

Whatever her method was to do things that hurt the people she supposedly loved, she found a way. And so would you.

“Have you said what you needed to?” You asked, your tone slow and deliberate as you fought for your tears not to ruin your words. Just as slowly, she nodded. “Then, please leave.”

A noise left her throat. “Please, wait. Wait.”

“There’s nothing left to say, Nat. We said it all.” You stood up, and she followed. “Fix your relationships at the tower, alright?”

“Don’t,” she muttered, tears streaming down her face. “Please don’t tell me that you don’t want to try and then act like you care about me.”

You both walked to the door, because you knew that I the end she would do what you asked of her. “We were friends first.” You insisted. “We were friends first, Natasha, so I care. So, because we were friends first, I’ll tell you to get better. Work on yourself. Fall in love with someone else. Maybe not with two people at the same time.”

Her face was utterly pitiful. Her eyes were watering in a way you had never seen them do before, and her hands were shaking. You had seen the most of Natasha that anyone had in the entire world, yet you had never seen her so torn apart, so open. She laid it all out for you like you had been doing for her for years, and now you were finally the one to ruin the pretty picture. “Please.” 

As soft as a gentle breeze came your next word. “No.” You yanked your apartment door open, and then you were both shivering. She looked up at you, her face full of an expression of the most shattered you had seen her yet, and the part of you that still ached prayed that it would be the last time you would ever see her at all.

Your body moved on its own. It asked for one more point of contact, just one more before you deprived yourself from the person you loved the most. Your lips pressed against the crown of her head as you told yourself it was for your own good. Your eyes shut as you put your hands on her shoulders, and tears were turning spots of her red hair dark. She was shaking underneath you, crying even harder than you were. You pulled away from her and opened the door wider.

“Wish you all the best, Nat.”

She walked away, off of your porch and into the night. You shut the door.

§§

You figured that you would miss her, but it wasn’t as bad as it was in the early part of leaving. By the time you moved on, it was far past the date of the wedding and even further past your anniversary. Sometimes it still hurt to think about how your life could have been had she chosen to stay faithful, but you learned that the scenarios hurt more than they helped and stopped.

You had a steady job, could keep up with the rent on your apartment, had enough for groceries and even had spare to get your nails done if you wanted to. You were doing it all, and you were doing it well after being attached at the hip to someone else for years and years.

There was a time where you would have thought that living without Natasha would be excruciating. The first night after you stormed out and cried yourself to sleep, you were sure that it would be painful, every night without her next to you would be like a stab in the gut. But after a while, it really wasn’t.

At first, it was. You missed her terribly, and, a part of you still did. You missed the good things that happened, but you realized that the good didn’t erase the bad, and that the bad didn’t erase the good. So, after a long time of thinking about her, your stance on Natasha Romanoff wasn’t hateful, or upset, or vengeful. You barely had one.

You thought about her and saw a book that you had finished reading a long time ago. Impactful at the time you read it, of course, and it could leave a longing imprint, but it was over. You could never relive that exact moment ever again that you read her, not a good one or a bad one. The hardest, most intense part of it was over, so far behind you that you could breathe again. 

And damn, did it feel good to breathe. 

§§§

Seeing her was awkward, and it was something that came straight out of your outdated imagination. You were by yourself buying apples at the market that you always went to because you adored fresh fruit, checking for bruises on them that were never there. You were carrying four in a bag with a content look on your face, just walking around and looking at other fruits and vegetables when you felt someone’s eyes on you. You looked up.

Sam Wilson was looking right at you, his jaw a little slack as he recognized you. You hadn’t seen him since you stormed out of the compound god knows how long ago. Within seconds, your life at the tower and memories with him flashed in your head. You two would cook together side by side often, and that's where you would do most of your bonding and talking with him. Your heart clenched for a moment, and then you raised the hand that wasn’t occupied and gave him a wave and a half smile, one that you hoped told him that you weren’t angry.

You looked back to the vegetables and then at the sign on the table. Damn, that’s kind of expensive. You shrugged your shoulders and put the greens on the weighing machine anyway, and pulled the money out of your purse for it. You smiled at the vendor and left with your new bag, wiggling your eyes at the strawberry table and starting your approach. 

“Hi,” an achingly familiar voice called out while you were steps away from the table of deliciously red strawberries. You could smell them from where you were at. You turned around still, even after easily identifying who the voice belonged to. “How are you?”

She was as beautiful as ever, the top of her head under a blue ball cap and her eyebrows perfectly done. Her eyes were hidden by shades, but you didn’t need to see them to know what she was thinking. Her arms were loose at her sides, but her fingers were moving strangely, and you noticed them immediately as her nervous tick. You took in a deep breath. 

“I’m good, how about you?” You asked Natasha back, and she gave you a pained smile.

“I’m alright.”

“Oh, sweet,” you said, and then gave her a parting smile before turning towards the strawberries.

“Wait,” she called out.

You stopped and turned your head, even though you wanted more than anything to forget that you ran into her. “Yes?”

There was a moment of silence between you two, and then she took a step forward. “Are you still upset?” She asked, voice lower in volume than usual. 

You almost scoffed at her. “I’m an adult, I can’t really be sad for long or I’ll forget to pay a bill or something.”

“Can we talk?” She started, and you held up a hand.

“Let’s not open up old wounds,” you said, already knowing exactly where she was going with all of her hesitance and fiddling with her thumbs.

“I need to apologize for what happened.”

You shrugged. “I forgive you. Actually, I forgave you weeks and weeks ago. It’s okay. We can move on from it.” We need to move on from it. 

You saw your old lover’s face light up in just the slightest, but just as fast as you saw it, it was gone. Her lack of wanting to express to you didn’t hurt anymore. “We?”

“We can move on,” you repeated, “just not together.” Her face dropped at what you said, and you shrugged your shoulders. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, I fucked up.”

Yes, you did. “It’s in the past now.”

There was a pause, and you could hear your heartbeat in your ears. You wondered when your heart started to beat on its own again and not for the woman standing so close yet so far away. You wondered when you started to do anything for just yourself, and you wondered when you had stopped doing that in the first place. Her voice brought you out of your thoughts. “Is it?”

You almost had to ask her to remind you what the conversation was about. “Oh. It is,” you said gently, but your voice was still stern. “All good things must come to an end, and what we had was good. It was great, and that must have meant that we were destined to end fast.”

She shook her head slightly. “If you- if you forgive me, it doesn’t have to be over.”

“It does.” You looked at your phone and sighed. “I have to leave.”

“Okay,” She said softly after a moment, and finally took a step back. It was a small one, like her body was trying to override her brain. “Okay.”

“I’ll see you, Nat.” You saw her wince, and if you hadn’t made peace with everything, you would have, too.

She took another step back and cleared her throat, just as Sam started making his way over. She nodded at you, and you gave her a small smile, almost encouraging. Just walk away, this is the last time you’ll have to do it. “Later,” She said, her voice a little hoarse as she turned on her heel and walked right past Sam.

“Later” meant never. And you didn’t know if you were supposed to feel nothing or everything about it.

§§§

The last time you saw Natasha Romanoff was a year later, when you were holding hands with a pretty woman from an art show that you went to. She stole your heart with her work, and she turned out just as beautiful on the inside as she was with a brush, and on the outside. Her name was Julie, and she was great. She was honest. 

You really liked Julie. She wasn’t Natasha, though, and it was both refreshing and saddening, because you knew that what you felt with Natasha was a one time thing. You two had one chance to keep the bond that was seemingly inseparable and stronger than steel together, and everyone was rooting for you. And then, it just fell apart.

You knew that Natasha was your first actual love, and the only person who was ever going to be able to love you emotionally like you needed to be. The two of you were, in your mind, made for each other. If soulmates existed, Natasha would have been yours, and you would have been hers. You knew that even five years after not being with her, and while the hole in your heart wasn’t hollow, you had a feeling that a little something was always going to be cold, like a cavity that was never filled. Someone saying her name or asking about her was like chewing ice on it.

But people moved on. Just like you did. And you had moved on from the beautiful yet icy mountains of Natasha and into a soft and whimsical meadow, and that meadow was Julie. 

You were holding hands with Julie, arms swinging as you were leaving the donut shop and talking about silly things that made the both of you grin when you caught a familiar flash of red. Out of instinct, you looked over your shoulder, and what you saw made you freeze.

Natasha Romanoff was with a girl with brown skin and black hair that was glinting in the sunlight, and she wasn’t focused on the way that you and Natasha locked eyes in that moment, the moment that seemed to last years. You didn’t think you were still moving, and it certainly didn’t feel like you were taking a step, but you were. You saw her blue-green eyes blink at you, and like you were still stuck on the same wavelength after all that time, you both raised a hand and gave a timid wave, small smiles gracing the both of your faces.

You saw the girl tug lightly on Natasha’s arm, and your grin stretched. Natasha looked over at the girl, and an immediate smile, one similar but not quite the same as she used to give to you, was on her face. You turned your head forward, a light smile still on your own face as you watched it all happen in a split second.

You both kept walking.

*****

ahahaha wow, that hurt really bad actually - never doing angst again i’m a fluffy type of gal

so i’ve never done a taglist before! so i hope i’m doing it right otherwise this’ll make me look incredibly dumb-

@messuhp @username23345 @fishlikestuff @thelastavenger-3000 @grievingfortheliving @madamevirgo @dontmindmejustreading @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @sourpatchspinster @fayhar @sarcasticallywitty15 @normanijauregui

[cxplqnce]

Isaac Lahey - Deja Vu

Based on ‘Deja Vu’ by Olivia Rodrigo.

I got a few requests to do a sequel to Good Stuff, so I thought I’d write one, even though this can be read as a standalone. hope you like it!

Word Count: 1,196

Sequel to ‘Isaac Lahey - Good Stuff’.

Masterlist

Car rides to Malibu

Strawberry ice cream, one spoon for two

And trading jackets, laughing 'bout how small it looks on you,

Isaac looked happy when you saw him. He looked happy with his hand intertwined with Allison’s as they walked down the school hall. And it killed you. You were still so in love with him, remembering all the happy memories like; the car rides you used to take when you would sing along to the radio or just talk. When you would go and get ice-cream and he would offer you his jacket when you were cold, claiming that ‘werewolves don’t get cold’.

You wondered if he did any of those things with Allison.

Watching reruns of Glee, being annoying

Singing in harmony, I bet she's bragging

To all her friends, saying you're so unique,

You heard Allison talking to Lydia about her newly-formed relationship with Isaac. You heard her mention some of the things that you used to do with him that he had reused. It made your blood boil – knowing that he was sharing things with her that used to be yours. You hated that they were creating memories that you already had. Memories that made you smile then want to cry almost immediately afterward.

“He took me on a car ride to get ice-cream, basic stuff really but it was so cute! We just sang to the radio the whole way there and back and talked about the stupidest stuff.” Allison told Lydia, the pitch in her voice getting higher as she spoke fondly.

You wanted to run up to her and tell her that you had that exact same memory from six months ago.

So when you gonna tell her that we did that too?

She thinks it's special but it's all reused

That was our place, I found it first

I made the jokes you tell to her when she's with you

As soon as you heard Allison mention a specific place Isaac had taken her to, you stalked away from the girls, looking all around the school until you found Isaac talking to Scott and Stiles.

“Are you kidding me?” You snapped at him, prompting Stiles to stifle a chuckle at Isaac’s facial expression, only for him to be dragged away by Scott. “You took her to our place… My place?” You fumed. That place was special for you, it was where you used to go to cry or think and when you became close to Isaac you took him there. He was the only person you had ever taken there and the fact that he had shared that with someone else hurt like hell.

“It’s none of your business where I take my girlfriend.” Isaac argued, trying to walk away from the conversation but you stopped him.

You grabbed his arm and looked him directly in the eye, “It is when that place is mine.”

I'll bet that she knows Billy Joel ‘cause you played her Uptown Girl,

You're singing it together now I bet you even tell her,

How you love her in between the chorus and the verse,

You sat in the cafeteria pushing your food around your plate with your fork. You had tried to eat something but you just couldn’t. All you wanted was to go to your place and cry it out but it was tainted now, it wasn’t yours anymore. It was theirs.

“Y/N?” You heard from behind you. You turned around in your chair to see Allison, staring down at you with a guilty look crossing her features, “Can I sit?”

Hesitantly, you nodded, motioning for her to take the seat across from you, “Sure. What’s up?” You asked, trying not to sound too horrible.

“I wanted to apologise. I heard about your argument with Isaac, that he took me to your place. I had no idea that it was important to you or that you even showed it to him. He told me he just found it one day.” She explained. You were a little surprised; you hadn’t expected her to react like this. You half-thought she would yell at you for screaming at her boyfriend. “I’ve told him not to take me there anymore. I just wanted you to know. I’m sorry again.” She finished before leaving the table.

Hearing what Allison had told you made you angrier at Isaac but it also took away any negative feelings you had towards her.

Strawberry ice cream in Malibu

Don't act like we didn't do that shit too

You're trading jackets like we used to do

(Yeah, everything is all reused)

After thinking about the reasons you were angry with Isaac, you came to a certain conclusion. You weren’t actually angry at him. You were angry at yourself, at the situation you were in. It wasn’t his entire fault, it wasn’t yours, or Allison’s. It just so happened that the situation you were in, sucked.

You also figured out how to deal with it, how to make it better and how to get past all of the bad feelings you felt.

Play her piano, but she doesn't know (oh, oh)

That I was the one who taught you Billy Joel (oh)

A different girl now, but there's nothing new

“Why did you want me to meet you here?” Isaac asked as he approached you. You were sat on a bench at your place, staring at the view, when you turned to face him.

Patting the seat gently, you motioned for him to join you, “I really hated you, you know.” You started, as he sat down.

“That’s good to hear.” Isaac joked. “Was that it?”

You sighed, taking a deep breath. “I hated you because I wanted us to work so badly, but we didn’t and when we ended, all I could think of was the good memories - the memories that you’re now making with Allison.” You paused for a second, shoving your hands in your jacket pockets to keep them warm, “We never would’ve worked though, cause of all the bad stuff between us.”

“There was a lot of it, wasn’t there?” He added, gently nudging your shoulder.

“Yeah,” You mumbled, before you nudged him back and took another deep breath, “I still have feelings for you, Isaac… But I know that they don’t mean anything anymore. I’ll get over it eventually and all of this will be a bad memory. So, I’m going to hang onto the good stuff. No bad stuff, no hard feelings.”

Isaac smiled at your comment, “Me too.”

“Allison’s good for you, by the way.” You mentioned, before standing up from your seat, “Don’t screw it up.”

You started to walk away, leaving all the bad stuff in the past, “I won’t.” Isaac called before you disappeared from view.

I know you get déjà vu

I know you get déjà vu

As you walked through the halls of Beacon Hills High a few weeks after your heart-to-heart with Isaac, you saw him with her – holding hands and looking happy. And for the first time in a while, you weren’t sad, or angry, or disappointed.

You just felt a little sense of déjà vu.

A/N: Hope you enjoy! Follow my instagram @cxplqnce :) also I take requests if you have any - for any of the fandoms on my masterlist and some others! :)

[limenysnocket]

Call Me Home

Summary: It's in the bloom of summer and both of you are tired. It's been hopping from film to film for months, set by set, and so it's time to relax. Pick a nice shack out in the quiet and humble native lands for a night or two, and watch the stars and the fireflies flicker around the butt of your cigarette.

Warnings: Really nothing other than swearing and smoking.

Pairing: Taika Waititi x Reader

Words: 1.5k it’s a shorty, I know.

A/N: This is just something I wanted to write. It's blazing outside, and it's right around the time I wish it was night already and down to 70-something degrees. Hope y'all enjoy this random bit of fluff.

This is all based off of a sweet and sappy blues/jazz song so--

@honorarytenenbaum @olyvoyl

•○●•○●•○●•

"I'm so damn tired," Taika moans and plops himself down in a rickety, old rocking chair beside you. You were atop a small glider. It wasn't enough to completely lay down in, but it was enough to kick your feet up and watch the sun start to go down. The grass, wet from a fresh storm, was now engulfed in orange flame. The light licked all the way up the wooden steps of the porch, and to the tips of Taika's work shoes.

Taika slumped in his seat, his long legs extending out and his arms laying lazily over the arms of the chair. His eyes were closed, and he just seemed to be taking in the last of the blazing heat. "I'm glad it's over," you murmured. His head, once angled to look at the horizon, then tilted to face you. He had a goofy, soft grin.

"It's not over quite yet. There's still the editing and putting it all together, then heading right over to Hollywood for the premier and it's just... oh, man," he put his hand on his scruffy cheek and rubbed at it. He had been wearing a smile all day, whether he liked to or not, due to the mass amount of press that was at the studio doors as soon as you both were done shooting. "Yeah. At least that part is done with. Hemsworth was starting to get on my nerves at the end there."

"What? Only at the end?" you guwaffed at him and he rolled his eyes. You knew he had a thing out for Hemsworth since the beginning. The way his muscles would bulge out in his costume turned Taika jealous-- especially when he realized they would have to do editing magic on him to actually make his biceps look normal-- and that's not all. The Aussie, on occasion, would be a flirt with you, and attempt to get your attention while on set. His little advances would briefly be shut down as soon as Taika spotted him.

Ever so slowly, the cicadas crept from their hiding spots, and began to serenade the two of you from trees. It was annoying at first, and you wanted to make a suggestion to go inside, but when you looked at Taika, all you could see was how at peace he was. He had rested his elbow on the arm of the chair and his hand was cradling the side of his face. His eyes were closed again. You were almost totally sure he was asleep.

After being inside of the little shack for some time, you realized why he wanted to come out here.

The place still had tin walls, and the doorknobs were made of copper. The wooden porch was splintered and cracked, and it squealed under even the softest of touches. The rooms still had wallpaper. It was a floral pattern with a white background, but it turned yellow at the tops and bottoms, and the paper curled and wrinkled. It smelled so old. What brought Taika here again?

He was the brand new, fresh out of his own late uprising, blessing to the directing world genius that everyone wanted on set. Hollywood smothered him in love, money, and women. So much so, the paparazzi followed him around like flies to manure. As much as he loved attention, those jackasses were hard to avoid and they got annoying real quick, especially when all he wanted to do was enjoy a party or two. Indulge in a sensory overload and drown in sex for a few hours.

The notoriety had gotten to his head. He changed into someone unrecognizable...

Did he?

You looked at Taika again. His heel was gently rocking his chair back and forth. He looked so happy and content. Happier than you'd seen him in days. His dress shirt was was unbuttoned from the top two buttons, and his belt was missing. His dress shoes were scuffed and his hair was a mess. He still had his tie on, but it hung low and loose on his neck. He looked almost the same as the first day you met him. Tired and hunched over from his latest piece of fine cinema.

“Doing okay?” you break the bug song and make him open his dreary eyes. “Just checking.”

He sat up again, adjusting himself in his seat and grinning wide. “Never better,” he looked back over to you, and the porch slowly grew dim. The crickets added a melody to the tune the locust sang, and little, moving, balls of light started to emerge from the tall grass. “Why do you ask?”

“I’m curious, you know that,” you nearly whispered to him, the new breeze making you want to fall asleep on the dingy little sofa.

“Curious about what?” now he had started to ask questions too, interrupting your doze. It was pay back and concern in a bottle.

“Why did you pick this place?” you approach the topic bluntly, but calmly. “You could be staying in the fanciest hotel there is in New Zealand right now with what Marvel is paying you, but you chose an old shack instead. I want to know why.”

His lips pursed. He’s back to staring at the horizon again. “It’s just something quaint I picked. No story behind it.” He sniffed and wrapped his knuckles against the tin wall of the house. It wasn’t familiar to him. 

“Okay, so you don’t know it, but is there something that you like about it?” you asked further questions. The answers you would received would be saved in the back of your mind for later.

“I like the peace,” Taika shrugged and swatted at a little June bug. “It’s nice to get away from the cameras every once in awhile. They bother me when I don’t want them around.”

You laughed to yourself about Taika actually hating attention for once. He had always been a seeker, in your eyes. It was almost weird to see him in such a way. Actually wanting to be away. And, with you, of all people to be with. He probably just needed a little bit of company with him at all times. Just to be safe.

“That all?” you wonder. “Cause this place sure does remind me of where you shot Boy. Little town, full of little people, and one lady who has all the jobs in the whole area, Taik.”

You managed to get him to blow an amused laugh out of his nose with the reference you made to his movie. It felt like he made that thing so long ago. That was back before his hair started to go silver. “I mean, I guess it’s a little like the Boy set, and you know my connections with that place.” His commentary was a bit strained, because he was reaching for the cigarettes he kept in his back pocket. They were probably a little smooshed by now. He settled back into his seat once he was comfortable again, and sighed. “It’s like a little calling, I guess. Something, I don’t know. I like having money and all, and as a kid, nothing about this was comforting. Fuck, all I wanted to do was get out of these shit conditions with teachers that hated me, kids that hated me, and the big fucking imagination  I had kept me from seeing things straight. Here, I thought I wouldn’t amount to shit, probably because I was told that, but,” he started to pause his rant, but just to set a cigarette between his lips and nudge out his lighter from his front pocket. “I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me. I always kind of find myself wanting to come back to the bush.”

You didn’t really have to think of anything to say. You knew he didn’t want to hear much at all, but you had one question on your mind.

“How’s Hollywood been treating you, Taika?”

His head whipped around like an unstoppable force of nature. He pulled the freshly lit cigarette from his lips, eyes a little wider than you expected them to be. “You want me to be frank with you?”

“No, dipshit, I want you to be Taika with me- of course, I want you to be frank with me,” you snort, and his lips pull up just the slightest bit.

He took a moment to collect his words, his eyes flickering around like he was watching a little bug-Satan fly around his face for too long. He came to his conclusion after about a minute.

“It’s been treating me like shit, thanks for asking,” he said it in such a dopey manner, you had to smile. “It feels great to be home.”

[morimakesfanart]

Sindria's Prophet #08

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [AO3]

** TW/suicide of family member implied (it is marked ahead with ((text)) so you know what to skip) ~POV shift Mori~ In my old life I had spent 4 or so years as a historical reenactor for the mid 1700's through early 1800's on my weekends. My group mainly acted as pirates/privateers and sang sea shanties. We had done performances on different ships, but every time we were invited onto a period ship I couldn't make it, so I was geeking out when I saw the ship we'd be taking to Sindria. I prayed it didn't show on my face. Sure it was exciting for an other world's nerd like me to get to see a ship like this in use, but to everyone else it was a normal ship. The ship had two masts -both square rigged with a fore and aft sail at the back for better steering. Considering the reputation for the waters around Sindria I expected a bigger three mast ship for strength, but who was I to judge?

With only two masts, this ship probably only needed a crew of about nine people to allow for different shifts. It didn't look like it had room for many passengers. No doubt, Sinbad didn't expect to be bringing four extra people back with him. I was in full on research mode by the time I got on the ship, and I tired my best to not stand out or get in the way. Getting to look up at the rigging from on the deck was an experience. After everyone was settled I'd definitely make a point to look around more. I might even take one of the scrolls out and try drawing the deck of the ship since I never got around to drawing that gorgeous room in the hotel. I considered myself lucky that no one tried to talk to me until the rooms were being divided out -I had been hyperfixating so I might not have even noticed if they did.

Studying the ship could only boost me for so long. About 15 minutes before we left the port I could no longer ignore that my head was throbbing from exhaustion. This headache was undeniably becoming a migraine if it wasn't one already. I decided that sleep was the next thing on my agenda. Luckily, I made that decision around the same time the rooms were being divided out. I had figured I'd end up in the same room as Alibaba, Aladdin and Morgiana, but Alibaba was put in the same room as Ja'far and Masrur. Everyone put their bags down, and headed back on deck except me. I sat on my bed with my head in my hands as I started to let myself fully calm down. In the quiet it hit me just how much I had been using working on the scrolls as a way to avoid thinking about my guilt and lost home. I'd have to find time when no one else was in the room to work through these feelings. There was no way I could keep it bottled up until we reached Sindria. "Excuse me, Miss Mori?" Aladdin had re-entered the room and closed the door. We might not have been formally introduced but he was told who I was. "What is it?" I lifted my head to look at him, and tried to keep my expression positive. I felt the waves rising. A Magi was talking to a Prophet in private; something was bound to happen. The walls of the ship creaked, and I heard steps and the floor boards creak in the hallway. The wave got a little bigger. Silence hung in the air as the boy just stood there. Instead of trying to guess what he wanted I waited. His hands tightened around his staff. Aladdin looked nervous as he confronted me. "I know you say you've read Fate, but I don't think Fate is something written in stone. It's something that everyone makes together. It can always change." The hallway floor creaked behind the Magi again. The wave was getting bigger. Someone was definitely listening in, and there was only one King that was a chronic eavesdropper.

"I agree," I said bluntly. I wanted Sinbad to hear my answer. Ten years ago, he came to the conclusion that Fate was something already written as a way to cope with his guilt and trauma, and he thought he was 'the chosen one' for being able to read ahead through the waves, but he was wrong on both accounts. "You do?” Aladdin was surprised. It must sound weird coming from someone who read Fate. "I've read more than one Fate for this world, so I know there is no one true path." The manga, anime and OVAs were a little different after all. "And if Fate couldn't be changed then I couldn't be here." I turned so I was sitting facing him. "You see, I wasn't in any of the Fate I read. I wasn't even in this world until five days ago." The magi took a few steps towards me with wide eyes. Aladdin had felt very alone for not being from this world -now he would know he wasn't the only one. It wasn't a reveal that caused problems on its own when Aladdin explained in the original so I didn't see an issue in letting Sinbad overhear about me either- I had already implied as much the previous day. I felt the need to elaborated. "Everything I do changes the Fate I read because I wasn't here. For example, only one of the Fates I read showed the conversation where you all found out about the Kou Fleet. Remember how I yelled at Alibaba? If I didn't convince him to leave then King Sinbad would have knocked him out, and Alibaba would be kept asleep with medicine for this whole trip. Since I was there this time, I was able to change that." "Oh!" He brightened up a bit. "I much prefer things this way." "I agree. Like this it will be much easier for him to heal." I looked down at my intertwined hands. "I have no idea how this will change the Fate I read though." Aladdin hummed a question mark, but he didn't say or ask anything directly. I answered the obvious question to my words, "I can't read a Fate that I'm a part of, so now that I'm here I can't read how my actions are changing Fate. Eventually, the Fate I did read will become useless, and I have no idea if I'm changing it for the better." It was only as I said it that I remembered that Sinbad was listening. I had basically just told him that my usefulness as his Prophet would have a definite expiration date. All I had wanted was to let Aladdin know that he might not be able to rely on me for everything. I definitely wasn't thinking clearly. Aladdin cut into my thoughts. "Is that why the Rukh are so active around you? Because you weren't originally a part of the Flow of Fate?" "Probably." I didn't know what else to say. I knew I had to be making distinctive waves in the Rukh just by being here, let alone with all of my changes. "Miss Mori, where are you from?" I hummed in amusement at that. "I'm from much farther away than you or your parents-if you can believe it." I was from the same world as the person who wrote the original Fate of this world. There was no way I could tell anyone that. He was shocked again. It was written all over his face that he was questioning if I was really from a dimension farther away than Alma Torran. Aladdin gripped the flute that he always wore. "Then... Are you the person he didn't recognize?" "He?" Which 'he' -oh. I lowered my voice. "Ugo?" I put one finger over my lips and looked at the door. Sinbad has to remain ignorant about the Sacred Palace; he's too self-absorbed. Aladdin looked confused at my change in volume. He followed my gaze to the door and back then nodded. He didn't look all that surprised that I knew about Ugo. I kept my voice low. "Aladdin, let's talk more about this some other time. The walls have ears on such a small ship. And I'm exhausted." "Okay. Rest well, Miss Mori." Aladdin spoke at normal volume. I heard a scramble in the hallway, the magi left, and I put my glasses in the top of my bag for safe keeping. I could hear Aladdin through the wall. "Oh! Mr. Sinbad, Mr. Ja'far, did you want to check on Miss Mori too?” "Uh, yes. How is she doing?” Was King Sinbad's response. I could hear the nerves he was trying to

cover up. "Real smooth there, Sin." I mumbled as I finally drifted into unconsciousness. --- I was a young man of 20 some years. I had started a family. We didn't have enough money for food. I ended up taking a risky job because I knew it would pay better. ... No. I'm a six year old girl? I don't remember if I had parents, but I remember going to visit this old dog every day. ... If life was hard, and I had nothing to loose then there was no reason not to bet everything I had on one last round. How could I return to my family without money? The last time I saw my son he was three. Would he even remember me? ... Ya know, when you grow up with someone and everyone else can see your chemistry you'd think it would be obvious that we'd marry when we grew up, but she met someone else. ... I knew things were bad, but I never even considered that my neighbor was stealing from me when I was at work. Bastard stabbed me with my own kitchen knife when I caught him. --- I wasn't myself in my dreams. Every time I woke I had to ground myself and remember where and when I was. Rereading the scrolls I had made helped. Just how many Rukh had merged with me, and why? I had no connections to any of those spirits while they were alive. Was it just because ghosts like me? I wrote down every dream I had; their lives might have been over, but they were a part of me now. I was too exhausted to go on deck, and I could feel that there were still more lives inside of me that I had to get aquatinted with. When I wasn't sleeping, I was working on scrolls again since I at least had enough energy to write and draw. My breathing was getting difficult, and I was struggling with temperature regulation. I wasn't okay enough to tell if it was my body struggling with the changes in my magoi, like when Sinbad took in all the Rukh after the Fall of First Sindria, or if I was just sick. After making sure I could still use magoi manipulation I decided that it was probably the later. I mainly left that room for food, and I waited until almost everyone was done before going. I avoided talking to others too. If I was sick I needed to minimize my contact with others. Alibaba seemed to be in a similar state to me. We both found that staying near each other when around the others made them less likely to approach us with the depressing cloud that hung over us.

Those that did see me could obviously tell I was unwell. From their words it seemed like they were assuming I was just mourning -they were only half wrong. It gave me an easy excuse to leave, so I never corrected them. I did feel bad for worrying everyone. The whole situation sucked. I wanted to cry. I had been in lock down back home because of Covid-19 for 8 months as an at risk person (it's still Oct 2020 in this story). I was literally in a fantasy anime world now. I wasn't given a better immune system, but my boobs didn't need a bra anymore??? WTF?? If the current arbiter of Fate was me writing fanfiction, then they had a lot of explaining to do. ... Who was I kidding? I knew why I would write something like this. I wanted to see more stories about people like me -someone with my disabilities and life experiences- get to be someone "valued" even if they couldn't be on the front lines. My migraine wouldn't go away, and it wasn't the only part of me in pain. I think I got palpitations a few times -breathing was even worse during those episodes. If I hadn't had health problems growing up I probably would have been panicking. I knew it was stupid to not tell anyone what was going on with me. But would anyone even be able help me on a ship? Telling them would just make them worry more than they already were. Aladdin and Morgiana could tell something more was wrong with me; I couldn't fully hide from them while sleeping in the same room. They must have let the others know since they gave me some pain killers at some point. It tasted awful. I'm honestly not sure how affective it was, but it did knock me out. ((Skip to the next paragraph to avoid the trigger)) At least I was left alone most of the time. I had no choice but to sit with my thoughts about Balbadd. I grew up mourning. The blood on my hands might not be the same as losing most of my loved ones back home, but it was damn similar to when I was in high school thinking "if only one of us had answered the phone that day." The Balbadd revolt would have been much worse if I wasn't there. And even if I had said something sooner there was little that could be done to actually stop Al Thamen when they had their hands so deep in that country. Even with Sinbad there to sway Fate, Al Thamen would still find a way to spill blood. Even if I told Alibaba days in advance and he tried to talk to Cassim about it, Cassim wanted nothing to do with Sinbad, so any help that came from him would be refused. Cassim was twisted around Issnan's fingers and out for blood. I did the best I could. My actions did save some people. I'd have to take solace in that. --- I woke up to something wrapped around me, almost like I was tied down. I couldn't move my legs. I gave up trying to untangle my skirt and covers from me, and just pulled the skirt out from under the cloth belt -kicking the whole mass off like a cocoon. I had put my underwear on underneath and I still had the tunic on so I wasn't left totally uncovered. Star light shown in from the window. I had slept through another day. I couldn't remember my dream. Maybe I had finally returned to having my own dreams. The other beds in the room were occupied. My head was still swimming. I felt trapped. I needed something. I heard the waves outside, and felt the waves of Fate washing over me. Their sounds called to me. Back home I had used the sounds of waves to meditate and stim regularly. I had been hearing them all this time, but I wanted to see them. I didn't bother to slip on my flip-flops as I made my way to the door, didn't even think about grabbing my glasses until I was already on deck. It had been so dark below that I couldn't see anyway, and didn't realize I wasn't wearing them. The wave of Fate I had been following lead me farther into the space. When I hit it's end, the adrenaline that had got me that far died out. The night air hit my legs and I shivered. It was colder than it was at night in Balbadd. I thought we were heading south. Did I still have a fever? The cold reminded me that I really should have put on

my shorts or something before coming out here. The tunic just barely covered me. My vision was going grey scale. This was bad. Really bad. I recognized this feeling. I was about to pass out from not being able to breathe right. I used to have fainting spells as a kid because of my weak raspatory system and needed to carry smelling salts for a few years. The last time it happened was about five years ago -I had been really sick. My head was throbbing; my heart was pounding. Guess I was sicker than I thought. I needed to focus on breathing and getting to the ground. I stumbled to the bowsprit (the pole that sticks out the front of the ship) as support. I needed to get to the ground safely before I collapsed. I'd gotten a concussion once because I didn't get down before the black out hit. A wave crashed into me from behind. If I hadn't been putting all my weight on that wooden shaft I would have been pushed over even though it wasn't a physical wave. What in the world was behind me that would cause such a wave? I removed one arm to look back as my knees started to give out. There was definitely someone there. Their color balance didn't match anything I could remember, but they were really familiar. Without my glasses I couldn't really tell anything -especially since everything was becoming different shades of black. And I already had bad night vision. The light was fading. Shapes were getting harder to discern. Even though I was breathing deeper I hadn't managed to counter the fainting spell. I was going down. I definitely fell, but it didn't feel like I fell for long enough to hit the ground. The feeling across my back was really familiar. Someone had caught me.

Sometimes I was able to stay conscious when I fainted. It was kinda like ending up in sleep paralysis but with a -20 to all sensory inputs. Seemed like this was one of those times. I couldn't hear what they were saying or see them. It was like my head was deep under water. There was a pressure on my forehead. Were they checking my temperature? When someone faints you're supposed to lay them on the ground and position them so they can breath easier. This person didn't take first aid classes or forgot or something because I was being lifted upwards instead of laid down. It was really warm and comfy though. I liked this feeling. What was it? Safe? Was that it? I hadn't felt actually safe in a long time. I certainly didn't feel safe in that house back home even after everything was over. Maybe it was the feeling of warmth and safety. Maybe it was the way the waves were moving. Maybe it was the numbness that comes with blacking out. But whatever it was had stopped the pain. With the pain gone I calmed the rest of the way. I felt my spine straighten out onto a soft surface. The warmth faded even though something was now covering my legs. I was in a bed. The cold was back without a source of warmth to leech from. I definitely had a fever if I was this cold. Damnit. I grew up with all sorts of chronic health conditions and have always gotten sick easily. Even though I was now in an anime world, I was still me. Was I going to die in this world from some common illness that was already cured back home? We might not have had a lot of money back home but I was lucky enough to get a job with usable health insurance that let me work from home during a pandemic. I could at least get medicine every time I got a normal illness. I was finally able to afford to get and keep an inhaler. Not that any of that was of use to me now. My motor functions were returning. I rolled to the side and curled into the fetal position. I had lost everything. No home. No friends or family. Who would want to look after a stranger with nothing to give back? I was doing what I could to seem worthy of the main cast, but how long would that last? The story would reach its end in five years. What would I do after that? What was the point of all of the savings I had managed to make back home if I was going to be Isekaied? I had been the main bread winner and now my family couldn't even use my savings because I hadn't left a body behind as proof that I had died. All of the thoughts and feelings I was still running from were flooding through me. I couldn't even distract myself with writing scrolls or anything. This was probably for the best. Pushing things away for much longer would be unhealthy. And if I couldn't let myself feel miserable when I was sick and alone, then when could I? I let the tears fall. I hadn't been a loud crier since I was a kid, so I was caught off guard when I could hear my own sobs. I didn't have it in me to hide any more. The bed I was on creaked but I hadn't moved. There was a new weight on the mattress.

I wasn't alone.

The concept that someone was checking on me hurt harder. I didn't grow up in a healthy environment, so now feel immense guilt when someone shows me genuine kindness. But I am also aware and recovered enough to know I deserve kindness, so the guilt always paired with an equal amount or more of relief. I felt a hand stroke my hair. They wanted to comfort me. And I wanted comfort. The waves washing over me encouraged me seek out more. I used what little strength I had to pull myself against them. Having undeniable proof that I wasn't alone and that someone cares was overwhelming. The relief made me cry harder. I'd have to thank them later. But for the time being I'd pour out as much emotion as they'd let me.

[bestillmyslashyheart]

for @caitlesshea and @iwontbeyourmedicine

Maria knew it was the right thing to do, no matter how much it hurt. She loved Michael and she knew Michael loved her but their relationship wasn’t sustainable. It was better to end things now rather than wait until they hated each other.

Except Michael clearly didn’t agree with her. “I can do better,” he pleaded, his eyes shining.

Maria shook her head. “No, Michael, no. You were great. You-” she huffed a little laugh, “you were the best of me.” The next words are on her lips, spilling out before she could catch them. “You are the best of me.”

Michael inhaled sharply even as his face brightened. Maria’s heart flipped. “What did you just say?” He asked, his voice soft with wonder.

Maria’s mouth opened and closed. She didn’t know what to say. She hadn’t meant to let the words come out. Not when she knew what they meant. Not when she wasn’t sure she wanted to find out if they meant what she hoped they did.

“Maria,” Michael beamed. He rose out of his seat and leaned over her in the bed, his hands cupping her face gently. “Maria you said my words.” He kissed her deeply, her aborted attempt at breaking up with him apparently forgotten.

Maria let him, his joy contagious as her heart sang. She’d said Michael’s words. They were soulmates.

It was meant to be.

---

Alex doesn't believe in soulmarks. If he did, he’d hate them.

The physical reality of them is impossible to ignore – the mark is undeniably there, inscribed across his skin – but he can't think of them as anything other than ridiculous.

Because they don't mean anything, not really. They're not the first words, or the last words, or even the most important words, but just something that someone, somewhere might say to you. If you're lucky enough to meet them, that is, and most people aren't, because that someone lives on the other side of the world, they don't take that one, fateful call, or they look to the left when they should have looked right.

And even then, most of the marks spell out inanities, mundane greetings and hackneyed phrases that their bearer might hear a hundred times in a day, never mind a lifetime, but those who have met their soulmate insist that it sounds and feels different when spoken by their other half, although no-one's ever been able to explain how to Alex’s satisfaction. 

There have been hundreds of studies performed by universities and hospitals and research institutions, measuring heart rates and brainwaves, hormone fluctuations and endorphin levels, but the results are never conclusive and nothing's ever been proven. He's meant to take it on faith that the words are meaningful, but Alex just can't. He can't believe that there's some mystical, unknowable force out there, playing cryptic matchmaker. Once, he’d let himself believe in the magic of it all but that time was long past. 

Which is why he didn’t let it hurt him when Isobel mentioned that Maria had said Michael’s words. Because they didn’t mean anything. 

It didn’t mean anything that he’d used to trace them while Michael slept, his finger curving over the letters imprinted behind Michael’s ears, the words covered by his curls so no one else got to see them. It didn’t mean anything that Alex had put those words in his song on the off chance that-

It didn’t mean anything.

---

“Don’t judge me, okay?” Forrest laughed. Alex felt himself smiling in return. Forrest shot him a wink before turning around and pulling his pizza out of the oven. “I made a cheese too,” he tossed over his shoulder. “Just to be safe.” Alex saw the other pizza sitting on the rack as Forrest moved his precious concoction over to the counter. You might have thought it was made of gold with how carefully he was handling it. 

Forrest left the oven door open as he dug around for a pizza cutter and Alex hip checked him out of the way as he fished the other pizza out and closed the oven door. It was their third date and Alex had suggested going for pizza, not anticipating Forrest inviting him over for the homemade variety. He had to admit it was nice, moving around each other in Forrest’s kitchen. They weren’t quite cooking together, Forrest having taken care of that before Alex showed up, but the camaraderie was there as Alex searched the cabinets for plates and glasses. 

“Ok,” he said when he had everything ready, “show me the monstrosity.” 

“Hey now,” Forrest chided, laughing, “I said you weren’t allowed to judge me.”

“You also said everyone else you’ve ever eaten pizza with hates it so…” Alex trailed off.

Forrest shrugged, unconcerned, and stepped away from the counter. He waved a hand over the perfectly cut pizza and let Alex look at it unencumbered. The crust looked perfectly cooked and the cheese was enticing but it was the combination of pineapple, ham, anchovies, and mushrooms on top that captured his attention. Alex stared at it for long enough that Forrest reached for it. “This is why I made a cheese,” he told him.

Alex reached out and snatched the pizza from his grasp and pulled it close. “I’m sure you and the cheese will be very happy together.” Forrest furrowed his brow for a moment before his expression cleared.

“Alex…?”

“I get this one.” It wasn’t his favorite combination of toppings, sure, but it was up there. Alex had never met someone who liked the same toppings as him.

“Alex,” Forrest sighed in amazement. “You like it?” His lips turned up in a slow smile.

“I think it’s amazing,” Alex corrected.

“I haven’t eaten it yet,” Alex reminded him.

“But you don’t think it’s disgusting?”

“Oh my god,” Forrest wondered. “We’re like two halves of one crazy messed up whole. No one likes my- Alex?” 

Alex felt all the blood drain from his face. There was no way Forrest could have known those words. They hadn’t had sex yet, he hadn’t seen them. Even if he had, half of the words were gone now…

“Alex?” Forrest asked again, worry evident in his voice.

“Those are my words,” Alex confessed quietly. He hadn’t felt any different, at least he didn’t think he had, but the chances of Forrest saying his exact words were astronomically low. “We’re like two halves of one crazy messed up whole,” Alex repeated. “Those are my words.”

Forrest lit up. “Really?” Alex nodded. Forrest took one large step across the kitchen and swept him into a kiss.

“It’s you,” Forrest said wondrously when they pulled apart. “It’s you.”

---

Michael thought it would feel different. He’d always decried the concept of soulmates but secretly he loved the idea of them, of someone out there who was meant for him in every way. Someone who would love him forever. 

He loved Maria. And she’d said his words, despite only knowing half of them. She was his soulmate.

So why wasn’t it better? Why wasn’t it good?

They fought all the time. It had been months since she said his words and took back her attempt at ending their relationship and Michael thought they might have spent more of that time fighting with each other than they did being happy. Maria was insistent on pursuing her alien heritage even as it killed her and she was forcing Michael to stand back and watch and he hated it. But she hated it every time he tried to do something about it so they were stuck at an impasse. 

It didn’t help that Forrest had said Alex’s words. The man was around a lot more than Michael was comfortable with and that little secret hadn’t stayed quiet very long. Even worse than seeing Forrest Long’s face everywhere he went was the fact that Alex didn’t look happy. He hid it well, but there was a tightening around his eyes and a stiffness to his shoulders that betrayed him. Alex was unhappy. And Michael didn’t have any right to do anything about it anymore. He hadn’t for a long time now. 

It came to a head at another Open Mic Night, fittingly enough. Michael hadn’t planned on going but Maria had had to cancel a date when one of her bartenders called out so he drove over to the Pony and set up at the bar, as far away from the stage as he could get. A night full of terrible music wasn’t his idea of a fun night but he and Maria hadn’t really seen each other in a week and he was making an effort, okay?

He wasn’t expecting Alex to get on stage.

He really wasn’t expecting him to start singing that song, either. 

---

Alex started singing and Maria stopped to listen. She’d heard about his song from her regulars and her staff but she hadn’t had the chance to hear it for herself so she stepped back from the bar and just listened.

It didn’t take very long for her to realize who the song was about. She cut a glance over at Michael’s seat at the end of the bar. He wasn’t looking at Alex but he was so clearly not looking at Alex that it was somehow more obvious that it was all he wanted to do.

At one point he closed his eyes and turned towards the stage, like he was a compass and Alex was true north and he couldn’t help himself.

Wish I found the words when we were seventeen

You were the best of me

You are the best of me

Maria heard the words and knew immediately that Alex knew what they were. He didn’t write them by accident.

But she barely had a moment to process that thought before Michael stole all of her attention. He’d jolted off of his stool when Alex finished, his eyes wide as he stared across the room at Alex. His left hand went to his ear, fingers tracing the letters Maria knew to be imprinted behind it.

Maria watched as a hundred emotions flitted across his face before settling on determination. He turned towards her, an apology in his eyes and she knew. 

“Yeah,” she sighed as she walked over to him. “This makes more sense,” she confessed.

“Maria…”

She waved him off. Alex and Forrest walked past them towards the door and she jerked her head in their direction. “What are you waiting for? Go.”

Michael spared her another apologetic glance before he was gone.

---

“You were amazing,” Forrest gushed as the doors slammed closed behind him. The noise from the bar was cut off and they were left with the stillness of the night air. “Better than the first time, for sure.”

Alex fiddled with his keys and didn’t look at him. “Thanks.”

Forrest bit back a sigh. They’d started off well but things had changed once Forrest said Alex’s words. He would have expected things to get even better, for their relationship to move forward, but that hadn’t happened. It was like they’d stalled out. If it weren’t for the words, Forrest might have ended things already and he suspected Alex felt the same, but it was hard to deny the mark of destiny so they dug their heels in and dragged it out.

Noise filled the air as the doors banged open. “Alex!” 

Forrest and Alex turned in unison to see Michael Guerin barreling towards them. Forrest hadn’t spent much time with the man but he knew he and Alex had a past and they shared many of the same friends. “Guerin,” he greeted when Alex said nothing.

Michael ignored him completely, his feet carrying him all the way to Alex without pause. He cupped Alex’s face in his hands and Alex didn’t stop him, his only movement being to drop his keys and grab Michael’s hand.

“We are so fucking stupid,” Michael smiled. 

“What are you-” Alex started to say before Michael cut him off.

“We’re like two halves of one crazy messed up whole.”

Alex dropped his guitar. And Forrest knew.

“You put it in the song,” Michael added nonsensically. 

“Yeah, well,” Alex replied weakly. His voice was soft with wonder and disbelief. “Took a little longer than I anticipated but it worked.”

Forrest wasn’t sure which one of them moved first but in the next breath they were kissing, the two of them colliding less than a foot away from him. 

It was almost like they fused together, the two of them becoming one being right in front of him. The return of the noise had him looking back over at the entrance to find Maria DeLuca, Alex’s friend who, up until a minute ago, Forrest thought was Michael’s soulmate. She had a strange look on her face as she watched Alex and Michael and Forrest wandered over to her. “So,” he greeted.

“So,” she shot back with a smile. “It makes more sense that it’s them,” she allowed.

“It does,” Forrest agreed. They stood in silence for a moment watching the two men. “Doesn’t mean this doesn’t suck just a little bit, thought.”

Maria laughed sharply, the sound startled out of her. “Did they really just start making out right in front of you?”

“I don’t think Guerin even noticed I was there,” Forrest replied. “And Alex definitely forgot as soon as Guerin said his words.”

“You want a drink?” Maria offered. Her eyes cut back over to the two men who, Forrest checked, were still making out. Forrest wasn’t sure they’d stopped to take a breath yet.

“Please.”

---

It was strange, waking up in Alex’s house. Michael had been here before but he’d never been allowed to wake up here. And definitely not with Alex still sleeping next to him.

Sunlight streamed in through a crack in the curtains and Michael swore Alex glowed with it. That could just be the love talking, though.

Alex barely stirred as Michael tossed off the blanket and the sheet, baring them both to the cool air. Michael shifted towards the foot of the bed and pulled Alex’s right leg into his lap.

The letters stared up at him, we’re like two halves of one. The rest of the sentence was gone but Michael didn’t need to see it to remember what it said. He’d had the words carved into his memory from the very first time he’d read them. Once, he almost said them out loud but he hadn’t wanted to tempt fate. There was no rhyme or reason to the marks. If he’d read it out loud to Alex when they were 17 it probably wouldn’t have done anything. They weren’t meant to know then.

A hand brushed his hair back and away from his ear. Michael glanced up to Alex staring at him, his thumb reaching down to trace the cursive letters scrawled along his hairline. “I didn’t think it would work,” Alex said softly. “The song. It’s not supposed to work if you say them because you read them.”

Michael leaned down and pressed a kiss along Alex’s words before crawling up the bed to lay next to him. “Screw that ‘supposed to’ crap,” he muttered. “We’d never have figured it out if we hadn’t already known.”

Alex raised an eyebrow. “Really? You think so?”

“Alex,” Michael sighed. “We’ve known the words since we were 17 and it still took us 12 years.”

Alex shrugged as if to say ‘fair enough’. He carded a hand through Michael’s hair and bared the other ear to his eyes. He leaned forwards and Michael ducked his head enough so Alex could brush his lips across you are the best of me. 

“I can’t believe I thought it was Maria,” Michael admitted. “When I heard you say it was like the words were on fire, like they were warming me up or something. There was nothing when Maria said it.”

“Yeah,” Alex agreed. “Same with Forrest. I just didn’t think there was any chance of someone else saying them so…”

Michael closed the tiny gap between them and kissed Alex softly. “They’re my words,” he told Alex. “No one else’s.” 

Alex ran his thumbs over the words on both sides of Michael’s head. “Likewise.”

[parkersanders]

Just Other Years - Chapter Twenty-One

[Silence and Duality Chapter One]

First | Previous | Next

Warnings: Mentions of blood

Word Count: 1,951

A/N: The sign of a true fanfic writer are year-long gaps in updates, right? Anyway, because of the sheer time that this fic has been updating, I've made a lot of changes to the originally planned timeline. The fic is going to end in the next few chapters instead of the original longer timeline that was planned. I think it's better this way though. So prepare for the climax that is approaching lol!

———————————————————

Things have been...okay. They've been okay in a way that parker isn't used to. He kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. It had to, one way or another, right? But he was doing his best to stay positive. It was hard to do that considering his role, but...

"Earth to Parker," Roman sang.

Parker blinked a few times and looked over his shoulder at Roman. He looked forward again and moved the dish he was washing into the other sink to be rinsed off. "Uh. Did you need something?"

"You were standing there idly for five minutes," Roman said. He leaned against the counter, watching Parker. Parker's skin prickled and his ears burned with embarrassment at being scrutinized. "I was worried something was wrong."

"Oh. No. No, everything's fine," Parker promised. "Just lost in thought."

Roman laughed. His warm laugh put Parker more at ease. "That's supposed to be my job."

Parker chuckled back, though sounds a bit more uneasy. "I guess I'm taking over." Roman didn't laugh at that, and when Parker glanced at him, he had a more contemplative look on his face. "Um...I'm--I'm joking."

"I know!" Roman looked up and nodded. "Of course I know." He moved to Parker's other side and picked up a towel, starting to dry off the dishes that had been rinsed. "Virgil mentioned that you two talked."

Parker nodded. "We did. It was--It was really nice. I think we came to a nice conclusion. It...felt less hostile." He smiled a bit. "It was just nice."

Roman smiled. "I'm glad. It's nice seeing you two get along for once."

"It's nice to get along." 

They worked in silence for a while. It was right when Parker was feeling comfortable in the silence together that Roman spoke again, asking, "Has Thomas seemed weird to you lately?"

"How so?" Parker scrubs at some food stuck to a knife before he holds it out to Roman to clean.

"He's seemed sad."

Parker flinched and dropped the knife. Roman hissed and his hand yanked back. Parker clapped a hand over his mouth in silent shock as Roman fumbled for a fresh rag to press against the cut. "Are--Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah," Roman said weakly. "A little cut is nothing to me." He winced and sucked in a breath. "Gotta be more careful."

"Um. Yeah." Parker chewed his lip tightly. "I--I can finish the dishes. You should go, um...take care of that...?"

Roman nodded, seeming a bit eager to be in agreement. "Um. I can--talk to you another time?" He smiled weakly and took a shaky breath. He then added, "I'm okay."

Parker didn't believe that at all, but he nodded anyway. Roman left and Parker looked down at the knife left in the sink. There were a couple drops of blood on the knife that blended with the water droplets. He sighed and hung his head as he leaned against the counter.

Thomas had been having a hard time with several things lately. He wasn't getting callbacks for the things he auditioned for. He was having a couple issues with friends. It was getting to Thomas, and so of course it was getting to the rest of the sides. parker felt anxious all the time and he felt like crying for even more times than that. But he knew that the others didn't want Thomas to be upset. If they knew that Parker was directly causing it, then--well--

No. No no. Things were different. They weren't angry at him and they would never put him back there. Parker took a few shaky breaths, trying to calm himself down so he wouldn't act irrationally. When he felt steady enough, he continued cleaning the dishes, making extra sure that he set the dishes down carefully and didn't handle them clumsily.

When Parker was finished, he left to try and find Roman. On his way to Roman's room, he heard soft humming coming from Logan's room. The door was open a bit, so Parker peeked inside. Logan was seated at his desk, hunched over a book and writing things down while he occasionally looked at one of his word flash cards.

Parker hesitated before he knocked on the door. Logan looked over at him. "Ah, Parker. Come in."

Another beat of pause passed before Parker stepped over the threshold into Logan's room. He walked over to the desk. "What are you working on?"

Logan smiled proudly. "I'm glad you asked." He held his hands out to the journal he was writing in. "This is my thoughts journal. I keep all of my research in here, as well as an in-depth record of my word system and fun facts that I can use to try and really drill down into Thomas's brain so he can learn useful information that can be applied to everyday life."

"That's cool," Parker said softly. He tilted his head, getting a better look at the cover of the journal. There were a few stickers pasted haphazardly on the cover. Parker smiled. "...is that the same journal that you had when Thomas was a kid?"

Logan hummed and closed the book so he could admire the cover. "It is," he admits. "I've been using it since we were children. I can just keep adding pages. It feels..." Logan grasped the air like he was trying to physically pluck the word that he was thinking of out of the air. "...nice?" He shook his head, looking unsatisfied with the word. "But I cherish the book. It is one of my oldest possessions."

Parker smiled and leaned over the desk to look at the stickers a bit closely. "I think I remember us putting the stickers on this."

Logan laughed and nodded. He took a sip of water from the glass he kept on his desk and set it down. "I believe it was Roman's idea to put the stickers on it. I was so upset that day." His fingers traced over the stickers with admiration. "But I think that it was a good decision. I wouldn't change that they were here." His eyes squinted and he pursed his lips. "Which sticker was yours?"

"The bird," Parker chuckled. He pointed to the bird half-covered by another sticker. "I was upset when Patton put his cookie sticker over mine, but then Roman told me that my bird was strong and would just fly out from under the cookie when it wanted to. Just--ZIP!" He flung his hand to one side like Roman always did when he explained the bird's flight pattern to Parker.

Unfortunately, this time around, there was a glass of water on the desk. When Parker's hand smacked into it, it overturned, spilling water all over the desk.

"No!!" Logan shouted and Parker let out a gasp. Logan snatched up the notebook, but it was already soaked.

Parker lifted the cup up, but didn't know what to do for the water. He certainly didn't know what to do for the notebook that Logan clutched in trembling hands. Parker could only helplessly stare and hold the cup tight against his chest. "Um..How...I can help, I-"

"You always make such a mess," Logan hissed, looking at the notebook whose pages were already curling and warping with the water.

Parker took a couple steps back, not knowing how to respond to that.

"I heard yelling," Patton said breathlessly, appearing at the door. "Logan are you alright-?"

"Parker, get out," Logan said stiffly. Parker struggled to speak but Logan repeated, "Get out. I." He sucked in a deep breath. "I don't want to snap at you."

Parker looked to Patton helplessly. Patton looked equally lost and just shrugged a bit. "Give him his space for a while, kiddo," he said softly. 

His stomach twisted at that, but he did as was told and moved out of the room. He breathed uneasily as he walked down the hall, still gripping the glass tightly in his hand. He tried to take deep breaths. He needed to calm down. But everything felt like too much and blood pounded in his ears and he felt like he was going to find himself back behind those walls.

Virgil passed Parker in the hallway, but he stopped and looked back. "Hey. Parker." Parker stopped but didn't turn towards him. "Uh. You good?" Virgil walked back up to him. "You look like you're going to shatter that glass."

"Um." Parker's mouth was dry as cotton. He tried to lick his lips, but there was no moisture. "I, ah, upset Logan. It was an accident."

"Ah. I'm sure it's fine," Virgil said. "Logan gets it."

Parker shrugged weakly. "He seemed really--really upset." He looked down at the floor. "...I think he's also still. Still upset about. Y'know. Everything."

Virgil considered that before he shrugged and nodded. "Yeah. Probably. I don't know if any of them really like--move past anything, you know?"

Parker looked at Virgil, feeling an uneasiness stirring in his stomach. "...yeah?"

"Yeah. We hold grudges. It's who we are. It's who Thomas is." Virgil shrugged. "It'll be alright. Don't worry too much."

Virgil slipped on his headphones and continued on his way. Parker stared after him, feeling his heartrate pick up in speed again. 

He looked forward and continued to his room. It was hard to breathe and he felt like he was going to pass out. He leaned against the door and let himself sink down to the ground. He breathed heavily and shut his eyes tightly. Breathe carefully. Count. Calm down. Parker's body wouldn't listen to any of his commands. He could only think of the fury in Logan's voice. The way he destroyed this precious thing that Logan loved. How he hurt Roman, and the blood that dripped into the sink. The stupid nightmare scene he'd thrown at Roman as punishment. All of their punishments, and how foolish he was, and how much he hurt them. They could never forgive him for that. Why would they ever forgive him?

Parker opened his eyes slowly and stared up at the ceiling. The mural was almost completed, full of colors and pretty shapes. He hadn't shown the full thing to any of the sides yet. It didn't matter anymore. They would never appreciate it. It was a hollow gesture. Parker just pretending that they were all happy, and they were accommodating him. They were afraid of him. If he got upset then he would hurt them again. Of course that's what they believed. It's why Roman wouldn't speak ill of him when he got hurt, why Logan didn't want to snap at him, why Patton just gave him that pitiful smile and tried to send him on his way. Only Virgil was honest with him. They all held grudges. Virgil held a grudge too. Parker was never actually going to be forgiven by any of them.

He stood up and walked over to the mural. He stared up at it, feeling sick the more he looked at it. He couldn't lie in bed and smile up at those shapes anymore. He couldn't act like it was an accurate reflection of any of this.

He picked up a can of black paint. Parker gritted his teeth and threw it up at the ceiling. The paint soared out of the can and splattered against the ceiling, smearing against all of the colors and leaving it a dripping stain of black. That's all that Parker was. He was making Thomas sad, he was harming the other sides. He was a horrible black stain that was consuming everything around him the longer he was around. He had to fix that.

[rkorlov]

Harmonies (JATP fanfic) Part 2

{1st chapter.} {Wattpad link.}

Summary: Julie and the Phantoms get a proposal that’s huge. In the meantime, Julie has to deal with Carlos knowing about the boys.

Word count: 1936

                                        Chapter 2, Brand New

Flynn approached Julie in the hallway, the girl had a huge smile and was letting no one forget Julie and the Phantoms had played the Orpheum. It had been a couple nights, people still congratulated her when they saw her and whispered big things were coming their way. Julie wasn’t sure of anything, she was far more concerned about the boys now, she didn’t know if Caleb was coming back, the boys had no idea what their unfinished business could be and deep down, she was sure she didn’t want to say goodbye to them. Not now, not after she started playing again, after she enjoyed herself on stage and had a great time. Not now that she felt genuinely happy.

“Let me guess, you were lost into smiley land and that’s why you weren’t picking up your phone last night.”

“Luke and I were writing a song and after that I had dinner and went straight to bed. I saw your message first thing.”

“Uuuh, so we’re gonna have new music.” Flynn said, excited. Julie hated to disappoint her in that moment.

“I don’t think we will be singing this one… it’s quite personal for both of us.”

Flynn shook her head, and leaning on the lockers, looked at Julie. “Oh boy, no way of saving you from this one, is there? Writing love songs pretty much seals your fate.” She got close for an inch and made sure no one else heard. “What about Nick and the flowers?”

“He knows I like someone else, the flowers were just because he enjoyed the show. As long as he can’t tell is Luke who I like, then it’s alright.”

“Oh girl, we’re past from that, everyone can tell it’s him. Actually, you’re so lucky people can only see him when you’re singing because otherwise you’d be selling yourselves over.” She shrugged. “I’m still so surprised you’ve got no problem sharing those looks while your dad’s on the audience.”

Julie fell in complete silence and felt how her heart was in panic. She forgot about the rest of the world when that happened, no question why her father wanted to meet the boys. No wonder why he spent the weekend asking for the boy with the guitar. She was thankful none of the boys were around while that conversation happened. It’s safe to say it was uncomfortable, but Julie hadn’t thought of the fact that maybe everyone could see the same she saw.

“Maybe we do have to tone it down a little, huh?” Out the corner of her eye, Julie thought she was hallucinating.

Carrie walked towards them, for the first time she was all alone, displaying a smile on her face. A smile directed at them? Maybe that was the day of reckoning and everyone needed to get their apocalypse gear out, right? There was no other explanation.

“Julie! Right the person I was looking for.” She looked at Carrie with furrowed eyebrows and pointed at herself with a twitch of her lip. Since when that was a thing that happened? “Yes you, my father is putting up a show, we saw you the other night at the Orpheum, and he wanted to invite you and your Phantoms to perform. Dirty Candy is gonna be there, too.”

“Oh, that’s…” she was at a loss for words. “That’s very kind of your dad. I…”

“You’re gonna think about it?”

“Sure thing, I’ll let you know.” Carrie walked away and Flynn turned towards Julie with enough of a surprised expression to last for a day. “What just happened?”

“You tell me! Since when is Carrie… nice?”

But that was not what Julie had in mind. What she thought about was Carrie’s dad being in the audience of the Orpheum. Trevor, Trevor Wilson, the guy she thought introduced her to rock. The guy who used Sunset Curve’s songs, Luke’s lyrics, was at the audience of the Orpheum. He saw them perform and what if… what if he recognized the boys? There was no way he didn’t recognize his old bandmates.

“We may have a bigger problem than Carrie being nice!”

A quiet sound of guitar riffs came from the studio. Julie opened the door to see Alex at the drums, Reggie standing beside him tuning in his bass and Luke, playing chords on his guitar while he lay on the couch.  She thought during the entire day how to break the news to them, coming to the conclusion there wasn’t really a good way of doing so. The boys would freak out the moment she opened her mouth.

“Hey, guys… so, I kinda have good and not so good news.”

“Let me guess, let me guess!” Reggie said. “You were bringing us pizza but then you remembered we can’t eat.”

Julie chuckled and shook her head. “Not exactly. The good news is we have a gig opportunity…”

Luke didn’t let her finish. He jumped on his feet and walked to her. “That’s amazing news, we’re so ready for it. When is it?” A happiness she hated to let down.

“Let me give you the complete information first…” she held up a finger towards Luke. He stared down at her signalling for her to continue. “Carrie’s dad was at the show at Orpheum, seems like he liked our music so he’s inviting us to a show he’s throwing.”

“You mean BOBBY?” Luke blurted out, as if Julie had managed to insult him deep.  She nodded. Luke turned towards the boys and shook his head. “No way, we’re not going.”

“I don’t know, it could be a great opportunity…” Alex threw, shrugging.

“He stole our songs and never gave us any credit. Why would we perform at a show with him?” Luke gestured with his hands, letting down his guitar. Julie had learnt to recognize pretty fast when he was upset, physically he was impossible not to read.

“That’s not the bad news, though.” She said, calling for Luke’s attention. Maybe making him pay attention would help. “He’s the only person from your past that saw you and what if he recognized you, guys? What if he has something to say and this is a great moment to say something.”

“We can totally try and talk to him.” Reggie suggested.

“Exactly how, genius? The only person who can see us is Julie.” Luke let out, dropping his weight on the couch. “It’s not like we can call him out while we’re performing.”

“No but if the moment presents itself, I can totally vouch for you,” she said. “Carrie and I used to be friends, her dad knows me, he’ll… he’ll listen.”

Alex put down his drumsticks. “I say we go, we need some answers.”

“I’m with Alex, we can’t really hold onto anger forever.” Reggie said with a side smile and a shrug. “What do you say, Luke?”

He didn’t say a thing. A frown took over his whole expression. It only softened when Julie shifted his way; she tried to convince him with a gesture, a silent talk between them begging him please to consider it. The boys were angry at Bobby, they had enough reasons to be, but they still had to let go so they could keep moving forward, it was the best they could do. Luke finally gave in and nodded to Julie. She smiled and was about to approach him when she heard Carlos’ voice from behind.

“So… how are the guys doing?”

“Huh?” She turned around. Her brother was leaning against the door, looking past Julie. “What guys?”

“The ones you were talking with.”

“I… I wasn’t talking with anyone,” she played dumb. “There’s no one else in here.”

“I figured you were gonna say that but,” the boy said, taking out from his pocket a picture taken straight out of Sunset Curve’s demo album. Julie looked at it and let out a deep breath. Busted, totally busted. “Don’t they look familiar?”

“You gotta give it to him, he’s thorough in his research,” Reggie let out, the boys giving him a look. “What? He is.”

Luke stood up and walked next to Julie. “He’s not gonna tell anyone, is he?”

Julie looked up at him and shrugged. Her brother wasn’t nosey and he always tried to help her so she trusted him to keep it all in. “We can keep this a secret, right? No telling dad.”

Carlos took a hand to his chin and made a thoughtful grin. “We can but you’re gonna have to answer some ghostly doubts first.”

After giving Carlos the 101 guide on how to deal with ghosts, exchange that ended on him disappointed of not actually being able to interact with the boys, Julie went out searching for Luke; who had vanished from the studio and hadn’t come back for more than an hour. She wanted to make sure he wasn’t changing his mind, or freaking out about it. It was enough of a sensitive topic for him, Bobby stole his lyrics after all and music for Luke was the biggest expression of his soul. Knowing someone else, a friend, had taken his lyrics and sang them as their own and never even remembered his name while doing so was hurtful.

Bouncing a basketball and throwing it to the ring for it to bounce back and start again, she found him. Focused on his movements as if he were playing guitar, he bounced the ball once again before seeing her and stopping it mid-air.

“Hey!” He said, eyes glued on her, something Julie wasn’t sure how to take in. his eyes were always so full of the world. “Everything’s alright with your brother?”

“Yeah, he’s… he’s only bummed he can’t actually talk and hang out with ghosts but he won’t tell.” She played with her hands in her pockets and finally decided to speak. “How are you, though? I know the idea of doing this is big, playing in a show for Bobby after all that happened…”

“It’s…” he shrugged. “Ever since I found out he stole our songs I’ve been really angry and I know, I know we gotta let go of the past but there are some things that just linger. I mean, I like our music now more than ever, singing with you is the best… it’s just that…”

“He stole a part of you.”

Luke nodded. “But I’m on board with the boys; the best for us is to move on. Focus on here, what we have is pretty great…” he said, closing in the space between them. His bright eyes changed it all for her, every time, and now they were so sincere. Julie couldn’t emphasize enough how she loved playing with the boys, how much happier she felt since they showed up, how grateful she was with her mom for sending them her way. She needed them as much as they needed her. And now knowing how all Luke made her feel was too good, with its own stones to stumble in but good. “I wouldn’t trade it for anything.” Neither would she.

Luke offered his hand, intertwining her fingers with his she took him, closing in the rest of the space between them. Forehead to forehead, she closed her eyes as she let the feeling spread through her body. The gleefulness of being able to connect with him that way was homely, like landing on a safe place and being held by the right arms. Not even a thought of the impossibilities of their relationship could break how she managed to feel in that moment. Infinite, full of peace. Brand new.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hello! Once again, I’m putting in the tags the people who have interected with the previous post and who want to be tagged. Thank you so much for reading and remember you can drop prompts for the fic, whatever you’d like to see I’d be really happy to play out. My ask box is always open, either for this fic or one shots.

Tags: @cordeliapeters @leahthewonder @a-chaotic-ananas @just-henny @helookedupgrinninglikeadevil @oliveswiftly @sammy-stan @sweetlikecherry-wine @lmaohuh @fantomgirlonsonthin @laughswaytoomuch @loveyatopluto @sammi36 @artemiscrock913

Thanks again for reading, it means the world!

[kholran]

Fic Tag Game

Once again I saw this before work and then promptly forgot to do it when I got home. So I’m doing it now at almost 2:30 am. As always, thanks to @vishcount for the tag!

Name: Kholran (or Khol)

This is my go-to screen name for just about everything. I made it up for a tabletop RP character that I never ended up actually playing. So I stole his name for myself and have been using it ever since. Chances are if you encounter a Kholran anywhere online, it’s me.

Fandoms: Since this is specifically about fic, I’m going to limit it to fandoms I’ve written in. Because otherwise we’d be here all night.

Lord of the Rings/The Hobbit: Specifically Bard/Thranduil (Barduil). It literally took one exchanged glance on screen and I was totally sold on this ship. I wrote more for them than any other ship I’ve shipped. AUs, canon, you name it I wrote it for them.

Les Miserables: Ok so let me start by saying I’ve been a huge fan of the musical since middle school, when the 10th Anniversary Dream Cast happened. I read the Brick in 7th grade. So I didn’t JUST jump on the bandwagon when the movie came out. But that Les Mis renaissance did inspire me to write my one and only fic in the fandom. A Titanic AU that turned out less cracky than intended. Don’t judge me.

Guardian: So technically speaking I haven’t PUBLISHED any Weilan fic yet. But I do have the first four and a half chapters of a mermaid AU finished. And I plan on getting back to it and finishing it once I stop obsessing over my pool noodle in-

DMBJ/Lost Tomb: Something about cdrama gives me plot bunnies. And adopted side characters. And rarepair pool noodles, apparently. This is where I’m living right now, paddling around on the SS Risang.

Tropes: Uhh. I’m positive I write tropes but it’s not like a conscious thing? I guess angst with a happy ending is where it’s at? Considering I love me some damaged characters, it’s almost impossible not to write a lot of angst into my fics. But I also want to give them love and happiness and cookies.

Fic I spent most time on: I think probably the aforementioned Weilan mermaid AU. Because I started it last...September? Maybe? And I haven’t finished it yet.

Favorite fic(s) you’ve written:

I’m happy to report that I don’t...hate...my old fics? Like I can re-read them and sometimes even think I’m not half bad at this hobby. But at the same time I fall into the mindset of “Oh that could have been better. I should have done this differently. I want to change that so bad. Man I wish I’d finished this series.”

So I think I’ll have to say the Under Your Skin Barduil series, featuring soulmate tattoos. I wish I hadn’t gotten too insecure to finish it because I had a whole big idea plotted out that I just never ended up writing. I like what I did finish though. And then I think my very favourite is my Risang pool noodle baby, I Will Go Now to My Pyre. Not only is it my rarepair crowning glory (in that I named the ship, was the first one in the tag, and got more than one “I never even thought about this ship before but I’m into it” comments), but I’ve put so much time and sweat and tears into it. (PS I promise I’m working on the conclusion! It’s 7k words and counting!)

Fic I spent least time on: I don’t even know. Maybe I Get By? From concept to publishing I think it was only a few days.

Longest fic: It’s definitely GOING to be the Weilan AU. But currently it’s In Every Age, the Les Mis Titanic AU. I Will Go Now to My Pyre might end up beating that one by the time it’s done. We’ll see.

Shortest fic: AO3 says it’s Run, which was the intro to a Barduil Zombie Apocalypse AU. But it didn’t get much of a response so I never continued it past the brief intro.

Most hits/kudos/comments/bookmarks:

Hits and Kudos: And Here My Troubles Begin, part 3 of Under Your Skin. Not surprised. It has porn in it.

Comments: I Will Go Now to My Pyre, and I cannot thank all of you enough for validating my pool noodle this way!

Fic you want to rewrite/expand on: Um. Literally all of them. Like I said above, as soon as I re-read them, I want to re-WRITE them. Because I think I can always make them better. But I guess I’ll really say the Under Your Skin series. Also like I said above, I had a whole storyline planned out for that and I’m sad I didn’t get around to fleshing it out.

Share a bit of a WIP: Ok, here’s a tiny sneak peek of the next (I say next instead of last even though it’s supposed to be the last because the word count is getting away from me and it might end up split) chapter of I Will Go Now to My Pyre:

“Did you do this yourself?” he asked, grimacing at the state of the bandage as he started to cut it away, slowly revealing the marred skin beneath. The question was met with silence, and Liu Sang briefly glanced up from what he was doing. Zhang Rishan had an odd expression on his face, like he'd somehow misinterpreted what Liu Sang was asking. “The bandage. Did you do it yourself?”

“Oh.” Relief? That was weird. What had Zhang Rishan thought he meant? “Yes. I spent some time in the Army a while back,” Zhang Rishan replied, as if that explained everything.

Liu Sang watched him for a moment longer before turning his focus back to his task. Everything about the dressing and the wrapping was wrong, and half the gashes he'd revealed needed stitching. He wondered if they'd even been cleaned first. Probably not, given the warmth of Zhang Rishan's skin and the angry reddened edges of the wounds.  “Not as a medic, I hope,” he muttered after a beat.

I tag: ALL of my writer friends. I want to know all about your projects. TELL ME.

[rocknrollarticles]

The Artwoods Story

The Artwoods’ 100 Oxford Street is a UK compilation album released in 1983 that features a four-page booklet (pictured above) that tells the band’s story, written by guitarist Derek Griffiths.

Since there's a limit on the number of photos that can be added to one post, I'll be reblogging this a couple times until I have all the info up. To see this post with all the info added in reblogs, click here.

Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy Derek’s words as much as I do!

Transcript under the cut (main text + Record Mirror article from page three's rightmost side)

“  It's difficult to pinpoint exactly when the Artwoods came into being because everything just seemed to evolve naturally. The one date however that does stick in my mind is the 1st October 1964 which is the date I turned professional, thus depriving the accountancy profession of a valuable addition to its ranks! But seriously, one must go back to previous events in order to trace the history of the group.

I first met Jon Lord at a party in West Hampstead when he was a drama student at The Central School of Speech & Drama. He was introduced to me by Don Wilson whose claim to fame was his membership of the famous skiffle group Dickie Bishop & His Sidekicks. They had had a hit years previously with "No Other Baby But You", and Don now ran a band on a semi-pro basis called Red Bludd's Bluesicians in which I played guitar. Well, I say we were called this, but only when we were fortunate enough to cop an R&B gig. We used to play The Flamingo Allnighter and lots of U.S. air bases. The rest of the time we played weddings and tennis club dances as The Don Wilson Quartet! Jon Lord was brought in on piano and was a very valuable addition especially as he could get his hands around a little jazz and all the old standards. Jon used to ring me at work and interrupt my vouching of sales ledger invoices in order to discuss the coming weekends gigs. We would bubble with excitement at the approach of an R&B gig as we really hated all the weddings and barmitzvahs.

Around this time Don made a very important policy decision and we suddenly became the proud owners of a Lowrey Holiday organ for Jon to play. Shortly after this Don contrived to drive the band-wagon into the back of a lorry on the North Circular, doing himself considerable mischief in the process. This brought about the unfortunate end of Don's career with us, but not before he had masterminded an important merger of two local bands.

For some time we had been aware, and not a little envious, of The Art Wood Combo led by none other than Art Wood himself. His band underwent a split at that time and Red Bludd's Bluesicians, alias The Don Wilson Quartet, were neatly grafted on. We really felt we were moving into the big league by doing this as Art not only had more work than us but, wait for it, used to sing with Alexis Korner's Blues Incorporated with Charlie Watts on drums and Cyril Davies on harmonica! The next problem was a replacement for Don, and this was solved by stealing the bass player from another local group The Roadrunners, a good looking cove who went by the name of Malcolm Pool. The offer and acceptance of the gig were transacted in a pub car park somewhere in West Drayton staring into the murky waters of the Grand Union Canal clutching pints of local bitter (Fullers?). (Authors note: drugs had not been invented at this stage, as far as most groups were concerned, apart from the odd pill to keep one awake on an all nighter!)

~

The next personnel change took place some time in 1964 and this involved the retirement of drummer Reg Dunnage, who did not want to turn pro. Auditions were held in London and lots of drummers attended. However it was more or less a foregone conclusion that Keef Hartley would get the job. You see we'd already decided that what The Artwoods needed above all else was a Liverpool drummer! Unfortunately none came to the audition, but Keef hailed from Preston which was near enough for us. Keef had previously played with Rory Storm & The Hurricanes, replacing Ringo Starr in the process (heady stuff this), and Freddy Starr & The Midnighters. Both were such influential bands of their time that these credentials combined with Keef's quasi Liverpool accent (at least to our ears) provided him with a faultless pedigree.

~

So that was it, the line-up that would take us through to 1967 when Colin Martin eventually replaced Keef Hartley on drums.

For a while we worked as The Art Wood Combo but then decided it was hipper to drop the Combo and become The Artwoods.

The period when The Artwoods were operating was one of musical change when groups went from recording and performing other writers' material to writing their own. In fact the last year of the group's existence was 1967 which heralded the arrival of "Hendrix", "Flower-Power". "Festivals" and experimental use of mind expanding drugs! 1966/67 were particularly exciting years to be based in London and every night would be spent in one of the many clubs which had recently sprung up. The Ad Lib, The Scotch of St. James, The Cromwellian, Blaises and of course The Speakeasy to mention a few. Many of these we played in and the trick was to be well known enough not to have to pay the entrance fee on nights off. Any night you could be sure to meet your mates "down The Speak" and it became the unofficial market place for rock musicians.

It was also the days before huge amounts of equipment took over. Equipment meant road-crew and trucks and in turn financial hardship. This simple equation has been the downfall of many bands over the years. We used to travel in a 15 cwt van together with all the gear-no roadies, just us. It's amusing to recall but after recording the TV show "Ready, Steady, Go" (in Kingsway in those days?) one would be besieged by autograph hunters on the way to the van with the gear. Even really 'big groups of the day like The Zombies would hump their own equipment and apologetically place an amp on the ground in order to sign an autograph! Because it was financially viable to travel to small clubs in this way, we would often average 6 or 7 nights a week, every week, on the road. A bad month would probably mean less than twenty gigs. This meant we were living, sleeping and eating in close, and I mean close, proximity. You really found out who your friends were.

The subject of equipment is an interesting one as it really distinguishes the bands then from those of today. The average pub band of today would carry more equipment than we did. As I've already mentioned we were quick to realise that we could elevate ourselves musically by investing in a proper electric organ as opposed to a Vox Continental or Farfisa that many groups used. Consequently the group purchased a Lowrey Holiday and we thought this alone would provide us with the Booker T and Jimmy Smith sound.

What we failed to realize was that we also needed a Leslie cabinet with a special built-in rotor to get that "wobbly" sound. Our friend and mentor Graham Bond, the legendary organist/saxophonist, was quick to point out the error of our ways one night when we were gigging at Klooks Kleek in West Hampstead. We groaned inwardly when we discovered the extra cost and humping involved, but it had to be bought. We were fortunate very early on to score a deal with Selmers, who provided us with free amps and P.A., but we had to make the trek to Theobalds Road once a week to get it all serviced as they were not as reliable in those days. I used a Selmer Zodiac 50 watt amp and Malcolm had Goliath bass cabinets with a stereo amp.

The P.A. comprised two 4 x 12 cabinets and a 100 watt amp! When we toured Poland we played in vast auditoria and linked our system with the Vox system being used on tour by Billy J Kramer & The Dakotas. This meant we were pumping out no more than 300 watts which is laughable by today's standards. Although it would never have compared in quality, I can remember standing at the back of extremely large halls and being able to hear clearly all the words Billy J sang. One day in 1963 Alexis Korner sent me off foraging in and around Charing Cross Road for a new guitar, with instructions to mention his name whereupon I would receive a discount of 10%. Previously I played a Burns Trisonic (collectors will appreciate this model did not have "Wild Dog" treble) but fancied owning a Gibson ES335 as favoured by many blues players. Sure enough one was hanging invitingly in the window of Lew Davis's shop.

I ended up paying £135 and still use it regularly today although its value has multiplied five fold. Malcolm came with me that day and bought an Epiphone bass, the same colour and shape as my guitar. For years we looked like matching book-ends on either end of the group! Keef started off using a Rodgers drum kit, but somewhere along the line changed to, I think, Ludwig. There was no out-front mixing as is common today, just the P.A. amp on stage with the vocalist. Primitive I know, but everything revolved around bands being able to travel economically with their gear and perform at small clubs anywhere in Britain. The college circuit was much sought after and provided the icing on the cake while package tours were not necessarily well paid. We did our first with P. J. Proby and got £25 per night (for the lot of us) and we had to pay for our own accommodation!

~

I have already mentioned "Ready, Steady, Go" a show on which we appeared on more than one occasion. The original format called for groups to mime to their records but after a time it was decided that it would become "live" and that the show would be re-titled "Ready Steady Goes Live". We were proud to be picked for the first "live" show and learnt the news via a telephone call to our agent in London from a phone box high in the Pennines. We managed a drunken war-dance of celebration round the phone box believing that this meant we'd really cracked it. As I remember the first show we did featured Tom Jones (complete with lucky rabbits foot) miming to "It's Not Unusual", The Kinks, Donovan and Adam Faith's Roulettes playing live (without Adam). We were promoting our first single "Sweet Mary" and I would put the date at around late 1964.

~

Our first recording deal was with a subsidiary of Southern Music Publishing called Iver Productions and I reckon that would have been mid 1964. Southern had a four track studio in the basement of their offices in Denmark Street ("The Street") and getting the gear downstairs, especially the organ, was "murder". Our first producer was Terry Kennedy and we recorded several tracks with him. Without going too deeply into all the details of recording techniques of the period, one tended to compensate for the lack of tracking facilities available, by attempting to duplicate the live excitement. In many ways it was a frustrating experience particularly for ambitious guitar-players. I was a Steve Cropper freak and I knew as a musician that a lot of his sound on record resulted from him working his amplifier hard in the studio— thus the speaker would emit the sound he was used to on stage. In Britain however, engineers would say "You don't need to play loud man, we can turn you up on the desk". The result was a weedy, thin guitar sound. From way back I'd been experimenting with "feed back" on stage and I really had to dig my heels in about the guitar sound in the studio. Once when I turned my amp up to give it a bit of "wellie" on a solo the engineer bounded out of the control room screaming that the level would bust his microphones!

~

Sometime during the career of The Artwoods it was decided that we should graduate to a better studio. This was arranged by Mike Vernon who also became our producer. Our records had all been released through the Decca Record Co. and Mike was a staff producer with them. Mike w also an authority on "The Blues" and the relationship led to our only single chart record "I Take What I Want" a cover of a Sam & Dave U.S. R&B hit. Mike was also producing John Mayall at the time and it seemed only natural that Mike and The Artwoods should team up. From this point on we recorded at the Decca studio in Broadhurst Gardens, West Hampstead, but I can't honestly say it did any more for us than our previous efforts in the Southern Music basement, although we could now indulge ourselves in the comparative luxury of the eight track studio. Later on, towards the end of the groups life we were signed by Jack Baverstock at Philips Records who was looking for a group to cash in on the thirties-style gangster craze which had been triggered off by the film "Bonnie & Clyde". As a result we changed our name to "St. Valentines Day Massacre" and released a single of the old Bing Crosby hit "Brother Can You Spare A Dime?" It was an ill- fated venture, which I would prefer not to dwell on, virtually signalling the end of the band apart from a few heavy-hearted gigs with a changed line-up.

~

Before that though, there were many great times to remember, and a fair number of gigs that were memorable in one way or another.

One of our favourite gigs was Eel Pie Island which we regularly played once a month; in fact we held the attendance record there for a while until the ageing blues artist Jesse Fuller took it from us. Eel Pie Island is literally an island in the middle of the River Thames at Twickenham and there's never been a gig like it since. It was an Edwardian ballroom originally I believe, that achieved notoriety in the 50's with the Trad Jazz boom. At that time, an overloaded chain ferry was used to convey the crowd across the river, but during the 60's a small bridge was in existence although it was only wide enough to take the promoter Art Chisnall's mini van. He had to make three separate trips across with the gear strapped to the roof and hanging out the back doors.

The audiences were exceptional for those times and I don't know where they all came from... very much like art students and very much more like the 70's than 60's. Long hair predominated and this was before 'hippies' had officially been invented! If you can imagine a ramshackle wooden ballroom, bursting at the seams, condensation pouring from the walls, the audience on each others shoulders leaping up and down, the sprung dance floor bending alarmingly in the middle, in the summer couples strolling outside and lounging on the river bank ... all this and not a disc jockey in sight! One other bonus was that it was a “free” house and therefore sold many different types of beer— we always favoured Newcastle Brown. Back on the 'mainland' afterwards it was always riotous packing the gear into the truck. I don't know how he managed it but one night Malcolm drove our truck over the support band's guitar which happened to be lying about, thus breaking the neck. I'll never forget the shocked look on that poor guitarist's face as Malcolm smoothly slipped the van into gear, apologised and drove off in that order!

~

No trip up north was complete without stopping at the famed Blue Boar on the M1 for a "grease-up" on the way home. I do not refer to truck lubrication but to a particular rock'n'roll delicacy known as “full-house”. This comprised double egg, sausage, chips, beans, tomatoes, fried slice, tea, and (if you were man enough) toast. It was considered a Herculean task to break successfully the 10 bob' (50p) barrier-all served on wobbly cardboard plates that doubled as items to sign autographs on for the self service waitresses.

Waitress: What band are you?

Me: You won't have heard of us.

Waitress: Oh go on, tell us.

Me: OK. The Artwoods.

Waitress: Never 'eard of you!

It was everybody’s dream to walk into the Blue Boar just as their hit of the moment was playing on the Juke Box.

~

One time we were chosen to represent the twentieth century at the centenary celebrations of the State of Monte Carlo— a most lavish affair which the aristocracy and dignatories of Europe attended. Princess Grace and Prince Ranier were the hosts and people like Gina Lollobrigida and the like were there. The ball was held in the famous Casino at Monte Carlo and we stayed in an opulent hotel called The Hermitage, I think. All I can remember is that we all had single rooms (a rare luxury) which were massive, and you could have pitched a tent under one of the bath towels, they were so big. After this we jetted off up to Paris where we played next door to the Moulin Rouge at a club called The Locomotive.

Whilst we were there we were taken out by our friend Mae Mercer, the American lady blues singer who we backed in England. She lived in Paris and took us out to Memphis Slim's club where we all set about drinking like it was going out of style. At the end there was an embarrassing scene concerning the bill with the result that Mae ended up in tears. Whilst we were bumbling about in an alcoholic stupor, an upright looking gentleman put his arm round Mae to comfort her and a wallet appeared magically from his inside pocket. Without further ado the bill was despatched and we later learned that our anonymous benefactor was none other than Peter O'Toole who was busy in the street outside filming 'Night Of The Generals' and was an old buddy of Mae's.

~

One Boxing Day we loaded up with turkey sandwiches and Xmas pudding and headed off for a gig down in Devon or Cornwall somewhere. We arrived to find the club closed and boarded up, and as usual we were broke. Naturally we were livid, checked into an hotel and located the promoter who lived with his mum. Next morning we drove round to where he lived and burst our way past his confused mum. We found him in his bedroom nervously cowering against some fruit machines which he collected. He had no money so we forced him to empty his damned machines with the result that we drove back to London with 50 quids' worth of 'tanners' (approx 22p for the younger reader!)

Whilst on the subject of disasters I suppose I am duty bound to mention Denmark. The first time we went there we caught the ferry to the continent, drove up through Germany, then caught another ferry to Denmark. There was no promoter to meet us when we arrived so all we could do was drive to Copenhagen and check in at the Grand Hotel. It cost us an arm and a leg but at least we got a good nights sleep after being awake for nearly two days travelling. The next day we made a few phone calls and finally tracked down the promoter. He said: "Didn't you get my telegram cancelling the tour?" We politely said no we hadn't and what did he intend doing with us? He checked us into another hotel (cheaper of course) and set about booking us at places that were similar to English coffee bars and youth clubs. We made enough to survive on and paved the way to more successful tours of that country. In fact by now we had Colin Martin on drums and were pursuing a much more adventurous musical policy and writing our own material. It was just right for Denmark who had taken Hendrix to their hearts to name but one, and we subsequently became quite big there in 1967.

The Artwoods achieved modest success-a minor hit single in "I Take What I Want", but we worked constantly, travelled abroad, had fantastic fun and made a living doing so. We had seven single releases, one album, and one EP, and we broadcast both on radio and TV many times. We did stage tours such as the P. J. Proby tour and covered most aspects of "show-biz" apart from actually making a movie. It was the era when bands still had to prove themselves as a live act before being offered a recording contract. now frequently happens of course that an act can become huge record sellers without so much as venturing to do a live gig.

~

So what happened to everyone? Well Art returned to his former occupation as a commercial artist and finds some time to fit in free-lance work between accompanying brother Ron Wood on raving excursions between Rolling Stones gigs. Malcolm moved into the same field as Art and they now work in the same building. Both of them gig occasionally on a semi-pro basis although Malcolm spent some time playing with Jon Hiseman's Colosseum and Don Partridge in the early 70's. Jon Lord became famous with Deep Purple and Whitesnake as did Keef Hartley with John Mayall and various bands of his own. Colin Martin is now a BBC Radio producer of repute. I played in various bands such as Lucas and The Mike Cotton Sound, Colin Blunstone's band, Dog Soldier (with Keef again), before I somehow drifted into studio and theatre work. Recently I formed an R'n'B band called the G.B. Blues Company, and it's great to be back on the road again.   ”

Derek Griffiths.

Clipping from Record Mirror on June 5, 1965, by Norman Jopling.

“We aim to excite!” … say the Art Woods

Just for the record, the Art Woods aren't a part of Epping Forest. In fact they're a group of five interesting young men, named after the group's leader Art Wood. They also happen to be one of the most realistic groups on the scene.

For a start, they are the awkward position of having a large following, a club residency but no hit record. Secondly. they don't mind pandering to commercial tastes, even though they have been hailed as one of the most authentic R & B groups in the land.

NO PULL

“But authentic R&B just isn't pulling the crowds any more,” says Art. “The audiences want to be excited, not to be lectured on what is 'good' and what is 'bad'. Although there was a time when you could spend half an hour on one number with long solos by everybody, it didn't last long. And although there are some clubs like that still, most of them want something fresh and new.

“And we try to cater for them. We like authentic R&B, but we also like playing everything and anything else. So far, our two discs haven't meant a light. Of course we'd love a hit. But we're lucky enough to make a good living without one.”

DISCS

The Art Woods latest disc is "Oh My Love" and the one before that “Sweet Mary”. Of them Little Walter has said that he couldn't believe any white group could sing and play the blues like they do.

Line-up of the group is Art Wood, leader. vocalist and harmonica. Derek Griffiths, lead guitar, Jon Lord, organ and piano. Malcolm Pool— base guitar, and Keef Hartley on drums. The boys use a specially adapted Lowrie organ, and get a sound that's really different.

But even if the boys sometimes become depressed about no hits records, they should remember groups like Cliff Bennett, the Barron-Knights, the Rockin' Berries and the Yardbirds, and how long THEY waited before they had a hit!

N.J.