#i don’t if is because of my job but i love stories told by fragments that are always incomplete

[anakinskywalkerisfave]

Hello! I want to ask you something about Star Wars. What's your opinion on "love isn't attachment" interpretation of the Jedi Code that has been going around?

I think it’s a misrepresentation born out of an effort to make the Jedi Order seem perfect, instead of the noble but flawed institution that we see in both Disney canon and the Star Wars EU. It is a blatant disregard of both the general canonical and legends continuity that the Jedi Order did not allow love. Love is a type of attachment, at least in the Jedi's eyes, otherwise they would not be separating young children from their families.

And no, if the chosen one is doing just fine with his latent force powers, I don't think they're recuiting toddlers because they would otherwise "have no control" and be "a danger to others." Take that crap somewhere else, because I'm not buying it.

If they don’t care about loving people (ie your birth family), then why do we never see Jedi (aside from obvious exceptions like Anakin or Ki-Adi-Mundi) mention their family or keep in any form of touch with them? Why would they accept only very young children? Notably children whose memories of their time with their family would largely or wholly be lost due to childhood amnesia*, and therefore would not remember their attachment to their families and the love of their family. Regardless of whatever media tries to retcon the no love thing as love being acceptable and that attachment was a different thing, the most important canon (the movies) does not support this at all.

(*Childhood amnesia refers to the inability of most adults to recall memories from before the age of 3-4 years. It also refers to the fragmentation of memories from early childhood, especially from the ages of 3-6. This is paraphrased from the Wikipedia article on the subject.)

Also, if love (platonic or romantic) actually is allowed, then why would this official movie poster for Attack of the Clones exist? (Someone on youtube literally tried to argue with me that despite it being an official poster, it “didn’t mean anything." 🤨 By that logic, a movie advertised as R-rated can be assumed to be appropriate for children. Jedi apologists are truly dedicated to spiting their English teachers and anyone who tried to teach them about critical thinking or analysis.)

Bonus Round: Star Wars EU Edition

(read the paragraph on the right, starting at "Love is also a strong passion," and I also suggest reading the character's annotations on the side.)

They literally explain love is forbidden. While they say "those who obsess," in practice, it applies to any love, not just obsessive. (Also, it is a parent's job to prioritize the needs of their child. It's not "obsession" to put the child first, that's what you're supposed to do.) They are literally being told that wanting to contact their birth families is a cause of concern and that any attachment will cause you to "lose sight of your path" and are a cause for expulsion from the Order.

Once again, they are not allowed to connect with their birth families. The HoloNet calls it monstrous because it is. Separating a child from their parents is incredibly damaging, especially in early childhood*, (the age of recruitment into the Jedi Order) which is obvious, but this is the same fandom where I see people try (and fail) to justify child soldiers and using a slave army.

Sources about the detrimental effects of separating children from their parents:

https://www.pbs.org/wgbh/nova/article/psychological-damage-inflicted-by-parent-child-separation-is-deep-long-lasting/

https://news.stanford.edu/stories/2018/06/psychological-impact-early-life-stress-parental-separation

This excert is from a section called "Misperceptions of the Jedi" from The Jedi Path: A Manual for Students of the Force.

"This charge springs from the pain of emotional attachment. It's also technically false." If I had my child taken from me and had no way to get them back, I don't give a shit if you have legal authority. You are effectively a kidnapper. The child isn't being removed from their parent's care because of abuse or any other legitimate reason. It's because they want to indoctrinate them and it's far easier when they don't remember anything before being taken to the temple. So they don't have a pesky attachment or concern for their mom left in slavery, for example!

Anyway, Luke's Jedi Order from the EU >>>>>> the old Jedi Order

[satorugojowidow]

Gege is great at showing us that side-characters are going through their own arcs and stories that we either wont get to see or only see a glimpse of. And they're okay with letting it stay that way, which is refreshing no matter how much those side-stories may interest me.

Like you said, there's the example of Maki's mother, which is done beautifully. But also there's the scene between Yaga, Kusakabe and Takeru's mother that really sticks with me because obviously there's a story there that's already taken place but we may never know the details of it. Same for Todo and Takada-chan or Momo and Mai. You get the sense that all of these characters have their own arcs that are happening or have happened behind the scenes rather than them just being background reactors to what's currently going on and it makes them feel so human.

We also see this with Yuuji's story. Despite it being the main story of the manga, you get the sense that it's just something that's happening within the world of jjk. The people around him don't treat him or interact with him like he's a main character, because he isn't, he's just a student like all the other students. He's not the first to be sentenced to execution. He's not a prodigy or a natural at jujutsu or special. He's just a kid. Even when we find out that he was always supposed to be a vessel, Gege balances it with the knowledge that there are other vessels like him for other curses. Yuuji and Sukuna are just one of many, and they're the one's we're focused on.

(Sorry for rambling in your askbox, hopefully this all makes sense 💗)

I agree with everything ♥ and it gives me a good opportunity to talk about Yaga and Jin. There is a false idea that a story can be told as it is full, but the truth is that nobody remembers everything and what remains from the past are just pieces. Us, readers, faced against small pieces of a story we don’t know we have to exercise our imagination to understand what they (characters) have been through. I really enjoy that about Gege writing, we never know everything, all the details. Those pieces (alway incomplete) he gave us put us in the situation to try to decipher riddles and force us to try a deep understanding of the characters and the story.

Why did Yaga create Panda? Sometimes I believe he didn’t have a reason like a plan, but was an impulse of someone who felt alone. Someone who gave his life to jujutsu, who served the cause and got nothing but bad memories. That chapter doesn't solve the enigma, but insert the question and through that question we can think about Yaga, who he was and why he did what he did.

The same for Jin Itadori. It’s just a few panels but let us understand that Yuji's tragedy started with his father and set so many questions about him and Kenjaku. Maybe we won’t ever know with details what happened to him, but we know that Yuji’s tragedy started with Jin’s yearning to become a father.

[winterandwords]

📖 [short fiction] SMOKE

📝 notes

Audience age Adult Genre Experimental/literary fiction Length 999 words

Through a journey paved with fragments of break-ups and breakdowns, scorched earth and burned bridges, a heartbroken lover finds a way to breathe again.

☕ If you enjoy this story and would like to buy me a coffee, you can do that here

📸 Header image, edited and displayed under license, by Tobias Tullius on Unsplash

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

SIX MONTHS AGO

You whispered through tears, “I love you.”

ONE MONTH AGO

I stood next to my car with you, experiencing the dawning realisation that this was going nowhere. I leaned on the door and shuffled my feet as you said you couldn’t have made it this far without me, but it was too painful to be with me now. I pulled you back to when life was bad and you needed too much. A cut-throat reminder that I was enough for only some things.

Well, I hope you enjoyed that little moment, that you took it home and wrapped yourself in it, feeling a swell of pride for having broken the unbreakable.

TWENTY-NINE DAYS AGO

I found your cigarettes in the bottom of my bag. The pack was crushed. I smoked them, one by one, all afternoon until I could breathe again, the skylight open above my head. I quit smoking a year ago, but that pack, that day, was not failure or relapse. It was catharsis. I was disgusted, as much by how I still wanted you to want me as by the now unacquired taste of burning tobacco.

Lying on my bed in a haze of smoke, I remembered your smile, your eyes, all those clichés. How amazing for someone who forgets most faces in an instant. But there I was, my own eyes red-rimmed and dark-circled, skin pale, hair wild and lips bitten, picturing your particular arrangement of features with painful accuracy. I pulled my sleeves down over shaking hands with chewed fingernails and tried to hate you.

ONE YEAR AND TWO MONTHS AGO

The day we met. At work. I overheard you explode into a rant about how films and TV shows now were nothing more than remakes, reboots, reimaginings, sequels and prequels, how the whole entertainment industry had given up trying to climb out of its conceptual rut.

I knew right then that we had to be friends, so I spun around in my chair, uncharacteristically interrupting your conversation with a bewildered colleague, and said, “No-one’s brave enough to do anything that hasn’t already been mass-approved a thousand times over. Nothing’s new anymore and I hate it.”

You raised your hands in a gesture of praise and appreciation, then pointed at me and said, “See? You get it.”

ONE YEAR AND ONE MONTH AGO

You stopped at my desk, handed me a cup of coffee, and said, “I’m going shopping at lunchtime. You should come with me.” It wasn’t an invitation as much as a statement of fact. So I went. Because of course I did.

I wriggled into a dress I never would have chosen for myself, but that you decided would look amazing on me, and while I scrutinised my appearance in one of ten available mirrors, you looked me up and down and said, “You look stunning. Seriously. Stunning. You should wear things like that all the time. You should definitely buy it.” So I did.

You pulled off the sweater you’d been trying on and I saw the scars. I never asked. You never told me.

NINE MONTHS AGO

We went out to a club, and I wore the dress. Maybe it did look stunning like you said, but everyone was staring at you. Everyone was always staring at you. We shared a taxi home and arrived at your house first. You kissed me on your way out of the car and walked away without even so much as a glance over your shoulder, leaving me in shock with your lipstick smudged on my mouth.

EIGHT MONTHS AGO

You quit your job. You showed up at my door at one o’clock in the morning and said in a rare expression of vulnerability, “I’m scared you’ll forget me if you don’t see me every day. I don’t want you to forget me.”

I invited you in and made tea and toast while you curled up on the couch and told me about a recurring nightmare where a strong wind blew down the trees in your front garden and the roots tore the house apart as they ripped through the ground. You said you thought it might have had something to do with feeling like the house shouldn’t be yours, that you only got it in the divorce because your ex-husband had enough money not to care and just wanted it all to be over so he could get away from you.

You spoke of a gnawing sense of nostalgia for a time and a place that you were scared you would never experience, and how you were sure there was a word for that, but you couldn’t remember what it was.

You told me about your ex-husband and your father and how history always repeats itself and people always let it because they don’t know how not to. Then you told me how much you admired my strength and wished you could be like me instead of living in a perpetual state of emergency. You turned your face away from mine when you said, “I can’t look in the mirror anymore.”

I didn’t know what to say because I might have been steady ground, but you were an earthquake and I was quickly becoming addicted to the sensation of breaking glass and cracking walls.

You lit a cigarette and asked if you could stay. I said yes. Because how could I not? And how could I not want you to?

That was the true beginning of the tempest, the vortex, turbulent and wild. Ships shattering, thrown against rocks in the darkness of a storm and lifeboats swallowed whole. A collapsing tower, a wheel with spokes on fire, a red sky at night. A warning. A warning I completely ignored. I closed my eyes and let go. I let myself fall.

THIS MORNING

I got a voicemail from you. It said simply, “I gave up smoking. I thought you should know.” I deleted it. I hope you can finally breathe.

[celestialrequiem]

Days of Candy Chapter 2

Warnings: CreepyDark!Duncan Shepherd, sexual harassment, dubcon/non? (just to be safe) touching, dirty talk, possessive Duncan, abuse of power, manipulative Duncan, male masturbation, forced kiss, cockwarming, mention of rape and abuse (but none in the chapter), housewife kink, implied age gap, corruption kink, innocence kink, implied homophobia, mention of anxiety, depression and mental disorders, misogyny kink, corruption kink, sexism, implied age gap, Duncan‘s dirty thoughts, sir kink, praise kink.

Summary: In the small town of Willowdale, Y/N finds her dull life as a waitress at a mediocre diner get a little more interesting when the mysterious and daunting Sheriff takes an interest in her.

Pairing: Duncan Shepherd x Naive/shy reader

This is the first thing I ever written and posted so sorry if this is bad, please give me any constructive feedback/criticism to improve! I am new to this please don’t hate it too much lmao.

Author’s note : This series will have dubious consent and sexual harassment. It is a dark story about a Corrupt Sheriff’s who manipulates people so if you are uncomfortable with that please don’t read! This story deals hugely with sexism as its based in the late 50s/60s.

Thanks to @bloodcoatedeclipse for reading through some parts of it and giving me feedback lmaoo.

I didn’t use a lot of 50s/60s slang just two besides swell and gal

Flip your lid - go crazy

Nifty/groovy - cool or cool vibes

Word count: 5.6k

“what a perfect view doll, bend down, y’ur ass stickin out, all for me all in this lonely night”, a familiar voice said seductively

You quickly get up, feeling flustered, adjusting the hem of your skirt as you hold the mop close to your body

“Sh-sh-sheriff what are you doing here?”, Feeling nauseous because of his presence, alone, at night…after that previous incident.

“What does it look like doll? I am here to pick you up.”, Duncan says with confidence as if the question you are asking him is the stupidest he has heard

You immediately, look up to him. He was wearing a brown greaser jacket, you felt it is similar to jacket Xavier might have had…this made your heart sink, what didn’t help is when you realized how attractive he is because of the result of the rain, his beard is glistering from the reflections of the diner’s lighting despite it being dull.

You felt your heart beat.

“No, its okay its a walking distance”  

“I can’t let a beautiful young dame like yourself walk alone now can I? Hop in the car once you’r are done.”

You blinked at him not knowing how to respond, you feel shy when you talk to him, always not knowing how to answer him back..maybe because he knew Xavier?

Or maybe because he had so much power as a sheriff..and you are sure he is going to be re-elected again next year. He apparently helped a lot of people to get out of debts but that makes you wonder how does he get all this money? Did Xavier know?

He seems like he is waiting for your answer, as his hands are on his waist, around his handcuffs and keys, and his lips playing with the toothpick lingering on his mouth

You easily get stuck in your head, you snap back to reality:  “it is okay, you don’t need to do - ”

He interrupts your sentence, “is there something you would like to say to me doll?, cause it looks like you just don’t want my company is that it?”  You felt his chest vibrate from how he uttered that question, it sounded nearly unintelligible.

You felt your heart pounding, sweat forming on your forehead. You didn't want to make him angry. “No no of course I want your company!, let me finish up and I will meet ya outside.”  You agitatedly vocalize your statement while looking at the ground

He loves that he can always get his way with you. You make it so easy.

He hums in approval

“No its alright I will wait for ya, love seeing you doing those house chores like a pretty little housewife. It is a sight dollface”, he chuckles while eyeing you up and down.

You pause, feeling tensed.

“Go on, continue” as he gives himself a seat, across from you to see you working and see your face.

He does love seeing your rear, but he loves seeing you flustered when he gazes at you.

You shakily start mopping the floor, every second feels like torture. Hoping he doesn’t realize the effect he has on you.

But however he has noticed, he is mused that he has power of you, makes his cock excited

“Am I making you nervous babydoll?” He cooes, shifting his toothpick on his lip, left to right with a slyish grin

You ignore him, giving him your side angle, while mopping away from him. You give him your back figure which makes me angry and hard at the same time.

“eye on me little lady”,  he says in a harsh tone, punctuating each word slowly

You respond back to him surprised with your confidence as you look at the door behind him, scared to look at him in the eyes, “can you please let me finish and you can take me home…” 

“Watch your manners baby, or you are in it for a spankin’, declares it with raised eyebrows.

You blush, why is he talking to you that way? it’s not like you were his wife….

Was he that touchy and talkative with you when Xavier was your boyfriend?

Carissa has told you no, he started acting differently ever since Xavier went missing and then declared dead.

“S-sorry sheriff”, you shift back to your older position, so that Duncan can see your face, and continue mopping

He likes when you are eyes are engaging with his eyes, he is waiting for the day when you touch yourself on his bed with your legs spread wide open for his wolf-like eyes to take in the view as you chant his name like prayer to give you the command for you to finally cum, while staring at him with your chastely eyes.

As you mop the floor, motioning it back and forth towards Duncan, your curvy body was in motion as well. He hoped you didn’t re-button your dress again, as he can take in the view of your breasts jiggling again. His eyes lingering slowly all over his favourite parts of your body, your neck, lips, neck, waist and hips . He noticed how nervous you are, there were fear in your eyes, you felt naked in his eyes because of his alpha-like eyes, giving you goosebumps.

You saw his pupils dilated not sure why.

-

After 15 minutes of awkward silence and Duncan forcing you to look at him as you were mopping the floor, you hoped the floor looks fine and that your boss Bob doesn’t get mad the next day.

You are not going to lie, you always wanted to be in his car. It was a dream car. You have seen them a lot in magazines, you don’t know much about cars but you do know this one, 1956 Chevy Bel Air, with a unique colour. White with purple around the edges, elaborate taillight and chrome highlights.

This was the first time you got close to the car, Your head started to hurt, you stood your ground, as you remember fragments of Xavier riding a similar car but in red.

Duncan realizes you might have remembered something…fuck fuck fuck, he hoped you didn’t remember what he didn’t want you to remember..

His hands grips your hand to make you snap out of it before you dig deeper into your suppressed memories.

“you alright there, doll?” Faking his concern you don’t know that, as he opens the door for you to hop in

“Ye..ah..” I am fine” you softly respond. His hand leaves your hand and goes to your back to shift you to get into his car.

You hop in his car, the car felt new, smell of leather with a mix of aged.. cigarettes smoked probably by Shepherd.

-

The car ride was silent.. he has an old song playing which makes it even more unbearable.

Midnight with the stars and you

Midnight and a rendezvous

Your eyes held a message tender

Saying "I surrender all my love to you

“How old is this song anyway?” You mention in annoyance with your right hand on the the rest that is placed near the door handle

Duncan has a wide smile on his face, happy that you are finally making a conversation with him.

“it’s from the 1930s I believe.....besides I don’t like the weird music you youngsters listen to nowadays..what was it Elvis Presley and The Beatles? They aint manly, jiggling all around with their bobby haircuts”  removing his hands from the steering wheel to motion with his hand the disapproval.

You giggle, and his heart skips a bit. Fuck. He couldn’t believe he made you giggle. Xavier always made you giggle and it frustrated him.

“The Beatles are swell….but James Dean has my heart. I loved his style in that movie, particularly his red jacket in Rebel Without a Cause.. it’s nifty.” You state swoonly as you gaze out of the window.

Midnight brought us sweet romance

I know all my whole life through

I'll be remembering you, whatever else I do

Midnight with the stars and you

He thought maybe that’s why you liked Xavier, he bought a similar red jacket as James Dean from the film several days after meeting you. Xavier also had that rebel vibe to him. He remembered his friend as well being a fan of Marlon Brando hence why he wanted to be an actor. To move out of the suburbs, to go to the dreamland..to Hollywood with you. You used to always want to be around him, he didn’t let the deputies patrol the drive in, since he always saw you there with him. He hated seeing you with his friend but he can’t help himself, he wanted to always be near you, see you and to one day feel your skin on his skin.

His jaw clenched and his brows furrowed as he starts to get jealous over a dead man.

You noticed his face seems boiling from rage as his hands gripped forcibly the steering wheel…you don’t know why. Scared to ask so you just continue gazing at the view in locomotion from the car window, as your sheer scarf around your head blowing from the impact of the window.

You loved the aftermath of the rain, the order after the chaos.

-

After a few minutes, The sheriff parks in front of your house. It’s 12 AM.

The house you lived in was basic, owned by your deceased father. It was a small house with a small balcony, it looks a little bit like a tree house. Wooden with no paint job. With a white door to enter the house, two small front steps and a small terrace, where you tend to read the Woman magazines.

He can’t wait for you to live in his house. Especially since he is a veteran who served in the Second World War, the government provided him with the perfect suburban American Dream home.

“Thanks for the ride, Sheriff.” you shyly state, about to open the door of his fancy car.

“Nah -ah -ah not too fast, you have to be punished.” He sings in a mocking tone with a daunting smirk.

You were nervously fidgeting, you don’t know why maybe because you are worried you might have done something that might be incriminating especially with your memory loss situation.

“What? What for?” you gullibly ask, looking up to him.

“You lied to me, you told me you had a doctor appointment when it fact you finish your shift late, kitten” , you see him remove the toothpick that was on his plump lips and put it on the ledge behind the steering wheel.

Oh thank God-

but why should I be punished for this? You didn’t know what to say to him so you just look at his eyes, waiting for any instructions.

He remarks that, he loves how obedient you are to him.

“Come closer, suga’r ” he taps his chest motioning you to come closer to him

What is the punishment? Is he going to spank me?

But we are not married why would he??

You timidly move close to him, refusing to make eye contact with him.

He lifts up your chin, bringing your face near his and your gaze to his.

“Kiss me or else I won’t let you leave this car”, Duncan whispers seductively as he shuts your window’s car seat and secures that your door is locked, trapping you in.

“..N…no..o” Duncan this isn’t right”,  you respond back.

As you shift back to your seat, Duncan aggressively grips your waist with his right hand and grips your chin with his left hand, forces you into a kiss and he goes deep and sensual, demanding access to your mouth but you instantly deny him entry.

This angers him, he aggressively yanks your hair, you gasp giving Duncan the chance to insert his tongue, he needed to taste your mouth.

You try biting his upper lip, he decides to lift up your weak body from your seat, manhandling you, without breaking from the kiss, you feel his strong hands spank you harsh. You whimper loudly.

This made his cock twitch, lust filling him at the thought of your spanked, bare ass turning into crimson-like imprints by his own hand; or by the paddle with his name engraved, so that his name can be imprinted on your ass…maybe next time.

He is waiting for you to make a bad move again so he can discipline you this way, even if you weren’t his bride yet.

You break the kiss gasping for air, “D..Duuncan..stop” you panted with watery eyes, trying to break away from his grasps, with your hands pushing his muscular chest. He didn’t take no for answer. Removing your hands out of the way with his claw-like hands and putting them around his broad back. He then forcefully dragged you onto his lap to straddle his thick thighs, “be a good girl now, you don’t want to be spanked now don’t you?”

He linked his lips with your lips with urgence and dominance. His tongue dancing with yours, wet and minty from the flavoured cigarettes he tends to smokes.

You felt one of his hands leave your waist and lingering underneath your skirt to cup your clothed sex.

A deep growl leaves his chest

He dreamt of touching this pussy for years. Your soft and squishy puffy lips felt so good on his rough manly hand.

You let out a soft gasp with eyes wide open in surprise, and broke away from the kiss to come up for air, a string of saliva connecting your lips.

Duncan grabs your chin, not giving you a second to breath and continues his assault on your lips and your clothed pussy. His middle finger going from your slit all the way to your swollen clit while his index and his forefinger are on your lips, touching you slowly with his hand. He wanted to make you wet before you left.

Your face flushed, you don’t remember if you reached that base with Xavier yet or not…he was your first boyfriend.

This felt forbidden, having his hands all around you.

You felt like you wanted to go to the bathroom, you were worried it might have been your period?

His tongue feels like hot water burning your skin. He claimed your mouth with intensity. You feel your knees weakened, Duncan filling all your senses.

You are so close to his body, your head in the crook of his neck, eyes closed, you feel his warmth and felt his heart beating quick. You put your hands on his golden badge situated on his right chest, reflected in the moon light, to try and push him away, but he didn’t budge.  

he left your assaulted mouth, hearing you panting heavily, and started licking at the column of your neck, his hand leaves your pussy and goes to your bared fleshed upper thigh, his hand moving in a reciprocating motion.  

You felt his beard tickling your left check and your neck, His hot soft grunts and warm breath sends shivers down your body and to your aching pussy

Not sure if it’s lust? Is this how you felt with Xavier ?

You bit down on your bottom lip trying to hold back a sob or was it a moan? 

“Duncan, I don’t feel good”

He knows he is making you feel good, you just need guidance that’s all.

“Why are you moaning then huh?” He chuckles, you felt his chest vibrating from his laughter, giving you goosebumps.

“give in baby, let me take care of you, that’s what Xavier would’ve wanted” he mutters darkly

your stomach twisting into a nervous knot, is this what Xavier would’ve wanted?

“Re-ally?”  You utter quietly with a blush heating up around your neck and cheeks.

He didn’t hear you. Thank God

he gets closer to your ear and whispers,“Knew you’d taste so sweet, just like candy, I wonder what’s the rest of you taste like hm?”

He aggressively bites your earlobe, his hot breath danced on your ear, “I bet just like those pancakes you serve me every morning, thick and creamy.” In a lustful tone.

You squirmed uncomfortably on his lap, felt something touch your stomach, he lets out a profound loud rumble, you look up at him out of shock, his wide blown eyes have now darken.

He looks at your lips that is now glistering and swollen from the kiss, he finally marked a part of you with his spit, he can’t wait to corrupt your other holes.

He decided to let go, this was enough to get him by in the meantime.

You felt his hand loosening around your waist. You take that chance to go back to your seat.

“I….I.. think you need to leave Sir, thanks for the ride”, your hands nervously twist with each other on your lap as you mentally facepalm yourself

“Sir” where did that come from?

Hearing you call him Sir made him groan silently and made his cock stir painfully against the zipper of his pants.

His already rigorous cock getting harder. Duncan trying to recollect himself and not fuck you for the first time in the backseat of his car.. he thought you deserved better than that..a shy innocent young server…probably a virgin.

Well he hoped you still were a virgin, he hoped that fucker didn’t take your virginity. he wanted to claim you for himself, every part of you.

“Why don’t you leave then birdie?”

You felt your thighs automatically clenched and your pussy tingling.

he never called you that, why did you like him calling you that?

Duncan saw your legs clamping together and took note of that. He also didn’t realize you can blush harder than that….you realized you were in his car….idiot

You got out of his car and you heard Duncan tsk out of annoyance, “where is your manners kitten?”

Whats up with him? You thought to yourself.. you thanked him before why do you have to thank him again?

You did not care anymore, you just wanted to back home without any problems and arguments

You huffed in annoyance, “Thanks for the ride Sheriff.”

You uncomfortably felt him linger at your figure as you walked back to your house.

He loves seeing you in motion.you move better than the waves of the ocean, smoothly and flawlessly. His steel blue eyes scanned you up and down, consuming in your body with hunger; that waitress dress in pale blue making you look even more innocent and seductive, an odd combination. He believes only you can do that, besides Marilyn Monroe.

He hoped he can see you from your window, with no curtains or an open curtain, so that he can watch you domestically, wondering how you look like touching yourself when you feel needy at night, if you did touch yourself.

-

You entered home safe and sound then the realization hit you…. how does he know where you live? You didn’t give him your address? But then again he is the sheriff, he probably has access to all that information but …does he know everyone’s address by hard?..you doubt that.  Maybe he visited you with Xavier?

-

After he saw you close the door, he paused for a second to relish the taste of you left on his lips and was about to put his key back to the ignition, until he saw something interesting.. that made him much harder than he already was… your arousal on the seat of his car.

He reclined his head back to the head restraint,

“Fuck.. you are trying to kill me doll?"

He was so tempted to taste your arousal… he felt like an animal as he brought his index to his seat that was tainted with your nectar and brought it back to his lips.

A hungry growl grumbled in his chest, “tastier than any fuckin candy”

His chest was full of pride, he was glad he made you wet. Not Xavier. Him

He opens his car’s compartment, there lies a stolen panty of yours covered in blood from that day, he didn’t want your fresh arousal going to waste, mixing it with your bloody panty.

After arriving home that day because of sexual urges, he relieved himself to thought of you for a second time, with his left hand holding your used panty from a year ago and his right hand unbuckling his belt, to reveal his throbbed cock. He smeared on his long length, the pre-cum leaking at the head.

Working on his cock, he brings your panty to his nose to sniff your dried blood blended with your womanhood scent, it smelled pure and sweet just like you. To make himself cum faster, he thought of you coming to his office one day during your break and cockwarming him on his lap while he finishes up paperwork, imagining your painful whimpers, you fidgeting in his lap because you are finding it hard to adjust to his cock because of how big he was, he imagines his cock bottoms out in your tight pussy, and how you wet walls clenches around his big cock.

“Dun..c.an, you are too big”, you whine with a giggle, shifting it into a squeal

“Call me sir, love it when you call me sir darlin’”,  he growls in your ear

“Sir”  , he imagines you whimpering through tears from his cock’s intrusion in your narrowed pussy

“Dollface, you are taking me so well, taking me all in” he praises you in a slightly low deep voice

A groan leaves his chest as he starts pumping his erected length harder, going from the bottom all the way to the top, twisting his tip, and then back down.

He envisions his pelvis rubbing against your mound and clit, your pussy being pink and wet engulfing his cock, while his right hand is feeling your soft and pulpous butt cheek. Your chest is heaving right in front of his predatory eyes, he decides to save the lustful images of him sucking your tits and nibbling your areola another time.

He imagines your voice in his ear, calling him sheriff, sir, daddy and begging him to start fucking you.

As he is about to reach his high, his thrusts gets sloppier with his sticky hands, chanting your name like a prayer over and over again.

Groaning louder as his cock twitches, moaning your name louder as ropes of white soaks his hand, and soaking your panty a bit with his cum.

-

Tired to change out of your clothes, you quickly go to your bed situated on the left side of your room. You feel the most peaceful in your room, the only time you don’t feel like someone is watching you despite the reoccurring nightmares ever since the incident.

With the floral window curtains. Roses and daisies on a shelf next to a concealed window, giving floral scents all around your room to help calm your nerves and help you fall asleep. At least that was what your doctor had recommended as repression memories if stayed long-term can cause emotional health problems like anxiety, depression and post-traumatic stress disorder.

You immediately shift to the deep slumber of sleep, out of exhaustion.

-

You wake up the next day 10:30 am. You slept well that day oddly enough, a peaceful sleep. You were happy since you haven’t had any nightmares the past few days. That happiness shifted when you realized the sensual incident that happened in public, and you don’t know how you will be able to work in the diner again, especially how small this town is. You will be the talk of the town again, because obviously that situation had to be with the fucking Sheriff.

At least for today, you had the day off today.  You told your Boss Bob that you have an appointment with your doctor at 1 pm, and since you closed the diner yesterday he decided to leave you off the hook.

You made yourself some coffee, and went to your closet that was attached to the wall to choose an outfit. You decide to go with a yellow pastel cardigan with a yellow gingham dress that has a spaghetti strap, wear some rouge lipstick and yellow pale eyeshadow with your hair tied into a pony tail.

You then passed sometime on TV watching Bewitched re-runs, and called Carissa at around 12:30 pm during her break to check in on her brother.

Your hands swirling around the cord waiting for someone from the diner to pick up.

Selma answers, “Hello, Welcome to Jukeburgers, the best milkshakes in town!, what can I do for ya today!” You could hear Venus by Franke Avalon playing and muffled voices in the distance, seemed surprisingly busy today.

You answer loudly, “hey Selma, it’s Y/N, can you pass the phone to Carissa!”

“Oh, Y/N how you been? I heard from Adam about what happened with the Sheriff, so y’all a thing now huh?… You went for the old powerful friend.” Selma teases, her laughing echoing from the speaker.

Your heart felt like it was going to burst from your chest, you knew this was going to happen. Trying to sound strong and not in the verge of crying, “Whatever Selma, pass the phone to Carissa” your fingers twisted the cord nervously.

Selma just snickers and you hear her shouting out Carissa’s name to grab the phone

“Hey Y/N?”

“Cari!, I wanted to check up on you with Richard… you didn’t get to tell me what exactly happened…. is everything okay?” You utter in a concerned tone, gripping the phone handle harder.

“yeah yeah, we had to go to the hospital again, he got beat up again, but he didn’t wanna tell me why”  you hear her voice quivering on the other side.

You know Carissa is worried about him, as well as about his town finding out about his lifestyle.

She continues,“ You know Richard, I don’t want him to get locked up again, especially this town…views anyone that goes to the mental hospital… as lunatics”, you hear her voice quivering on the other side.

You remember Richard telling you that the Sheriff bailed him out the first time so now he owes the sheriff twice.

Why twice?

Was it because of his relationship with Jim Mason?

Does his sister know?

To not worry his sister, he sometimes tells you things that she doesn’t know and you were like Carissa to him. His big sister.

You snap out of your thoughts when you heard Carissa sniffling.

You hated hearing your friend’s sadness echoing from her voice, hoping you were there to hug her. “ I am glad he is okay at least, I miss seeing Richie, I will talk to him whether I get the chance… and you are right.”

You thought about what Carissa thought.

This small boring town feeds on gossip. It made you worried about Xavier’s parents…finding out about yesterday’s incident. Between the last girlfriend of their deceased son and one of his friends in an intimate scene.

What doesn’t help is that Xavier’s parents invited you and Duncan for dinner next week.

“He actually didn’t come today its as if he knows you might-“

You look at the time while you were on the phone, It was 12:40. Your eyes widen out of anxiety of being late. You cut your friend off without letting her finish the sentence.

“Oh shoot Carissa, I have to go now, my appointment is in 20 mins!”

“I really hope all goes well with the appointment, I know I tell you a thousand times but…I don’t really trust that doctor to be honest with ya”  she admits assuredly

There was a small pause, because you didn’t really know how to  react to that. He was the cheapest Doctor that you can afford. You really had no choice.

Carissa breaks the awkward silence, “well let me know what happens, hope it goes well!” She suddenly sounds different..and hopeful. Makes you happy that you can at least end the call with her tone shifting positively.

“Yeah.. I hope so.. bye Cari” you say weakly with a soft smile

The line goes dead.

-

You have been going to the doctor 11 months ago, it was recommended by the doctor who helped with your bruises and aided your surgery, Matt Rogers. Since there was nothing particular wrong with your brain scans. He thought it might be something psychological, and he was right. Your neurologist doctor Dr.Barnes, said it is due to trauma that your memories are repressed. Dr. Barnes said it is possible to have specific memories of people, locations and events repressed when it is too hard to bear. He also said It is possible for memories of abuse that have been forgotten for a long time to be remembered….you hope it isn’t related to abuse.

You feel nervous going to his office, you are honestly terrified of the idea of regaining back your memories, what if you find something really disturbing about yourself? About Xavier? How did you get those bruises? Why were some of your clothes missing? Why going to the doctor all those months didn’t help as much? Actually at all?

His office is located not that far off from the the Police department, in the neurology department of Willowdale public hospital.

“Welcome back Miss Y/N, please have a seat” signalling you to take a seat in front of his desk.

It doesn’t help that his office has muted painted walls, changed from age and a faint smell of mouth wash.

“So Y/N, has there been any recent changes?”, He asked while he scanned over your file.

“I finally have a small fragment of Xavier..in my head..” You pinpoint to right side of your forehead.

He knew about your relationship with Xavier and that you don’t remember much of it. It's weird how your brain almost erased that incident and Xavier out of your head.

“Finally some great news, please tell me more!”  He lowered your files to give you his undivided attention

“I..I don’t remember the incident, or any memories that I shared with him, just that Xavier had a similar car to Sheriff’s car, but a red version of it.”

There was a torturing pause, you look at your doctor, he seemed lost in thought with brows hollowed and biting his lower lip, he seemed anxious while clicking his retractable pen

You felt tension in the air, when you mentioned the Sheriff..but why?

He breaks a heavy smile,“Well, that’s great news to hear, maybe being  around the Sheriff might be in your favour huh?” he chuckles with a Chesire’s smirk on his face

Oh fuck. He probably heard about the incident that happened yesterday.

Your cheeks turn red as you turn your head to the left side of the room, focusing on the wall full of his certificates and accomplishments.

“Oh sorry, Y/N, that was unprofessional..covering his face with his hand, and then went back to look at your files

"No it’s all good Dr.” You gulped and nodded.

He clears his throat and asks, “ any nightmares lately?”

You shake your head, “I haven’t had one the past few days”

He nods while holding your file, “Good, Good. Are you taking the medications regularly at the appropriate time?”

“Yes…. but I haven’t remember anything that much sadly, is it supposed to take that much of a time?” You ask confusedly

“the brain is a complex neurological system, you can’t force its responses.”  thrusting out his lips in displeasure

You feel like you are wasting not only your time but also your money. But he is a doctor that you can afford so you have no other choice?

“Ah, I see, well as long as I get some answers pretty soon.” You look down on his Brintons carpet.

You felt your chest tightened out of sadness, will you ever find out what truly happened?

“So far, we are not sure if it is going to be a short term memory or long term memory loss Y/N, so what you can do is keep taking the medications, and you will be eventually get better Miss Y/N”

You nod with a fake smile.

Do you have a choice?

-

Duncan knew you were at the doctor today, he wish he was able to follow you, but he had a huge workload today. He wanted to see what kinda doll-like outfit you wore today. He particularly liked you in pastel colours and plaid skirts.

It was his break now.  He was waiting a call from a certain someone.

Clock ticking, and his legs bouncing up and down waiting for that fucker to call.

Phone rings once

Duncan takes the call.

“Whats the update?”

“Hi Sheriff, he continues "Well, your sweet gal remembered something..”

Duncan eyes widen, and his hands grips the cord aggressively

“What does she remember?”, Duncan says in a threatening voice

“She remembers he had the red car….. the one you got rid of”

His Adam apple gulps out of nerve but he is relieved you still don’t remember what happened that day.

“You fucker, you said those medications well help her not remember a fucking thing-“ his voice getting louder.

“Hey, hey, hey calm down there sheriff, no need to lose your temper, she hasn’t remember anything the past goddam 11 months! And I haven’t even tried hypnos-

“Listen you fuckin cunt, if she remembers anything I swear to God- I will put you in jail for your multiple-“  he chastised with a harsh tone.

“Alright Alright! No need to flip your lid! I will see what I can do to not make her remember a thing”  

“You better, or else I will make you lose your fuckin job and lose your pitiful wife” Sheriff expresses in an authoritative sound and hangs the phone stridently.

The Doctor had multiple rape attempts done. Duncan was called several times because of noise complaints, hearing ladies crying or screaming in multiple occasions at night, in drive-ins, parks and carnivals. 4 out of 10 times, it was Duncan who stopped the rape from occurring but he didn’t bring it up to the police department, and instead used this knowledge in his favour and out of power to gain information about his girl, when he discovered that he was going to be her neurologist, and to use him to manipulate her medications or her so that she doesn’t remember a thing.

He will do anything to make you not remember. He is shaping you to be his perfect little housewife. He got this far and he is not going back.

some songs mentioned in the chapter

https://open.spotify.com/track/3dDtXviPnTfLUg111MuTic?si=0d4f2a331a244100 - Midnight and The Stars and You by Ray Noble

https://open.spotify.com/track/2uwP4d0aVAo90aet6UnaRK?si=dc41f548d3324c9d - Venus by Frankie Avalon

Taglist: @instincts-baby @9layerdevilfoodcake @beautyiswithinchaos  @langdons-pinkyring @bloodcoatedeclipse   @plymptxn-reborn @5am-cigarette  @anakinsslag @michaellangdonstanaccount  @rexellaaa @jimmason @devilish-hecate @angelicmichael  @car241 @kitty4860 @deliciousartpoliticsdean @sojournmichael @ritualmichael  @darkladyslytherin 

@luciahoneychurch @saamwilsonn  @chicaluna2410  @honeyblossom56 

@codysprincexx​ @thatbit5 @wasteland-babe

[strangeradventuresofp]

symphony (arthur morgan x reader)

this story involves smut!! please do not read this if you are not over 18 years old

a/n: not entirely back to writing yet, but i did this and i sorta like it so lemme know what you think. also this is my first time ever writing smut that wasn’t for a roleplay so im super nervous about it. but anyway have a story with my favourite boy 

masterlist

It felt like your gut had been ripped open, like there were pins where your heart was before it cracked and shattered into thousands of fragments that would never be found. It was like someone had put a bullet in your skull and it was rattling around, hitting against every nerve and causing as much damage as it went along. 

Your blood turned to ice in your veins at the sight of him. Never had you seen him look so weak. So helpless. How in his voice he seemed okay despite the state of his body – at least two open wounds, his shirt stained multiple shades of red that weaved in with brown from what had already dried. Hot tears stung in your eyes when they studied him. Despite the warped vision, it was obvious to anyone that he was in pain. How his face contorted and twisted whilst Miss Grimshaw washed over his wounds to get a better look. The grunts and curses that left his dried lips were unbearable to listen to. 

Once you tore your eyes away from him, you assessed the others in the scene. Dutch stood at the foot of the table, his arms crossed over his chest and his hands balled into fists so tight that his knuckles whitened and cracked. Every now and again he mumbled words of encouragement or instructions to tell Miss Grimshaw what to do, despite her knowing much more about how to patch someone up. 

Miss Grimshaw had taken charge immediately, as soon as he had been brought into camp by the others on the job. She removed his shirt swiftly, washing his wounds with a cloth and water. Her expert hands cauterised his wounds and though she winced at every sound of discomfort, she knew that she was helping, and so she continued.

Tilly was around helping Miss Grimshaw, running to get things that she needed presently or that she would need, or that she might need just in case. She fed him alcohol for the pain and listened close when she was asked to do something to help.

You? You simply stood there, frozen. Miss Grimshaw had asked you for something, but you neither moved nor even heard her request for your brain was travelling at a speed that caused you physical pain. The noises he made left an awful taste in your mouth, knowing that you couldn’t help despite wanting to more than anything in the world. 

It was about then that Hosea took your hands in his and gently pulled you away with a “Come on, sweet girl.” And though you protested, you let him take you, because you couldn’t do anything else. You couldn’t just stand and watch him as he was an inch away from death. It hurt. Hosea took you far enough away that you couldn’t hear the sounds of pain that each felt like a bullet to the chest.

He held you to him, wrapping his arms around your shoulders.

“I’m sorry, Hosea.” Was the first thing that came out of your mouth once you had remembered how to use your voice. The man smiled a fatherly smile.

“Nothing to be sorry for. Nothing at all.” He assured, though you couldn’t seem to meet his eye. Gently, he squeezed your hand as a sign of reassurance. Though, reassurance for what, you couldn’t be entirely sure. “I know you wanted to help. It’s difficult when the people we love get hurt.”

You scoffed. “I… I don’t even know what bein’ in love feels like. But, I guess, maybe…” Trailing off, your mind began to wander just as the thoughts pulled a sigh from your lips. 

“Hosea, I don’t—”

“Do you think I don’t see the way you look at him?” Hosea asked with a raised eyebrow, clearly amused that you had tried to deny his claims. 

“Sweetheart, you look at him like you’re starving and he’s a hot meal.”

“I do?” Your voice sounded so small against the deafening silence. As much as you wanted to deny it, Hosea was right, and he knew it. It was terrifying. “I—I’ve never been in love before.” Startling thoughts began cascading down you. You and Arthur were close, real close. You told each other everything. You could be vulnerable around each other. You were there for each other. Was all of that about to be ruined because you were stupid enough to catch feelings?

“What do I do?” 

Hosea chuckled at that. “Get some rest, sweetheart. Try not worry about him, he’ll be fine. He always is.” While you appreciated his attempt of reassurance, you honestly didn’t feel much better at all. Instead, your brain was flooding with the thought of being in love with Arthur on top of the question of whether he was actually going to survive his injuries. 

You stayed just out of camp for a while longer, until you could hear the noise inside start to die down until it was obvious that everyone was asleep. You crept back in, being sure to not make too much noise, you didn’t want to wake anyone. No, not that, you didn’t want anyone to know that you were visiting him. Grabbing a chair, you pulled it up beside where Arthur’s was body was lay and took a seat. You looked over him, humming lightly, Miss Grimshaw really did a good job of patching him up. Your hands wrapped themselves around one of his, and you simply sat at his side until morning, being sure to move away at least two hours before everyone else woke up.

~~~

A few weeks later 

~~~

Chores. Although you helped out on jobs sometimes, since Arthur and Hosea taught you how to shoot properly, you enjoyed helping out around camp, too. It was the least you could do to help out Miss Grimshaw, considering she saved the man that you loved. Besides, most members of the camp were out either on jobs or shopping, or at saloon, so, you were spending your time washing clothes to help out.

Arthur, luckily, survived his injuries and although he was still recovering, he was back up and out on jobs again. Dutch did make sure not to put him on any dangerous (by his standard) jobs, despite Arthur protesting because he’s fine, it was just a couple of scratches and—Goddamn it, Dutch I don’t need supervision, I’m alright and—

“Careful you don’t rub a hole in that shirt.” A deep chuckle came from beside you. Your head snapped up immediately at the sound.

“Arthur!” You only then noticed how hard you had been squeezing the shirt in your hands and how hard you were scrubbing it against the washboard. Loosening your grip, you smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, I—Wait a minute, what the hell are you doing up and around? Dutch told you that you rest today.” A laugh left Arthur’s lips as he held his hands up in surrender. “You should be resting.” With that, you stood, ushering him back to his tent where he could lay down. He took a seat on his bed, looking up at her with a strange expression. Was he… Nervous?

He reached out for your hand, gently tugging you over to take a seat beside him. Instead of letting go of your hand, he held it, his gaze fixed on it. He delicately traced over the veins that peeked through your skin, too delicate, like if he held you any firmer that you would shatter before him. His eyebrows drew together, and you hummed slightly, searching his eyes.

“Arthur? Y’alright?” You asked softly, your eyes furrowing in concern. 

“I’m alright, darlin’, I just…” He took a deep breath. “Going through all that and, not knowing whether I was gonna die, it, uh, it made me realise a couple things. Shit, uh…” 

“It’s okay. Take your time.” You assured, a smile crossing your face. Arthur looked up at you, a troubled look in his eyes that gave you an awful feeling in your stomach. You breathed out through parted lips, ready to take in the bad news that he was about to tell you. His eyes flickered slightly, quickly looking down your lips before he swallowed thickly, looking back up at your eyes.

“It made me realise that, I’m terrified of losing you. And—And I think that I… Shit. I’m in love with you.” Arthur’s face burnt up entirely as he confessed, flushing red from head to toe. When you didn’t respond, only blinking blankly at him, he pulled his hands away from yours, looking away as he rubbed the nape of his neck anxiously. Your hand reached out to cup his cheek, tilting his face back to you where you planted a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. You could feel how his breath was pulled from his lungs as you did so and his eyes lit up, though his face still looked worried.

“I love you, Arthur Morgan. More than anything in the world.” And with that, his lips captured yours in such a way that had your own breath hitching at the sensation. Your lips danced against each other’s rhythmically, and your chests moved up and down in sync. 

You had always loved Arthur. From the moment that he had saved your life in the woods when you first met. This big, scary outlaw meant everything to you. This gang was the closest thing you had to family. No, it was your family. Things had always been different with Arthur, though. Things you had never given a second thought about until now. Longing glances from across camp, touches that were a little too long to simply be considered friendly. Putting his arm around you at the campfire so that you wouldn’t be cold, bringing each other stew so that the other wouldn’t starve. The way he spoke to you; how his voice changed to be much softer when he addressed you. The urgency in his voice when he thought that you were in danger. The way that he always worried about you, just how you worried about him. The way that he looked at you, just how you looked at him.

It all made sense now.

The kiss was incapsulating. In this moment where nothing else mattered, merely you and him. You each opened your mouths, delving your tongues in to dance with the other as your tastes swirled together. He tasted like honey and cigarette smoke, you tasted like wild berries and rum. His hand hovered over the curve of your waist for a few seconds, before he hesitantly placed it down, pulling you close to his chest. Your arms snaked up his chest and wound around his neck. Arthur hooked an arm around your waist, gently lifting and shifting you over to sit in his lap.

You broke the kiss, breathing heavier than usual as you looked at him. A sweet shade of rose covered the cheeks that you gently pecked before stroking with your thumbs whilst you cupped his face. 

“We don’t have to go any farther.” Arthur declared; his voice low despite there being no one around. You breathed for a moment, scared of all the new feelings that erupted throughout your body. Though, the fireworks in your stomach couldn’t be denied. So, you smiled.

“You—Your wounds…” You mentioned, and he chuckled softly.

“Darlin’, I’m fine. But we can stop if you ain’t comfortable.”

“I don’t want to stop.” 

A smile spread over Arthur’s lips at your words and he hummed in response. “Tell me if you wanna stop, okay?” He asked, cupping your cheek, to which you nodded before leaning in to kiss his lips once again. You couldn’t get enough of him. He tasted so good. Whilst your lips worked against his, his practised hands ran over your body and his fingers began to work at the buttons on your shirt, threading them back through the hole before pushing it off of your shoulders. His hands moved up to knead softly at your breasts, rolling your nipples between his calloused fingers which earned a mewl from your throat. 

He pulled away from your lips, jaw falling slack when his eyes fell over your now bare top half. He hummed as his excitement grew, moving your head to the side with his thumb before burying his face in your neck which he peppered with open mouthed kisses and gentle nips that began to purple the flushed skin, branding you to him. With your noises of approval and your fingers unthreading the buttons of his blue shirt egging him on, he began to suck the skin at your clavicle to which a breathy moan was pulled from your throat. 

Shrugging his shirt from his shoulders, you moved your legs on either side of his hips, straddling him. Your fingers gently caressed each of his scars that you felt. He was beautiful. As he continued to leave his mark on you, your hands reached up to tangle in his locks, tugging ever so slightly, but a growl left him, nevertheless.

“Do it again.” Arthur pleaded, his lips brushing against your skin to cause goose bumps. A low groan fell out of his kiss swollen lips when you repeated the action. His large hands cupped your ass, pulling you closer against him, his arousal rubbing against you through layers of fabric that separated you from feeling all of him. You needed to feel all of him. You moaned at the contact, fumbling messily with his jeans while you kissed him, but he pulled away. 

He picked you up, laying you down before he shed himself of the remainder of his clothing. While his back was turned, you did the same. When Arthur turned around, he bit his lip at the sight of you, flushed, sprawled out for him on his bed. He licked his lips hungrily, cock twitching before he lay above you, pressing a bruising kiss to your lips which you held while his hand dug lower. His fingers spread you open, teasing by gently brushing against your clit. He smirked at your wetness.

“Arthur—” You whined. “Please.” He took your endorsement, groaning in delight at the sounds you made when he quickened his pace, curling his fingers inside you. The hot coil began to grow in your stomach, and he watched as you writhed beneath him, moaning deliciously at how good he was making you feel. His cock was painfully hard and ached for release, but he wouldn’t stop until he had brought you over the edge at least once before he fucked you. 

“This for me?” Your hips bucked up in a silent plea for more friction and he chuckled slightly into your mouth before pushing a digit inside you. With a sharp inhale beforehand, you moaned in approval, causing him to add a second finger, pumping in and out of you at a slow pace. 

“So good for me, darlin’.” Arthur’s voice was husky when he spoke, his words wrapped in lust and desire, eyes dark with adoration. His free hand reached up to toy with your nipples, pinching gently, teasingly to bring you closer to your release. 

It wasn’t until your hips bucked uncontrollably and a strangled cry left your plump lips that Arthur pulled his fingers out of you, the hot coil snapping in such a wonderful way that left you aching for more. His mouth opened and closed around his fingers, coated with your juices. When the taste hit his mouth, a low groan rumbled in his chest, and the mushroom head of his member leaked with arousal. 

Arthur didn’t touch himself once until he had brought you over the edge one more time with his tongue alone, and when that hot coil broke in your stomach once again, he lapped up the remainder of your juices, making sure to not waste a single drop by licking along the insides of your thighs for any excess. His cock throbbed painfully from the influx of lust, his hand stroking himself up and down a couple of times before he pushed himself into you. The sound you made from him entering you alone nearly made Arthur cum there and then, but he was determined to make you feel good. After pushing in about halfway, he pulled back out completely, groaning at the sight of your slick on his cock. You whined at the lack of contact, reaching to touch him but he swatted your hand away.

“I don’t think so.” He said with a chuckle before pushing into you entirely. You cried out, digging your nails into his shoulders, loving how he stretched you. “Mm—” Arthur’s hips thrusted against yours once as he moaned at how you clenched around him. “Such a good girl for me.” He set a fast pace, each thrust increasing in power and might, and soon enough an animalistic desire consumed him, his hips clashing against yours. Your names left each other’s lips among curses and beautiful sounds of pure pleasure. Series’ of moans spilled out from your reddened lips.

Arthur kissed you, hard. You could feel the swelling of your lips. The bristles of his unkempt stubble tickled your skin. When your tongues met, you groaned at the taste, your taste. Your nails sunk further into his skin and he groaned at the sensation, his spare hand reached down to focus your sensitive bundle of nerves with the pad of his thumb. His cock throbbed against your walls as the familiar feeling began to grow in your stomach once again. He pounded into you with a near primal hunger, your plea for him and your beautiful sounds being the only thing to fill his ears. Arthur made his own share of delicious noises, both of your voices ruined with pleasure though it sounded like the most stunning symphony.

You felt your third climax nearing, the white-hot coil repeating but so much stronger than before. With your legs wrapped around his waist and his hands on you, he made you feel wanted. He made you feel loved. It was nearing closer, and closer and you covered your face to which Arthur removed your hands from your face, pinning them above your head with one hand while the other returned to its spot at your clit.

“Nuh-uh, darlin’. Hafta see you.”

Soon enough, your release washed over you like a wave of pleasure. A ravishing sound forced itself from you, your legs trembled, your body shaking violently from the pleasure. Arthur felt your climax all over him, his body entirely racked with pleasure. As you clenched around him, he pushed in once more and pulled out, releasing with a husky shout that you would dream of for weeks on end. His juices lay atop the bedsheets and he sighed happily, pulling you in for a soft, loving kiss.

Arthur reached over into his pile of clothes to find a dark piece of cloth, his bandana. He soaked in some water from a bucket outside his tent and gently dragged it over you skin, revelling in how incessantly beautiful you were. At first, when he reached your folds, you whined from the overstimulation, but soon relaxed at the feeling.

Once you were cleaned up, he lay beside you, cradling you in his strong arms. You pecked his lips before resting your head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. Your eyes fluttered closed and Arthur hummed contently. “I love you, darlin’.”

lmk if you want to be added to any of my taglists!!<3

“I love you too, Arthur.”

[nmikaelsonimagines]

Right Where You Left Me: A Klaus Mikaelson Imagine

Request from @s-r-amikaelson: hi, lovely, i saw your "Evermore" list, so could please do a Klaus x Reader with the song "right where you left me" from Taylor? Kisses, sweetie

Hope this is okay for you lovely, and enjoy x

Want to hear the song? Find a link to it just below:

Right Where You Left Me

Friends break up, friends get married Strangers get born, strangers get buried Trends change, rumors fly through new skies

He wouldn’t be there to see it all happen.

Klaus wouldn’t be by your side, watching the world change like he had for so many centuries. He wouldn’t watch your friends get married, the idea of your own wedding disintegrating before your very eyes.

He wouldn’t be there to watch his daughter grow up, to watch her become the bright young girl that she was destined to be. He wouldn’t be there to listen to you tell her stories all about her father, to watch you cry in the shadows when she was fast asleep, missing him deeply.

He wouldn’t be there to watch humans crumble into ash, as they always did, buried in the New Orleans graveyard where their loved ones came to see them. He wouldn’t be there to watch any of it.

He wouldn’t be there to watch the seasons change, the leaves falling, holding your hand as you walked through the woods, talking about everything and nothing.

That’s what ran through your head when he looked at you for the final time, sorrow in his eyes, when he whispered that single word that only you could hear.

“Run.”

And you did, his screams as Marcel plunged that dagger into him echoing in your ears for years to come.

But I'm right where you left me Matches burn after the other Pages turn and stick to each other

One year.

One year without him. Hope was three now, walking and calling you her auntie. She had picked up a particular affinity for colouring in, not quite staying in the lines, but that didn’t matter. She had adopted her father’s artistic ability, it seemed.

You looked over at her latest picture, telling Hayley you would tidy up, letting the hybrid get an early night. Hope was already in bed, fast asleep.

You hadn’t slept in a year. Not when you knew that Klaus was in unimaginable pain. Maybe it would have been better if you had the support of his family around, but they were just as incapacitated. You picked up Hope’s picture and made your way to the attic.

It was dark, and you struck a match to light the candle on the wall, the only source of light in that dingy old place. Four coffins came into your view and you strode over to the nearest one. Elijah.

You picked up the book you had left there from the night before and sat. The pages stuck together, but that was its age. “You’re missing out on this one, Elijah. Klaus always told you it was a good read.”

And you started to read, Hope’s picture on your lap as you were reminded of her father, voice catching as you tried not to cry.

Wages earned and lessons learned But I, I'm right where you left me

Two years.

Two years without him. Hope had just turned four, her artistic ability improving as she had gotten better at staying in the lines. The question she asked you still echoed in your ears, your heart hurting as you answered it with a smile. “Do you think Daddy will like this when he comes home, Auntie Y/N?”

When he comes home. Her innocent hopefulness kept you sane most days.

You had gotten a job now, a waitress in a restaurant downtown where no-one knew your name or who your family was. It was something to get you out of the house, to keep your mind off the thought of Klaus going through hell. At first, it had been great, but then your boss had put you on night shifts, and that was when the undesirables came out to play.

You hung your coat up before making your way up to the attic, the ghost of that man’s hands still making you cringe. It wasn’t the first time someone had shown more than an interest in you, but you had always had someone to help you escape.

You walked over to her coffin and sat. You put your hand on the lid, and sighed. “Hey, Bex. Could have used you today.” Rebekah was always the one to get you out of those sorts of situations, usually with a threatening comment. “Klaus would have lost his mind.”

Klaus, always the jealous type, would have run to avenge you. You had always moaned about it, but this time, you realised you missed it.

Missed him.

Help, I'm still at the restaurant Still sitting in a corner I haunt Cross-legged in the dim light

Three years.

Three years without him. Hope was five now, and had moved from colouring in to painting. You had bought her a set of block paints for her birthday and were more than happy to watch her paint flowers with five red petals and a yellow centre, green stalks leading down to two leaves at the bottom. More often than not, she ended up with more of it on her hands than on the paper, and she liked to make you laugh by painting your cheeks with it.

To make you smile for when Daddy comes home, she would say, your heart breaking.

You had quit your job after one too many handsy customers. You were just happy to be the woman in the corner of the restaurant, staring at a whiskey, passers-by telling you to cheer up because it might never happen.

You stumbled home after such an occurrence, alcohol slurring your movements. They were right, you needed some fun, but the only person you could think of having such fun with was lying in a coffin. Up in the attic again, you made your way over to where Kol Mikaelson rested, perhaps in more danger than any of his siblings.

“Don’t you die on me, you git.” You patted the lid of the coffin, the familiar nickname rolling off your tongue. “I need someone to get into trouble with.” You chuckled, remembering. “Someone else for Klaus to shout at.”

Klaus, whose shouts had been turned into agonising screams.

They say, "What a sad sight" I, I swear you could hear a hair pin drop Right when I felt the moment stop

Four years.

Four years without him. Hope was a lively six-year-old now, and her artistic skills had improved greatly. Actual pictures were created now, an ability to rival anyone of her age, maybe even her father one day. But you still held onto that first coloured-in picture, keeping it safe to show to Klaus when he came home.

When. You tried to hold onto Hope’s optimism, but it had been four years now and you were finding it difficult. You still held onto your spot in the corner of the restaurant, watching customers look at you with pity in their eyes. The worst was the recently engaged couple, the woman’s hair pinned up to make her look like a film star.

Once, you had got ready for parties and made an effort to look like that. But, you’d always had help from a friend, a sister really. Of course, that witch was now sleeping with her siblings.

You sat by Freya’s coffin, cross-legged, and laid your head on the lid. “You would have loved her dress, Freya. She walked in and it was like everything just stopped. You remember when people used to look at us like that?” You smiled, remembering your entrances to such parties. “But all I ever cared about was Klaus.”

He would take your arm and lead you to the dance floor, laughing as you tried not to step on his toes.

You had never wanted to dance more.

Glass shattered on the white cloth Everybody moved on, I, I stayed there Dust collected on my pinned-up hair

Five years.

Five years without him. Hope was now seven, a fact that didn’t seem possible. You looked at her in the garden, her little easel set up as she painted, the sun shining down on her. You took a sip of your water, having moved away from alcohol at Hayley’s request. When Klaus came home, he wouldn’t want the love of his life to be a drunken mess, and Hope certainly didn’t want that of her auntie.

When. It seemed like such a useless word. The world was changing before your eyes, and you were still here, waiting for something that would probably never happen. Hayley told you to keep the faith, but it was getting harder and harder with each day that passed. Speaking of, the hybrid walked over and took a seat next to you.

“Y/N?”

“Yes?” You continued to sip at your drink, looking at Hope.

“Look at me.” You turned to face Hayley, a smile playing on her lips. Her next words made you drop the glass you were holding, fragments scattering over the white tablecloth. But neither of you cared as the dust that had gathered on you as a result of waiting blew away.

“Y/N, it’s time.”

Time to get your family back. Time to get him back. Time for Klaus to come home.

They expected me to find somewhere Some perspective, but I sat and stared

Five years and two days.

Five years and two days without him. Hope was excited to see her father, as were you. You had volunteered to stay and look after her while Hayley went to save the day. She had looked surprised when you suggested such a thing, but understood when you told her that you weren’t quite sure if you could face Klaus in that state, his screams from five years ago still waking you up in the night.

You sat on the sofa, staring into space, waiting and wondering. A small figure curling up next to you snapped you out of your thoughts. Hope. She should have been in bed, and you told her as much. She shook her head, and you knew she couldn’t sleep. Holding her hand tight, you led her back to her room. And that was when she asked.

“Tell me something about Dad.”

You smiled, knowing the perfect place to start. The story of how you met him, of how you had fallen in love with him, about how he was kind and gentle, fierce and protective when he needed to be. It wasn’t long before Hope had fallen asleep and you moved away as so not to wake her.

Then the headlights glared through the window.

Then, as Klaus had told you five years and two days ago, you ran.

Only this time, it wasn’t away from him.

Right where you left me You left me no, you left me no You left me no choice but to stay here forever

Five years, two days and three minutes.

Five years, two days and three minutes without him. Hope was fast asleep, but you didn’t care if you woke her when you opened the front door with such force, it hit the wall. You didn’t care when you saw them. Elijah, your reading partner. Rebekah, your wing-woman. Kol, your partner in crime. Freya, your dearest friend.

And then-

Klaus. He hadn’t noticed you yet, talking to his siblings. But when he turned, the smile in his lips transforming into a look of shock, everything stopped. You felt your heart heal itself when he walked towards you, disbelief in every step. “Hello.”

“Hi, Klaus.”

“You stayed?” You smiled, knowing that Klaus had always believed he didn’t deserve you, probably thought you would take his absence as an opportunity to move on.

“You kind of didn’t give me a choice.” You shrugged nonchalantly, earning a confused look from him. “I love you, you idiot.”

And then that shock turned back into a smile, a grin that stretched for miles. “And I you, Y/N.”

Five years, two days and three minutes.

You would never go that long without Klaus Mikaelson by your side again. You would make sure of that.

Masterlist  

Evermore Masterlist

[sweet-evie]

what’s your headcanons about the duo? recently i’ve rewatched the resurrection movies and cant help build various scenario in my head.

here’s mine though. Sorry it’ll be super long

• Lelouch found that CC’s hand was always cold so he likes to hold it all the time.

• During their early journey, they’ve decided to bought a trailer. But lelouch cant drive, so CC teach him one.

• CC’s were sensitive to cold but too proud to said it. One night, Lelouch realizes that she’s shaking in their tent and silently takes her in his arm

• He hates when CC talks about the mindless state he was. Not because how useless he is, but because it reminds him of how much a pain she suffers for him. It breaks his heart.

• Lelouch found a woman in desperate need of labor at the forest one day. CC’s expertly help her and deliver the baby successfully. That night, he told her that when CC names that baby girl, he felt like wanted to pick her up and told the entire world of how proud he is for having CC in his side.

• He’s blushed like a pig whenever CC’s mention the word ‘bath’ for he knows she’s seen it all.

• Lelouch good at singing, and CC’s could play ukulele. One day, nunnally visits them in their hideout and found the immortal duo lovingly sang a song together while holding each other close.

• They dont says ‘I love you’ to each other, instead lelouch once declared “If i had to choose one to spent eternity with, I’ll choose you. Not because your loyalty but because i knew life wouldnt be so bored with you”

• Lelouch takes various jobs over the years. He started as a writer for many good years to sponsor their endeavors. Then he learns from Jeremiah to farm. A teacher, doctor, programmer.

• Lelouch found it hard to express his affection towards her so he always opted to talk about their fragment endeavors.

• Until they settle down in a secluded house and found himself the pleasure of sex.

• CC secretly dying for lelouch to kiss her. Not like that she cant, she just want him to be the one who initiate it.

• At one point in their life, CC’s longs for a child they could never have. one day, there’s an orphan baby borns in the hospital he works for and he told her they could adopt him.

• Lelouch would never said it but he could start another rebellion for CC.

• Sometimes during the next movie timeline, CC’s were captured and tortured. She doesnt wakes up for several weeks due to they tamper with her code. When she wakes up, CC found Lelouch kills hundred of them to avenge her.

This is a fanfic all on its own. 🤩 You're tempting me to write things or start stuff I shouldn't because there are other stories that need writing. 🤣 Reading and imagining this made me want to cry because I can totally picture everything in my head.

As a fact, most of yours parallel with mine, mainly these:

He hates when CC talks about the mindless state he was. Not because how useless he is, but because it reminds him of how much a pain she suffers for him. It breaks his heart.

Lelouch takes various jobs over the years. He started as a writer for many good years to sponsor their endeavors. Then he learns from Jeremiah to farm. A teacher, doctor, programmer.

CC secretly dying for lelouch to kiss her. Not like that she cant, she just want him to be the one who initiate it.

Post Re;surrection, here's my headcanons 😉

C.C. is the one making the living during the early days of their Geass hunt, mostly because Lelouch needs to stay hidden.

C.C. is the one who reminds Lelouch to call Shirley or at least see her...

They travel mainly by sea or land. No airfares here, considering the nature of airport security.

As well connected to shady people as I think C.C. is, I doubt she has top-level clearance to even sneak into an airport undetected... They could, but it's too much work for their current circumstance and is more trouble than it's worth. One day, they will. But in the beginning of their search, nah.

Lelouch will make sure to procure fake passports, IDs, and everything else.

Wait... On second thought, Lelouch has a Geass. I almost forgot... 🤣 FUCK! I guess they can travel by plane. (I still think it's impractical). But they can only do it if they successfully tie up loose ends along the way.

Lelouch picks up online ghost writing or proofreading as a career once they settle in Switzerland.

All the online money he earns goes to C.C.'s bank account, because he hasn't established a fake one yet.

It bothers him that C.C. is in-charge of their funding.

Lelouch does a financial audit every month. He used to do it bi-weekly, but C.C. told him that over-obsessing about budget is never a good thing.

On a more serious note, I think C.C. cuts back on her pizza eating for the first few years.

C.C. has a subdued personality for the first few months or the first year together with L.L...

Lelouch spends discreet time trying to coax C.C.'s mischievousness out again. He kind'a misses it.

He asks C.C. about his mindless state once in a while, when it's necessary. But he avoids it because he hates how useless he was, and he hates being reminded that he burdened her so.

It takes a while before they end up actually kissing.

They're open to talking about their deep thoughts, but are still a teeny bit hesitant to cross the line to romance. (Even if they're practically married at this point).

They have matching rings. (Not engagement or wedding rings or promise rings. Just matching jewelry -- according to them anyway).

They're fucking married.

Lelouch caught C.C. singing lullabies to him once, because she thought he was falling asleep.

C.C.'s multi-lingual skills will shine.

Lelouch is beginning to think world history on the internet is unreliable. Mostly because of C.C. (That girl is a walking encyclopedia, literally).

C.C. loves surprising Lelouch with random facts about her involvement in some events during history. She does it at the most random times, but mostly when they're on a Geass hunt.

They mouth "I love you" once in a while. They don't say it out loud. Just mouth it... 😍🥰

Hugging... Lots of hugging.

Lelouch eventually replaces Cheese-kun. 👏 It's his greatest achievement yet.

Lelouch and C.C. will cease to exist one day. Especially when all those spare body parts from C's World run out, because Lelouch broke that place. (CG creators, please explain the lore behind the Code and the Geass).

[itcantbe]

Zelink Week Day 6

We're nearly to the end of @zelinkweek2021! Today's prompt is "abnormality: malice/timeline alteration." I focused on the timeline alteration (in a roundabout way), though I suppose malice is in there a bit as well. The last two days of Zelink Week 2021 will be the last two chapters of "Under the Boardwalk." I've been so thrilled with how much excitement I've seen for this story and the great comments everyone has left here and on ao3. I appreciate it a lot! Today's chapter takes place during the events of chapter 2. It's a bit of a short one, but I promise I make it up to you in the final chapter.

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Read on ao3

Under the Boardwalk: Down By The Sea

The past few weeks had been wonderful. And weird. And horrible. And frustrating.

After that first night, when their “date” had gone so horribly wrong, after Link had figured her out, after she had broken his heart, they had reached a sort of understanding. He answered any question she might have about park operations, Ganondorf, what went on in the castle. He helped her sneak around the park at night after it closed a few times: photographing broken rides, missing caution signs, and anything else she thought might be useful. Her pictures had gotten much better once she didn’t have to hide what she was doing.

And, since he didn’t have a car, she’d take him home. Or they’d grab a bite to eat together, and she’d pay because she was thanking him for his help. It wasn’t a date.

But they talked, since sitting in awkward silence was unpleasant even if Link did hate her. If he did hate her, that was fine, since she hated herself for lying to him. For still lying to him. Their conversation had been stilted at first, the specter of her deception hanging between them like a dark, heavy curtain. But over the course of a few weeks, it settled into something comfortable, something easy. Her lie still hovered in the back of their every interaction, but it became less noticeable as the days passed. At first they only talked about her investigation, and made plans on how to gather more information. But soon they started to talk about more, and started sharing about their lives.

They talked about school. She talked about how it had been hard to prove herself in journalism school since she was the daughter of the editor in chief of the Hyrule Star Fragment. How she didn’t want to coast on name recognition, but despite how hard she had worked, no one took her seriously. He talked about how hard school had been. How he had been trying so hard to juggle school and work that he ended up failing at both, quietly admitting to her one night that he had gotten fired from his job and dropped out of school. How he still wasn’t sleeping well because the anxiety and stress of it all kept his mind spinning, even now.

“I guess I’m glad the park didn’t seem to care when they hired me.”

“How do you mean?”

Link shrugged, swiping a french fry through the mess of ketchup on his plate before popping it in his mouth. Zelda watched each movement and may have stared at his lips for a few moments longer than necessary. He had such a nice mouth, with full lips that she briefly imagined pressed to her own. He finished chewing and swallowed, and her imagination followed, her lips traveling from his mouth, across the line of his chin and down his throat, and then down, down, down … A blush rose to her cheeks when she realized she was ogling him like a drooling creep. Instead she pulled her gaze up to meet his eyes. His beautiful eyes, such an unusual shade of blue, that she could easily lose herself in all day.

Thankfully Link continued to talk, pulling her out of her increasingly lascivious thoughts.

“Yeah, they hired me on the spot. Barely asked any questions, just told me when to come in and who to report to.”

“Wow, that’s …”

“Lucky, right? And I get paid right away, they just give me an envelope of cash at the end of the week.”

“Wait, what? Did you fill out any forms, leave any references, anything?”

He shrugged again, hitching one shoulder up before dropping it down again. Zelda thought about sitting in his lap, running her fingers over that shoulder and down his back. Digging her nails into that shoulder as he … Goddess, what is WRONG with you? she asked herself.

“No, just left them my name and phone number.”

“No tax forms? They don’t take anything out of your wages for taxes? Link, that’s illegal! That’s tax fraud!”

She hauled out her notebook and wrote down what he’d told her, as well as some questions to ask.

Look into Gdorf tax records Research Hrl/C-Town employment law Proof of tax fraud????

“So this helps? You can use this for your story?”

Zelda looked up from her notes, the hopeful look on his face going right to her heart.

“Oh, this is the best angle yet! It could be difficult to pin Ganondorf on these other issues, but if anything would get him shut down and investigated, it’s tax fraud!”

Link’s face lit up at her words, as if she’d handed him a gift of the thing he wanted most in the world. She wanted to shove the table aside, tackle him to the floor and kiss him all over.

“I’ll need to visit the municipal tax records office tomorrow. I could use your help … if you’re not busy. I’ll make it worth your while!”

He looked at her a moment, as if considering his answer. She kept her eyes on her notes, trying to look as if his response either way didn’t matter to her. Making it worth his while meant buying him food. The boy loved to eat, attacking his food with relish, delighting in every bite he took, in a manner that always sent her imagination spiraling off into heated territory. Zelda wished making it “worth his while” meant burying his head between her thighs and digging her fingers into his hair as she moaned his name. She shoved the image aside before she could go much further and squirmed in her chair uncomfortably. She needed to get home before she did something she regretted and drove him off for good.

Lunch. She would buy him lunch.

“Uh … yeah, I’m free tomorrow. I can help you.”

She gave him a brilliant smile, relieved that he wanted to help, that he was willing to spend more time with her. Zelda greedily concocted reasons to spend time with him, claiming she needed his help, that she couldn’t do any of it without him. Which was true, despite her desire to shoulder it all on her own so she could prove herself. His help made it all so much easier, so much more pleasant. Almost fun.

And she could revel in the occasional shy smile Link gave her before he remembered that he was still upset with her, in the heat and electricity that seemed to shoot between them every time they accidentally brushed together. The way he helped her organize her notes. The way he suggested new places to look for information, or new angles to approach the story. The way she could pretend they had something more than a working relationship, that she might have a chance to enact some of the fantasies she seemed to almost drown in whenever they were together. The way she could pretend she hadn’t treated him like crap from the beginning, hadn’t lied and led him on.

Then maybe they could have dated for real. Maybe she could have kissed him in every way she had thought of in the past few weeks. Maybe she could have had something meaningful with him. Or maybe she could have done the work herself, being honest and approaching him as a source and nothing more. Maybe then he wouldn’t have gotten as involved as he did. Maybe then she wouldn’t be watching Ganondorf dangle him by the throat over the mouth of the most dangerous slide ever built, Link’s legs and arms held together by zip ties so that he couldn’t do anything to help himself. Maybe then Link wouldn’t die because of her.

Zelda had planned to take Link somewhere a little nicer after they broke into Ganondorf’s office, to dig through the file cabinets and desk drawers. She had planned to tell him her true feelings. Maybe he would have forgiven her, and they could start over. Maybe she could have held his hand again. Maybe they could have been anywhere but here.

Zelda screamed as Ganondorf let Link go and he disappeared into the black depths of the slide. Nothing mattered any more except Link; not her reputation, not her story, not shutting down the park. Only making sure Link was okay, that he lived, that he didn’t regret the day they’d met, and every minute he’d spent with her after that.

She didn’t take time to think, or try to escape her bonds, or to call for help. She just acted, adrenaline surging through her as she counted every minute that passed as one less minute of Link’s survival. All she did was note how close Ganondorf was himself to the entrance to the slide, and how all it would take one good shove to send him down.

And she attacked.

[dumbassacademia]

One time in a high school English class I was supposed to write an essay about what makes me different from other people (by extension the goal was what makes me special) and I wrotr my essay about the fact that I'm actually not particularly different or special and that I am in fact a cog in the grand machine in life and that most people are as well and that's okay, that our emphasis on our differences tends to make us believe that we have to be special or exceptional in some way to be important, and that even if you are special in some ways it doesn't make you extraordinary, it just makes you a person and I basically ended it by saying that we don't need to strive to make ourselves the best because we're already the best at being ourselves and without everyone existing and doing and living exactly the way we are, the entire machine would break down because everyone is already contributing to it just by being here and being a part of things

anyway my classmates loved it and we talked about how much pressure we feel to be important all the time and how nice it is to acknowledge that we dont Have to be great to be valuable and thay was really nice

and my teacher loved it and asked me if she could share it with the other teachers and I said she could and they all loved it too and then all these adults kept telling me how special and smart I was for writing this essay and long story short I ended up snapping a pen in half when a couple of them were like "You should read this at a school board meeting! you're so wise and this is so special you should be recognized for it!" Because like...yes that's nice and it feels good to be told how good a job I did but also how do you so entirely miss the point like that and then my hand started bleeding from getting stabbed by a pen fragment and I went to the nurses office and the teachers stopped talking to me about it

[hasliaran]

Meet Motus.

I can’t take it. I am going off grid for this month since it is finals, so see ya all in a couple of weeks if I am still alive.

Last post till then.

Don’t you just love/hate it when you listen to a song and suddenly you get a whole holy story crash down on you that you fixate on to make when you’re actually suppose to make notes for finals? Have mercy on me brain!

Song- Ga1ahad and Scientific Witchery by Mili

(Copy pasted from my rant in discord because I was too lazy to retype the whole thing again)

Motus, how he came to be.

Storyline - Alternate Ending Dreamtale,

Dream met a witch who promised to rewrite reality basically for him in exchange for a bloom of Marigold. (This witch kinda does jobs for peanuts)

Wishing to end the role of being tethers of feelings for the multiverse, the witch stripped him and nightmare away of such origin and change the tether to the multiverse itself so no harm could ever be brought upon it ever again. In doing so, the creation of Dream and Nightmare was obsolete. Turning them to stone which crumbled at a touch.

The witch was infallible though, what was meant as a job, a simple wish of saving everybody that she had to fulfil out of self-obligation became a wish she had to fulfil for a friend. Whom unbeknownst to her she had developed feelings she couldn’t understand at the moment and equated it to simple friendship. (Dense asf)

Yadda, yadda, yadda. Dream crumbled to pieces of stone, she grieved thought it was her fault didn’t know he’d turn to stone when Dream actually kept that particular little detail from her, even then he wasn’t entirely sure about it himself. Nim returns but with no duty or purpose, she’s just there, grateful to the witch for inadvertently freeing her but at the same time bitter when she sees the witch reduced to picking stones out of sheer guilt and did not acknowledge her return at all before disappearing with Dream’s remnants.

20 years passed, the witch managed to painstakingly reassembled Dream minus the crown and a portion of his cheek. The guilt had ebbed slightly but was still there and was more of a longing to see him again. Reanimating the stone statue, she was prepared for him to be a 50-50 chance of having brought Nightmare along with him.

Ready to fight, but more than ready to hug and hit him over the skull for not telling her important information. What she got was neither, instead, the stone skull she cradled in her hands turned to a living skeleton who blushed before monotonously telling how someone was calling for him and dissipating into fragments of light. Cue triggering a traumatic event of having Dream crumble after a touch and saying thank you.

The skeleton who woke up though was confused to have a change of scenery. But nonetheless accepted the one in front of him as his original creator, Nim, who had summoned him here before her tree. Bestowing him the name Motus. His duty was to serve her and forever will that be the truth. Not to find the witch again, who reminded him of Marigold flowers.

Asking for the witch, leaves him with a dispassionate Nim that told him. No, witches can't be loved. Don't even bother acknowledging her. And, oh, that was quick he didn't realized he had fallen in love. His creator truly knows best.

The witch came, he fought bravely like Nim told him to even as he tried so hard to not hurt her as badly. He knew both of them were pulling back their attacks and there was more shouting between the three. Of disbelief, of desire to rescue him from Nim's control when he didn't require it. His heart broke when it was Dream she called him by with that feeling of love.

He wasn't Dream, he was Motus.

It hurt to hear her call him by a name that wasn't him, especially with those unrealized feelings that he could feel lingering around her.

She realized that too, having Nim called her out on her behaviour for treating him like an object. Guilt wracked her, she left once more. Unaware, she was played by the former entity that hosted for emotions of the multiverse.

Sending a piece offering letter, the witch wanted to apologize for her behaviour. It became a small tea party of three that was at first odd and stilted but after getting over the fact that Motus wasn't actually Dream and only had his and Nightmare's memories together. What he does with them and his new found life was his choice. Did the witch lowered her guard and tried to actually get to know the people in front of her.

And what she found was two interesting people whom she wanted to be friends with.

Until Nim dropped the bomb and said she wanted revenge against the mortals for daring to trap her for more than 500 yrs. Offering the witch a place in her ranks to kill other Monsters and Humans. To which, the witch vehemently refused much to Motus's panic, confusion and regret.

They had been getting along so well.

Nim, called her weak. Clinging to her life as a former mortal instead of embracing her life as an immortal. While the witch called her foolish for seeking revenge against people who had nothing to do with her imprisonment. An impossible, endlessly cruel quest that went against Dream's ideals as a whole.

Motus didn't know who to side with and stood there awaiting orders, but hearing Dream's name again stirred up something sorrowful inside him.

He didn't have to do anything much to his relief but disbelief when he sees his Creator's tree swallowed the witch and releasing his Master, allowing her to walk now on the grass, barefoot. That was only a mere few seconds before the tree blew up and Nim screeched at the charred remains of her former vessel while she fall to her knees.

Enter cliche line, of how the witch will put a stop to Nim's plans. Nim then tells Motus to not falter and never fall, that the witch is their enemy. He had to aim his sword at the iron maiden witch, that now looked hella fierce at him. They did not hold back. Clashing loyalties made them put aside their attachment and finally he knew where she stood.

Her priority had always been to the people.

A determination that made him falter.

He woke up to the witch healing him, honest to god reinforcing him with strength idly telling him how he wasn't able to heal as before with emotions and needed all the help he could get. In the midst of tryin to convince him that this path only led to ruin. So seriously stop.

Nim behind him shouting to get up.

He had a choice to fight or to agree with the witch and stop.

Motus fought.

Hearing "How Dream wouldn't have wanted this." made the blood in his bones boil with anger. But seeing the witch's expression turned to remorse caused his own to form into guilt. He couldn't do anything as she left.

They were enemies.

Even after she tossed him a bag of vitamins to chew on to reinforce himself. Her actions confused him. Does she wants him dead or not?

It took a long while before they both understood each other and finally decided to end the fight because it wasn't worth it. Nim was reduced to a growing sapling for a tree that screams at Motus for disobeying her but he really sees no reason to follow her at all other than the fact she could summon him to her at will whenever she wished. The idea of murdering innocents, like unsuspecting people who doesn't fight back, doesn't sit right with him either.

The witch brought the sapling Nim along with her, not wanting to make the same mistake of leaving her behind like last time. Alone with her thoughts of revenge while the witch had grieved over stones. Even with the bite of her words, Nim was partial to the idea of going with the witch not that she had much of a choice being shoved into a pot and taken to the witch's shop while Motus trailed behind the accursed witch like a love sick puppy.

Too bad, the witch is dense. To Nim, this was prime amusement for the next couple of years.

The end.

Well there might be continuation

[dangerouscommiesubversive]

someone behind me was tracing my steps / maybe you’re better off this way

Fandom: Kamen Rider Ryuki

Characters: Asakura Takeshi, Kido Shinji

Songs: "After the Fall," October Project & "Passive," A Perfect Circle (playlist here)

Takeshi’s sitting against the wall, bleeding out, and the mirror guy—Kanzaki, right—is standing over him, mouth twisted in something he vaguely recognizes as dismay. “I can’t use this, there’s barely any energy left,” he says, not to Takeshi, and there sure as hell isn’t anyone else in the room. “I’ll have to reset.”

“Hang on a second.” Takeshi coughs and feels his mouth fill up with the taste of copper, which isn’t such a bad flavor when you get down to it. “What about my wish?”

Kanzaki doesn’t even look at him, already fucking around with the mirror. “You don’t want anything, there’s no point.”

“Sure I want something.”

“…what on Earth could you want at this point? It’s all going to be reset anyway.”

Takeshi grins up at him, knowing that it’s sure to be an unnerving sight with his teeth all over blood. “Lemme remember.”

“Out of the question. Giving one participant unnecessary foreknowledge would interfere with the procedure.”

“Nah, nah, I’m not gonna interfere with shit. It was just a hell of a time.” Takeshi looks up just as Kanzaki is looking down and grins his bloody grin a little wider. “I like to remember times when I had fun. Looking forward to doing it over again. Let me remember.”

---

It’s not until he graduates university that Shinji realizes that he’s missing something.

Slightly after, really. He graduates, he works some shitty part-time gigs, he does some freelancing, and then Ookubo gets in touch and offers him a job at Ore Journal. That’s all fine, but when he steps through the door of the Ore offices he’s hit with a wave of déjà vu so powerful that he nearly trips and falls face-first into Reiko’s desk. Fortunately he catches himself before anyone notices. It had been bad enough trying to explain to his mother about the girl who lived in his mirror when he was thirteen; he can’t imagine how the people here would react to, “I remember walking into this room for the first time at least eight times over.”

He gets a grip on himself, but the feeling of loss stays. He’s missing something, and he doesn’t know what. Sometimes he’ll get a glimpse of it, he’ll pass someone on the street or overhear a snatch of conversation and a fragment of memory will overwhelm him, but he never gets everything.

From the bits that he sees, he’s not sure that he wants to get everything. It might be better to be missing something than to remember.

---

Takeshi’s known that he’s missing something for a long time now, and whatever it is, he wants it back.

He’s not exactly an educated guy, but he knows himself pretty well, and the idea that there’s a big chunk of him missing is galling. He can feel its absence. He can’t tell what it is, it hasn’t got any kind of useful shape, no edges that he can detect, but it’s his. And since he wouldn’t just go carving out part of himself, that means he’s been robbed.

He doesn’t take kindly to being robbed.

Mostly, though, he can ignore it, the way you ignore a hole in the wall that you don’t feel like repairing yet. He does what he likes, gets what he wants, eats when there’s food, and doesn’t think about it unless he reaches for something in his mind and finds that it isn’t there.

And then he sees the journalist.

Some sweet-faced kid, he is, showing up at a bar that Takeshi likes and bugging the regulars about a local ghost story that Takeshi knows for a fact is bullshit. He doesn’t try coming over to Takeshi’s corner, because the bartender visibly warns him off, but he’s talking to everyone else. That suits Takeshi fine. He can just sit with his drink and watch and remember, in shards and splinters, tantalizing and incomplete.

Kido Shinji is what’s printed on the business card he swipes from the bartender once the journalist leaves, with the address of a tea shop written on the back in pen.

Now there’s a name that rings a bell.

He stares down at the card for a moment, not sure whether he’s pleased or furious, and then heads out. Guy couldn’t have gone far.

---

Shinji gets through the door and is immediately handed an apron and a bandana for his hair. “Dishes.”

“What—Ren, I just got here.”

“Yeah, and there are dirty dishes. I don’t have time to deal with them, there are customers.” Ren squints at him for a moment, frowning. “What’s wrong with you, anyway?”

Shinji pauses in the middle of tying back his hair, uneasy. “I’ll tell you once there aren’t customers. Where’s Miyu—he’s still working, ok.”

Ren rolls his eyes. “Apparently that middle schooler who was here last week told all of her friends about him, he’s been busy all day.”

There are a lot of dishes piled up, and it keeps Shinji busy until Ren’s shooing out the last customers of the day. Atori’s different without the old lady, but it’s not a bad different; hopefully she’s happy in whatever warm place she moved to after she sold the shop to Ren. She’d certainly never seemed happy here.

He’s happy here. In a stable place, with a little bit of stable work apart from Ore, with people who inexplicably love him for reasons that none of them quite remember clearly.

When the last customer is out the door, Ren leans back against the counter, arms folded across his chest, and says, “So something’s bothering you, spit it out.”

Shinji frowns down into the dishwater. “I think someone was following me again today.”

“What, again? How long’s this been going on now, two weeks?”

“Three and a half. Ever since that thing I was looking into about the ghost, do you remember that one?” One saucer in the dish rack, start washing the next piece. “Maybe I pissed off the ghost.”

“You said there wasn’t a ghost.”

“Well, yeah, but what if there was and now it’s following me?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, you’re not being chased by a ghost.”

Shinji glances nervously over his shoulder, as if he’ll see his ghost reflected in the tea shop window. “How can we be sure, though?” He picks up another dirty cup and starts to wash it. “Some of the things I remember…”

Ren’s arms wrap around him from behind, chin resting on his shoulder. “They aren’t here,” more softly and gently than he usually speaks. “No ghosts. Just you, me, and Miyuki.”

“No ghosts.” Shinji takes a deep breath. “You’re right. No ghosts.”

---

The place isn’t tough to break into. Decent locks, but nothing Takeshi can’t get past with a crowbar. He lets himself in and looks around the vaguely-familiar tea shop with interest before heading past the counter and to the back. Stairs lead up to the apartment above, and sure, they creak a little, but that’s nothing to worry about. After all, he’s still got the crowbar if he really needs it.

Upstairs, the place is chaotic in sort of a cute way, decorated as it is by three people with clearly pretty different sensibilities, fragments of three very different lives on display. It smells faintly of frying oil, too. Someone made something good for dinner tonight. On a whim, he checks the fridge, finds a container of leftover gyoza, and eats them absently as he contemplates the shopping list stuck to the freezer door. Eggs, rice, sliced pork belly, in neat handwriting that definitely isn’t Kido’s.

He finishes the gyoza and the tail-end of a carton of milk, leaving the empty containers behind on the counter and picking up his crowbar again as he heads toward the back of the apartment.

There are three bedrooms, and none of them are marked, doors closed against the darkened hallway. Checking each one would be a hassle, and might lead to more trouble than Takeshi feels like getting in right now. Instead he just remembers how jumpy Kido seemed even before Takeshi started following him and lets intuition lead him to the room closest to the fire escape.

The door swings open, and the first thing he sees is a cloth square on the wall. A covered mirror.

There we go.

Kido’s asleep, sprawled across the bed with his head tossed back and his hair spread out on his pillow, throat pale and exposed. Alone, which makes things a little easier. There’s a computer desk set up in the corner of the room; Takeshi grabs the chair from it, drags it over next to the bed, and sits, resting the end of the crowbar on the floor as he’s saying, softly and cheerfully, “Hey, Kido. Wake up.”

A shift, an irritated mumble, “Not time to—” and then one eye opening halfway and the jolt, Kido scrambling upright in the bed, one hand flung out to the side reaching for something that isn’t there.

What isn’t there?

Splinters reform into another regained memory: a deck of cards in an elaborate case, gleaming purple metal smooth and cool in Takeshi’s hands. There’s a name that goes with it, or maybe more than one, faint and still lost but centimeters from the tip of his tongue.

Kido’s gone white as a pan of milk, hand still empty because they’re in a world with no decks, now, no monsters that Takeshi suddenly remembers with fondness, not nearly as much fun, and Takeshi leans forward on his crowbar and smiles, friendly, like, and says, “Come on, Kido, I remember you being more interesting.”

---

Shinji can hear his heart beating over the ringing in his ears. There’s a bit of light coming in from between the mostly-closed curtains, just enough to see by, and with his hand coming up empty and his unwelcome guest illuminated so that only golden hair and white teeth are visible, he is assailed by memory.

He knows this man.

From the corner of the bar where he’d been looking into that ghost story, sure, the one the bartender had told him not to bother, but also from before, from ten befores or more. A killer, vicious and cheerfully so, dangerous to be around, but beneath the adrenaline thrum Shinji can feel another pulse, pity, pity, pity, perhaps misplaced but still there.

He fights to get his breathing under control and says, “Asakura. What are you doing here?”

“You took something of mine.” Asakura’s head tilts slowly to the side, semi-friendly grin still visibly. “I came to get it back.”

“I don’t have anything of yours.”

“Never said you did. I said you took it. Didn’t say I thought you had it.”

“That…you know that doesn’t make sense, right?”

“None of this makes sense, Kido. We live in a world that revolves around a guy like you.” Asakura leans forward, one hand darting out to grab Shinji’s chin, ragged nails digging into his skin. In the dim light his eyes are flat and dark and predatory as their gazes lock, only taking on any gleam as he drinks in…something, whatever he’s getting from looking at Shinji like this. Shinji nearly asks, in fact, but he can’t quite speak, and anyway Asakura’s talking again, still as cheery and conversational as he has been. “Used to be, I got the deck in my hands and I’d remember all of it. That was the deal. Don’t know how the mirror guy finally bit it, but whatever happened, you’re the key to everything now.”

Shinji’s considering shouting for Ren, because even if he did have a dragon at his beck and call, the mirror is covered. Then, of course, he notices the crowbar. And Asakura continues to look at him, searching for something that Shinji is apparently giving him.

“Pathetic.” Abruptly, Asakura lets go again. “You used to be fun, Kido.” He stands, shouldering the crowbar like a baseball bat, and heads for the open bedroom door, only pausing briefly to say, “Call me if you ever decide to get the band back together, yeah?”

Shinji remains frozen for what seems like a long time after he’s gone, dizzy with memory and his heartbeat noisy in his own ears.

He doesn’t remember the end of things. None of the ends of things, actually, and he’s not sure if the others know that it happened more than once, how many times they were put through the same wringer. Whatever it was, though, whatever he or they finally did, it was permanent.

He never would have expected someone to resent him for it.

Finally he finds the focus to move, raising a hand to rub at the sore spots on his jaw before getting out of bed.

Miyuki’s bed is disturbed by unoccupied, and this fills him with a banked and indistinct dread until he comes to Ren’s room and finds them both there, Miyuki sprawled as inelegantly as always and snoring lightly at Ren’s side. Ren is awake, barely. “Bad dreams all around tonight, I guess,” he slurs as Shinji closes the door, and moves over to make space. “Wha’ was yours about?”

Shinji curls up beside him and says, softly, “Just ghosts.”

---

Takeshi strolls down the middle of the empty street, crowbar on his shoulder, in such a good mood now that he’s very nearly whistling. It’s a damp night; the streetlights make shadows in the fog that look like old friends he now remembers, any number of enormous beasts stalking him as he walks. Which makes him want to laugh, and so he laughs, and the sound bounces off the buildings and the fog in an echo that could go on forever.

“Goddamn,” he says to a fog-reflection that shifts and changes with every step he takes, now a vast snake, now a rhino, now a stingray. “That was a good time, wasn’t it.”

The fog makes no reply, but the shadow continues to follow him down the street as the echoes of his laughter die away, and after a moment, feeling almost jaunty, he starts to whistle.

[earthfire-75]

I don't know what to say about it,

When all you ears have turned away,

But now's the time to look and look again at what you see,

Is that the way it ought to stay?

Kashmir

Chapter Two, Part One:That’s the Way (Sleepwalking)

(Author’s notes: co-written with @nature-and-music and beta’ed by @lady-jane-revisited )

I woke up the next morning and got out of bed. It was then I realized that I was indeed in a bed, when I had fallen asleep on the couch. Robert must have moved me when he came up to the room. I shook my head and went back out into the main room to get my clothes, quietly and quickly getting dressed. Sure enough, there was Robert in my place on the couch. I took the room key once more and made a dash out to the hall. Unfortunately, I was stopped by Cole.

“Enjoy yourself?” He asked sarcastically. “Honestly, though, I figured you’d be coming out of Jimmy’s room. Since he found you and all. Such disloyalty.”

“Do you actually know what happened last night, or are you just talking out of your ass?”

“I know how things work around here, girl. More than you do. It would have been bad enough if you had been with Jimmy. But Robert? That just looks bad for you. Half the other roadies already think you're getting special treatment just because you’re a girl. Myself included. This? Just reinforces that assumption.”

“I’m sorry, should I have slept out in the hallway? You know what, I don’t have time to stand here and justify to you where I slept last night. I have things to do before I officially start my job this morning. If you’ll excuse me.”

I stepped forward, trying to walk past Cole, but he stuck his arm out to stop me from leaving. Thankfully, before he could say anything further, G came around the corner. Less fortunately, Rogina was right beside him. It seemed they had been talking, but stopped upon seeing the scene in front of them. Rogina came to my side, glaring up at Cole, but it was G who spoke.

“Is there something wrong?”

Cole immediately dropped his arm and straightened his posture. “I was just explaining to the newbie that employees don’t sleep with the band. Even if she is a girl.”

G’s eyes narrowed at Cole. “I wasn’t asking you.”

“And I was explaining that it’s none of his damn business and I got a couple of things to grab from the drug store across the way because I currently have no toiletries or anything to pack my stuff in.”

“You’re right, it isn’t any of his business. That being said, you were supposed to get everything you needed yesterday.”

“I know and that’s on me, but everything was so rushed yesterday. And I know it’s not going to be any less so today.”

G sighs but nods. “Five minutes. That’s all I can give you, my dear.”

“You’re just going to let her go?”

“Yes, and if you’re the reason she’s late coming back because you refuse to get out of her way, not only will you be picking up her slack, you can carry her things as well!” G boomed at him.

Rogina piped up beside me, “I’ll go with her, help her get what she needs so it goes faster.”

Cole just threw his hands up and stepped to the side. “Fine!”

Rogina roughly bumped her shoulder into Cole as she walked past him, glaring daggers at him before we headed to the elevator. We were silent for some time as we made our way to the drug store across the street.

Rogina grabbed a shopping basket, “Sorry that you had to go through with that Anj. Cole’s always been fucking prick that loves to cause trouble.” She tossed in hair brush, “If he or anyone gives you trouble, let me know.”

I smiled as I added in shampoo and conditioner bottles, “Thank you. I’ll be okay, I can handle him.”

Rogina sighed as she placed a tube of toothpaste in, “Well let me know if he does anything, okay?”

“I will. Come on, we better hurry.”

We had managed to grab what we could during those five minutes. Having her here was great, given the time crunch and that she could help me find the necessary items that I would need, plus a backpack to my belongings. She offered to help pay for some of the items, but I let her know that I could take care of it. Once we were done, we hurried back to the hotel and found everyone in the lobby. G and Bonzo were conversing with Cole, their arms were crossed as they stood before the bearded man.

Robert spotted us and walked over, “There you are, is everything alright?”

I nodded, “Yeah, I just needed to get a few things-”

“No I mean, I heard about what happened this morning. G told me. I’m sorry Anjelika,” he continued.

“Really, I’m okay Robert. Besides he can say and think whatever he wants to,” I assured him. “I doubt he’ll be much of a problem anyway.”

Robert’s eyebrows pulled together, “Even so-”

G’s voice bellowed, “Alright everyone, make sure that you have what you need! It’s time to head out!”

And with that, we all grabbed our stuff and made our way out to the buses.

Robert had been kind enough to already have my things with his, so I was able to quickly transfer it all to the backpack. He mentioned something about needing a bag for my dresses so they wouldn’t get all wrinkled, but I didn’t have time to respond, quickly closing up the backpack and getting on the roadies’ bus. At least the trip to the venue wasn’t all that long.

Once there we got out and started unpacking the equipment to take inside and set up while G took the bands to go talk with the venue owner and crew. The whole process took quite a few hours and we took a break for lunch before resuming. We finished about three hours before the show was to start and slowly, everyone else left the stage.

Alone at last, the other roadies, Cole included, left the stage after everything was set up, I went to pick up the acoustic and sat at one of the stools and began to play. I didn’t know it, but I was being watched by Robert and Jimmy at one side of the stage, Rogina on the other.

“Life detaches

Much less loved

A taste familiar

But watered down

And each day passes

Into the next

Like television

Flickering unseen”

“She sounds so sad,” Robert whispered to Jimmy.

“She sounds…lost,” Jimmy responded thoughtfully. “There’s something else, too. I get shivers whenever I hear her sing.”

“I breathe

But I don't often think about it

Anymore

It's become a habit

Those embers fragment

That fire was

Just a fracture

In the ice“

Bonzo came up behind Robert and Jimmy. “Hey, guys!” Robert and Jimmy shushed Bonzo at the same time.

“Okay…” he responded in a whisper. “But why are we watching Anjelika like a bunch of creeps and whispering about it?”

“Do you hear me?

Can you hear me?

Do you hear a voice from my side?

Sleepwalking“

“Because,” Robert whispered sadly, “I don’t think she would keep doing this if she knew she was being watched.”

“She’s turned down every opportunity to play in front of an audience, even as a backup. But, for me, it isn’t just that. I get the feeling she isn’t telling us everything.”

“And poetry

Fills an empty room

With science broken

And confused

And my desire...

Becomes a pacifier

I need to feel

Alive & awake”

“Everyone is allowed some secrets, Jimmy. You, of all people, should understand that,” Bonzo said pointedly.

Jimmy finally looked at Bonzo with a raised eyebrow. “You know something we don’t, don’t you?”

“Do you hear me?

Can you hear me?

Do you hear a voice from my side?

Sleepwalking”

“S’pose I do?”

“Care to share with the class?

“Not my story to tell, Jimbo,” Bonzo shrugged .

“Something aging

In the water

In the damage

To my soul

The wishing fire

Is still alive

And I think his heartbeat

Will not die

How can I give

Anymore of my life

Away…”

“Fine, keep her secrets too.” Jimmy walked away.

Robert and Bonzo sigh and shake their heads at their friend. Both of them know that Jimmy won’t let it go so easily. He never did.

“Do you hear me?

Can you hear me?

Do you hear a voice from my side?

Sleepwalking.”

“I just want her to be ok. No, more than that, really. I just…don’t know what to do.”

From her side of the stage, Rogina finally stepped out of the shadows toward me, a broad smile on her face. “That was beautiful, Anj. Robert’s right, you really should show off your talent.”

I smiled and ducked my head, given that my face was red. She had been nothing but good to me and for some reason, I had a harder time resisting her charms. Not that it was easy resisting Robert’s. Instead of answering her, I started to play again, something that might be more familiar to her. Tom Petty’s Breakdown, even taking on the singer's more southern dialect.

“It's alright if you love me

It's alright if you don't

I'm not afraid of you runnin' away, honey

I get the feeling you won't”

“There is no sense in pretending

Your eyes give you away

Something inside you is feeling like I do

We said all there is to say”

“Baby, breakdown, go ahead and give it to me

Breakdown, honey, take me through the night (baby, baby, breakdown)

Breakdown, now I'm standin' here, can't you see?

Breakdown, it's all right”

“It's all right

It's all right”

The next thing I knew, Rogina sang along with me as well. Her singing started out softly at first until she reached the chorus and her voice came out strong and powerful like a mountain. While I was familiar with Daltrey’s voice, to hear it before me was something else. As we continued, we found ourselves singing in such a lovely harmonious manner that the world around us seemed to have stopped.

The song came to a close, she placed a hand on my shoulder, “You have a great talent Anjelika.”

“Well compared to you, I seem like more of an amateur,” I joked.

“No Anj, your voice is lovely and so is your playing. That song you were singing before, I’ve never heard of it.”

I looked down for a moment, “Oh it’s just a little something that I’ve been working on.” I stood up from the stool and placed the guitar down, “I better get back to work.”

“Anj-”

I had already made my way off the other wing, only to see Robert, Bonzo, and Jimmy there. My face was flushing as I walked past them. I felt like such an idiot! What on earth was I thinking? The show was to start fairly soon and I had a job to complete. The ticks on the clock continued as everything from lighting, technical matters, clothing, and the instruments were put into place. The doors to the stadium opened and the fans made their way inside. The more dedicated fans were attempting to do what they could in order to get as close to the band members as possible. Security was already on the matter and they kept their composure as they desperately hoped to catch a glimpse of their idols.

I walked through the hallway with a black coffee in hand, hearing the echoes of varying conversations going on between roadies. I would offer a smile as I passed by, some would offer one back, others would give me a look of disdain. Cole was within my sights and so I kept my eyes facing forward. I kept my distance from him as I moved out of the way.

Cole blew a cloud of smoke in my direction, “On your way to give ol’ Plant a little ‘warm up session?”

I kept my back to him, “Why don’t you go do that yourself? Since you seem so keen on the idea.”

G walked over, “You two ladies fighting again?”

Cole answered back, “Actually I was just about to check on the boys.”

G raised a brow as he watched him walk away, “How are you doing Anjelika?”

“Well things seem to be going well for my first day.”

“Good. Now since this is your first night, I don’t expect you to know everything that happens. You might feel a little confused about how we do things at first, but you’ll learn pretty quickly.”

I nodded, “So how long do you think tonight’s show will be?”

G took out a cigar and lit it, “I reckon about three and half, four hours tops. I’ll have you out on the wings to help with instruments for right now. I want to see how you do tonight, then I’ll add more duties to your list.”

“Thank you Mr. Grant.”

I felt a gloved hand on my shoulder. Following the black leathered glove, I was greeted with the sight of Alice Cooper wearing a leather ensemble. His eyes and sides of his mouth were marked in his signature look.

“How do I look?” He asked

“Like a freak,” I answered with a smile.

“Why thank you,” he responded kindly with a genuine smile. “See you after the show.”

He and his fellow bandmates excitedly made their way down the hall, ready with their instruments in hand. They greeted the cheering crowd with the first notes and so the first act of the show began.

I gave all the support I could from the sidelines and adjusted guitars, restringing them when needed. His act lasted for a little under an hour and I gave him a hug in congratulations when he came off the stage. The Who were next and as Rogina passed me, I gave her a hug as well and a kiss on the cheek, despite my better judgment. “For luck.” I explained with darkened cheeks when she gave me a questioning look.

“Thank you,” she responded with a smile, then headed out onto the stage to join her bandmates. Halfway through their act, Rogina made some anecdote about life on the road and as a woman in rock music. She mentioned me, though not by name and dedicated the next song to a “special someone”, all the while looking at me and began to play ‘Love Ain't for Keeping’.

When their act was done and Rogina came off the stage, she came up to me and gave me a proper, if chaste, kiss before going back to the changing rooms. Then it was time for Zeppelin, the last act for the night. I hated how heartbroken Robert looked as he walked past me on his way to the stage. I had been so worried about getting my own heart broken…

“Wow, Anj…Rogina too? And poor Robert had no idea, did he?”

“Shut the fuck up, Cole,” I seethed.

“Or wha-“

I was beyond done with the man, if he could be called one, I whirled around and decked him, knocking him to the floor. Standing over him now, I took a fistful of his shirt and hauled him into a sitting position and got in his face. “You really need a lesson in minding your own fucking business. Do yourself a favor and keep Rogina’s name out of your mouth and the next time you decide to butt into my life outside of actual work, I’ll shove my foot so far up your ass, you’ll be eating my steel toe boots!” I hadn’t realized it, but my eyes were glowing as I spoke.

I stood back up to find G standing there, but he didn’t say anything to me, just gave me a nod and I went back to doing my job. G had security take Cole to another room to get looked at and bandaged up as his nose was bleeding a little.

I marched into the hallways, grabbed myself a beer, and found an isolated area to sit and cool down. The day hasn’t ended yet and Cole continues to be a nuisance. I had hoped that after today he would have gotten the message. I heard the sound of footsteps approaching and quite frankly I wasn’t in the mood to talk. At this point I didn’t care who came over, I was angry and I needed some time to be alone. Yet my ears perked up when I heard a familiar voice.

“Anjelika,” Rogina softly called. “Are you alright?”

She took a seat next to me, but I scooted away, keeping my eyes on my beer, “I’m fine.”

“I saw what happened from the changing room.”

I uttered under my breath, “So? It’s resolved, let it go.”

[jiaraforeverr]

Friends to Lovers in Canon Universe

I'll be the light and lead you home (when there's nowhere left to go) by @homebody-nobody and @hmspogue

“Hi, Dad,” he says, his heart pounding, his veins already humming with fight-or-flight adrenaline. He can feel his brain kicking into overdrive as his body is tensing to prepare for whatever comes next. Keep your voice down, his mind reiterates, reciting rules that governed years of his childhood, learned the hard way and necessary for his safety -- for survival. Stay an arms length away, nod and agree, don’t tell him no, respond with “yes sir”, keep your voice down for as long as possible, and get out before the yelling starts at all costs… But, now, in the midst of this frantic inventory, a new rule makes its way into his consciousness. Stay between him and Kiara.

baby, it’s halloween (we can be anything)

JJ tags along with Kie as she goes costume shopping but she leaves the store with much more than she bargained for.

The Haunting of Crowley Manor

After spending the night with JJ, going to Sarah's Halloween party at an abandoned, and allegedly haunted, Kook mansion is not high on Kiara's list of things she wants to be doing. When the Pogues do some exploring, what they find is unsettling at best. Even amidst all the pandemonium, Kiara would really just like to clear the air.

you wanna play with fire (stick and poke tattoo) by @homebody-nobody

'JJ chews on the information she’s given him, tracing his fingers down her arm, over the curve of her elbow and back up to her shoulder. “You’re still gonna go home, right?” He asks, uncertainty and maybe longing in his voice. She realizes, then, that of course she is. Her parents love her, even if they don’t know how to show it, don't understand what the Cut and its inhabitants (and one in particular) mean to her. Of course, she’s going to go home. Because JJ doesn’t get to. Because she still can.

touch me someone by @homebody-nobody

He pulls away from her, and his eyes are wide but dry as his chest heaves. He looks wild, uncaged and raw, the moonlight turning his blond hair white and his blue eyes into pools of silver. Tragedy and shock have destroyed him, the chains he’d wrapped around his brash, heedless, unending want twisted into shards by an explosion of hurt and grief. He has always been the victim, the boy left behind in empty rooms with nothing but loss and bloody fragments, told to piece himself back together. Finally, they’ve taken the last thing. When he told John B they had nothing to lose, they still had each other. And now, he doesn’t even have that. But she’s still here.

A Midsummers Night's Scheme

Kiara really doesn't want to go to Midsummers, and this time it isn't just about the socioeconomics of it all. When she runs into someone she was hoping never to see again, she enlists the help of JJ, who might already be more involved than she would've ever thought.

georgia (georgia, i love your son) by @jiaaras

Two years after Sarah and John B died (or disappeared, if you asked JJ), Kiara and JJ must deal with the return of a familiar face to the Outer Banks.

it was there the whole time

The rest of the pogues notice that JJ and Kiara are hopelessly in love with each other long before they do themselves.

because i'm still in love with you (i wanna see you dance again.)

post season one; John B and Sarah are gone, Pope is M.I.A and Kiara just wants to help JJ stop drinking so much.

lets go surfing by @simpforjiara

everything good happens in the surf

and even when you look away i know you think of me by @hvitstark

The night of graduation Kie worries about the future.

Her Boys *trigger warning character drugged against their will*

Some guy tries to drug Kiara during a kegger at the Boneyard, and her boys ride to the rescue, and then take her home and take beautiful care of her…which leads to a very unique first Jiara kiss.

five times JJ or Kie kissed the other as friends + 1 time they were definitely not friends by @simpforjiara

don't blame me for fallin' (i was just a little boy) by @simpforjiara

JJ Maybank could never just simply care about something, when it came to Kiara it was always too much

Home is Where the Puppy Lives by @tiggerusername

Four months after John B and Sarah disappear, everything in Outer Banks is strange. JJ and Kiara are hardly talking. Pope is hardly around. And storms keep coming. That is until Kiara decides to visit the chateau after work one day and finds a puppy stuck in the destruction of the night outside.

Snapshots Through Time

Just as the title implies, jumps in time depicting moments in JJ and Kiara’s lives. First as friends, then as a couple, and eventually as a family.

Don't overthink it

For the majority of the time she was not even sure she liked JJ as a person.

i don’t wanna be your friend (i wanna kiss your lips)

If she’s being honest, Kiara used to think about kissing JJ all the time. aka the five times kiara thinks about kissing jj, and the one time she finally does it.

I love you, ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?

JJ and Kiara grow closer in the aftermath of what should have been the best summer of their lives.

One of Us Must Know (Sooner or Later)

After spending a night with Pope, Kie runs to the person she was meant to be with in the first place.

it wasn’t special til i met you by @dayas

kiara never expects teaching jj to braid to matter so much. it does. or, alternatively, the four times kiara lets jj braid her hair and the one time she doesn’t.

every piece of you

Five places that Kie hadn’t expected to be intimate when kissed and one place she does.

if we were meant to be, we would've been by now by @alphinias

five times JJ was jealous, and one time he didn't have to be

and if my wishes came true (it would’ve been you)

the one where jj and kiara go on a road trip together and do a miserable job of pretending they’re not two idiots in love

tell me when you’re falling (can you hear me calling?)

being in love with your best friend makes vacationing pretty inconvenient. luckily for kiara, said best friend will never suspect a thing.

bare necessities by @rae-of-fricking-sunshine

the five times they were unintentionally undressed, and the one time they weren't

better date than never by @alphinias

Kiara is sick of her mom badgering her about the single groomsmen at her cousin's wedding, so obviously, taking JJ as her date is the perfect solution. It won't be complicated. Not at all.

i had a few (got drunk on you)

Kiara is a student at bartender school and JJ is helping her practice (when he isn’t hindering her by drinking all the liquor).

i'll be there 'til the stars don't shine by @maybankiara

in which the pogues throw a kegger, and jj keeps getting distracted by the feelings he might have for one of his closest friends.

What if... (Secrets are dug in the best friends' back yard?) by @tiggerusername

What if JJ and Kiara have been keeping a massive secret from the Pogues? What if JJ and Kiara were a lot closer than anyone had expected during Kiara's Kook year?

Standing On Younger Ground by @usnavisbubbly

If he really thinks about it, he knows it probably just took missing her for an entire year for him to realize that he never wanted to again. Miss her, that is. That shit was brutal. She’s his best friend and he wants her around all the time. It’s just that now, he sometimes wishes it was just them. Like, he’d never want John B and Pope to go away, per se, he just also wants Kie to himself? Or something? It’s confusing.

Bad Timing

the one where the Pogues all had a thing for Kie, all get rejected and JJ eventually finds the right time.

wish you were sober

The Pogues are growing up and following their dreams, which means it's time for JJ and Kiara to sort through some feelings.

around the world

You can take the boy out of the Outer Banks, but you can't take the Outer Banks out of the boy. when it's all calmed down, kiara travels the world. jj's not precisely an unwelcome addition.

drunk off of nothing but of each other until the sunrise (i swear to god it was the best night of my life)

The night before Kie leaves for collage JJ finally makes a move. It's the start and end of something all at once.

friends don’t look at friends that way

anyone observant can see that JJ and Kiara are clearly more than friends.

You Can Get Lost in the Music For Hours, Honey by @anniebibananie

A love story told (predominately) through text messages and a collaborative spotify playlist.

Come Down to the Black Sea Swimming with Me

JJ and Kiara try to deal with the aftermath of John B and Sarah's deaths, and find it easier together.

if this is love, i know it’s true (i won’t forget you)

kiara carrera doesn’t know when she falls in love with jj maybank. she just knows that she does, and there’s nothing she can do about it.

i want to see you stare at ceilings until you fall back asleep

jj and kie have a moment.

(au mid-season before any of that insane police chase stuff went down)

[kachinnate]

,,,,okay i know i just said i wasn’t going to talk about the deh movie but actually yeah imma talk about it for just a sec bc y’all actually make me legitimately distressed sajkfndsmjkgds

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hLQ_A0H1otc i dont have the braincells to do a shot by shot analysis right now but here’s what we’re lookin at

under a readmore because ghhhhhhh

firstly, let me lead with this: yes, from what we know, there’s a lot of things wrong with this movie. 

the worst, in my humble opinion, being the bts treatment of the (very few) actors of color, and the lack altogether of any production team members of color. that’s something that should be acknowledged, talked about, and fucking dug into especially at the current fucking period of time we’re living in. it’s unsurprising, but disgusting nonetheless, and it set this movie up for failure from the very beginning. i’m a white person so by no means so i feel inclined or like i have any authority in saying what one should feel wrt all of that, however i will say if there’s to be a boycott in not watching this movie, that should 100% be the reason why. it’s fully poc’s choice whether or not to forgive the production team or give this movie a chance for the irredeemable shit it did in regards to handling the movie’s production. the movie imo definitely doesn’t deserve their forgiveness, but again, that is not for me to say. 

there’s some little things too that i can’t fully think of off the top of my head - like, the whole making larry connor’s stepdad thing fucking irks me, for example, but, like...... listen.

if you know me like at all, you know my favorite word is nuance.

so, i’m going to say it outright: the way you people are approaching this three minute trailer shows literally.... none?? no nuance ??? is it no-nuance november over here or ???? like i’m begging you i’m BEGGING YOU to put aside your pre-determined prejudices against this movie and like stop pretending to be a renowned film critic for ten seconds because it’s really not as outright fucking abysmal as you are saying!! and also it’s possible to have opinions that aren’t completely fucking polarized to one side because guess what, the deh movie? a piece of media! what is the shit y’all are constantly preaching about having the ability to consume media critically ? because you’re trying to cancel a fucking trailer based on the contents of the trailer alone !!!!! hello !!!!!!!!

media is bound to be problematic. if y’all were as quick to judge any movie as you did this one, guess what you wouldn’t be watching any movies like ever <3 

anyway lets get into the parts that are probably going to get me cancelled lmao 

ben platt - listen. LISTEN. listen i know he’s too old to be reprising evan we ALL know he’s too old to be reprising evan i’ve heard this same argument since the announcement was made we get it we all know. haha he’s a grandpa yes bestie ur so right ur so funny wow. i do agree that we should’ve maybe had a not-ben-platt evan moment but here’s some things to keep in mind: the arguments of “oooh ABF is right there !!!!!!” 1. who’s to say he was available? 2. the environment of a movie is so, SO much different than that of a musical -- as much as you wanna pretend you know everything from just a trailer, there’s no way of knowing what scenes were added that might’ve made the movie like.. idk possibly more intense story-wise not even COUNTING the fact that just inherently a movie set is different than a musical one? like yes ben platt might be just being used as a device but that’s probably not the sole and only reason. Also, if i see One (1) more comment about his FUCKING HAIR 😃 first of all it’s not that deep like... if you’re so distracted by an actor having their hair different that’s on you, but going as far as to call it bad or distracting or being like Vehemently a way about it? y’all i know it’s most likely not your intention but that is literally just ben platt’s natural fuckin ETHNICALLY JEWISH hair sajknfgkjds!!!! i’m not the first to make this point, but like dsjnfkjdsg!??! y’all are being so mean about it and for WHAT? again, maybe not intentional, but it reads as like high key Very antisemetic and you should.... maybe not 😳 be that way

connor. the thing about a trailer is that they don’t show you all the scenes because they want you to come see the movie. right? can we agree on that? all the connor scenes in the trailer had SEVERAL hard cuts, omitting a lot of the scene -- like the computer lab scene! we see the beginning of it, there’s a VERY obvious hard cut, and then he’s running out! in my opinion my first watch through of this trailer i had a very like “:// hmm all these actors feel a lil like dry”, but man oh man the comments ive seen about connor. holy shit guys. this boy gets 7 minutes of stage time in the actual musical, and the whole thing is we DON’T KNOW VERY MUCH ABOUT HIM. not to burst your bubble, and i by no means hate connor, i love me some good connor lives fics and stuff, but everything we write with connor being alive? that is !! speculation on our part !!!! those are headcanons and us using the little context we have!! connor doesn’t have any significant development IN THE SOURCE MATERIAL that is being adapted into a movie !!! you 1. can’t fully judge a character with already limited screentime in a 3 minute trailer, 2. can’t really call what connor has canonically in the musical as in depth character development !! what is his arc then !!!! he pushes evan, goes to the computer lab, has an outcast loner kid moment, gets upset, takes the letter, DIES. sorry stans, that’s just how it is !! and, AND, everything in between, all the idiosyncracies, that depends on the actor playing connor! speaking of, you know who the actor is playing connor in the movie? that’s right, colton ryan! so, i don’t know, maybe... have some trust in the process, in an actor who ALREADY has played connor on broadway???? and also trust that you will get more connor content then u are seeing from a 3 minute trailer!! dhgnijsdg and some of the comments on like his appearance specifically? like are you really made that he doesn’t have long hair?? they kept his nails and his rings but nahhh the hair was apparently a MUST HAVE (even though like.. not all connor actors on broadway always had/have long hair but w/e).. REGARDLESS. tldr on THAT , the movie would have to do a pretty shitty job if they want to take something from someone who doesn’t have much to begin with and i think y’all are being extremely harsh on this point 

jared. honestly i’m a bit worried too about the like... name change, because it does have the potential to be taking out some representation, but... they did change the name to fit the actor’s ethnicity? it’s a really [hmm] topic because, again, from a trailer and from what we have been told we don’t KNOW a lot of the context, but i think it’s important to remember that uh.. jewish people aren’t just? always white ?? there’s a possibility they changed the last name to fit with the [ethnicity] while keeping him jewish?? ofc there’s the possibility that they Didn’t and ... again hm that’s its own thing altogether but just reiterates the point that you can’t knock a whole movie just based on the trailer. you can’t talk about things you know nothing about. 

alana. same thing as before, you can’t.... completely bash a character based on a 3 minute trailer. there was discussion about how she seemed ‘shy’ when talking to evan, which like.. maybe she is but also that scene was them talking in a library like if u actually take notice of what’s happening in the scene jdskngsd though i do share the general consensus with many others that she won’t get a lot of screen-time but that’s neither here nor there 😔 moving on

scenes and the setting. one of the things i was most like.. tentative about in regards to a switch from a musical to a movie was how they were like... going to do certain scenes? naturally, a lot has to be different when we’re going from a minimal stage set to an entire movie with like.. settings. there are going to be new scenes because a movie lends to have like, physical places that aren’t just [evan’s bedroom] and [murphy kitchen] and [implied school]. so new scenes, new conversations, slightly different pacing.. this is all to be expected right like are y’all geneuinely surprised here or ........

there’s a lot we aren’t seeing yet because this is a TRAILER. again i already mentioned this re: connor but like... again, y’all are making some Claims that just... fucking outlandish. there are so many moments in the trailer that are very obvious Hard Cuts. you don’t have all the information yet. you are angry at a tiny fragment of something that is confusing you because you don’t have all the context. is there a chance that some of this shit is just genuinely Bad? yeah but you really cannot 100000% say it with your chest and gauge it without seeing the movie and understanding what that scene is in context. lowkey uhhh saw some jokes about the zoe scene in the car and :’))) ? jesus? christ????

concluding thoughts because my brain hurts but like. you don’t have to like the movie. you don’t have to WATCH the movie. like all media if you choose to consume the movie you should do so with some CRITICAL THOUGHT. but, just like the novel (and i do not want to have any discussions about that i don’t care if you think it’s good Or bad that’s not what this is about) you guys are going in this WANTING to believe it’s bad and completely polarizing your thoughts on what this is going to be. yeah, maybe there shouldn’t be a movie. i genuinely think we could’ve gone without. but it’s just a piece of media, it’s not a progression like all your (musical is good, novel is bad, MOVIE IS WORSE OH NO) posts are suggesting. they are all just. different pieces of media stemming from a source. at the end of the day it’s just a fucking movie. if you already hate it so much, guess what? you don’t have to watch it! you don’t have to put so much needless fucking hate into a 3 MINUTE TRAILER. you can stop being performative and dissing it for its poor treatment of POC while then going on to make fun of ben platt’s hair and just targeting a different group like! please !!!

i’m not trying to be a fuckin’ advocate for this movie because there’s so much opportunity for it to suck, i do Not have high hopes for it, and i’m not even really sure i want to watch it (i bought the novel when it came out and have yet to read it, and i’m sure the movie will like.. elicit very similar vibes from me lsdngjkdsg like im just not uhhh feeling it) but y’know what? watching the trailer did not bring forth the fucking onslaught of hatred in me that apparently has fuckin posessed all of y’all and like djnsgjksdg plagued my dashboard for this whole evening. don’t come into my inbox trying to like.. argue with me about this (preemptively im turning off anon because i like i Can’t lmao) this is just like... a rant i needed to get out of me real quick. 

SO. tldr for now: have critical thought about shit you consume, there’s no ethical consumption under [the film industry], you can’t judge a movie entirely on its trailer, and y’all need to calm the fuck down 

[obxlife]

Hotel Madness (JJ x Reader)

A/N: Another JJ fic, yes! Fun fact: JJ is my favorite character (along with Rafe too) and I think Rudy Pankow did an amazing job at portraying him in every single way. Like WOW, talk about acting skills. Anyways, this request is super cute and I tried to make it fluffy and sweet and everything. I loved the idea so much! Some of the fragments of this fic are short and some are long, but they are all part of the same story!!!!

Pairing: JJ x Reader

Word count: 5,930 (oops I got a little carried away with this one)

Request: Hey! I absolutely loved Slipping in and was wondering if I could request an imagine where you're a Pogue and work with JJ at the Hotel and them just having fun during their shifts and after or something?

Summary: Working with JJ at the hotel means a lot of inside jokes, laughs, and flirting. It means getting in trouble together and messing around in the kitchen. It also means some of the best memories ever. Some of the fragments of this fic are short and some are long, but they are all part of the same story!!!!

Warnings: FLUFF but also swearing, teenage recklessness and what not lol

HOTEL MADNESS

“JJ!” Mama L screamed out as your blond best friend stole a fry from the plate she was working on. Her wooden spoon came down to smack his hand, but he was too quick for the old chef. You giggled from where you stood, perched on the table next to Andrew, your other coworker. 

JJ moved towards you grabbing your hand and helping you jump off the counter. 

“C’mon, Y/N,” he told you, “Gotta head to our posts now.”

You frowned as you headed towards the restaurant area of the hotel. You smiled at the guests that were staying this weekend, your hands behind your back, and your uniform in place. 

You had been working at the hotel with JJ for a while now. It was one of the few places in Kildare County that had good job offers for kids your age. The best part was that most of these jobs were easy. So you and JJ had applied together (you guys hated working alone as you thought it was boring) and surprisingly got the job. Ever since you had been having a lot more fun than what was intended from your bosses, and you got into a lot more trouble than intended, too.

You had known JJ your whole life. After all, you were friends before working together. It all began back in the fourth grade when you had first arrived at the Outer Banks. You were nervous about being the new kid, but JJ and John B had approached you out of pity. Soon enough you guys were friends, bonding over your love for surfing and getting in trouble.

As the years went by, nothing seemed to be able to keep you apart (except that one time when you didn’t speak to them for two days because they made a period joke). You would head out in John B’s boat along with his father and fish all day. Or you would go into the forest and try to climb a tree as high as you possibly could. Or, once you hit your teen years, you would throw parties together and have beer chugging contests. Whatever activity you were doing, JJ and John B were always by your side. 

As you grew, Pope and Kie also joined the Pogues (that’s what you called your group). They were a bit less reckless than you, JJ, and John B, but they brought a lot to the group. For one, Pope was a lot smarter than you three. Granted, none of you were stupid, but you did tend to make rash decisions all the time (just ask sheriff Peterkin about it and she would pull out your very long transcripts). With Pope, these decisions seemed to become a bit less frequent. Kie was also smart. And she was a girl, which was a relief to you, as you couldn’t bare trying to have girl talk with JJ and John B.

“Gross!” they would exclaim. “We don’t want to know who you have a crush on right now!”

Boys. 

The five of you were always together. There were a rare few occasions when one of you was missing (normally Kie or Pope helping their parents), but you guys were a family.

Lately, however, you were spending a lot of alone time with JJ. Not only because you had decided to work at the hotel together but because all of the other Pogues were unusually busy. 

John B was normally hanging around a girl he had met which he still hadn’t introduced to the Pogues. Kie was also hanging around someone that wasn’t part of your tight-nit group (and you suspected it might be the girl she told you she had a crush on), while Pope was working hard on his scholarship. This meant that the only person available to follow through with your shenanigans and ideas was JJ. Which was fine, as he was always down for everything, no matter what it was. 

The blond in question was standing next to you, cracking out jokes about the hotel guests under his breath. You were trying not to giggle at what he said in hopes of not gaining any unwanted attention. The last time you had laughed loudly at one of JJ’s jokes your boss had called both of you into his office and scolded you. 

These times you shared with JJ were something you truly cherished now. Inside jokes had sprouted between you, and you felt as if you had never been closer. He even began to talk to you about his dad (which was a topic he usually avoided) on a regular basis, and you would tell him about your own problems. 

Noticing an empty table at the end of the dining hall, you poked JJ and cocked your head towards it. Together you moved to the table and looked down at the plates. 

“People are starving at the Cut but here they leave half of their food on the plate,” you mentioned to JJ softly. 

Starving was something both of you were used to. Not eating a well-sized meal was something that happened every once in a while, and was the root of your needs for your current jobs. 

JJ threw you a look as you both gathered the plates into your hands and moved towards the kitchen again. You dropped the plates at Andrew’s station, where he was going to throw the food away and wash the plates. 

You both began to rush back outside into the dining hall but were stopped by Diana, the receptionist, who grabbed your arms and pushed you back into the kitchen. 

“Whatever you think we did, it wasn’t us,” you stated, raising your hands in surrender. 

Diana scoffed. “So you guys aren’t the ones that sneaked a rat into room 501?”

You gave JJ a wide-eyed look, knowing her suspicions about you were right. The woman that was staying in that room had been exceptionally rude to you the day before, and JJ had convinced you to get revenge. 

JJ was an expert at lying and he quickly denied your actions. “No! We would never do that.”

Diana gave you a deadpanned look. You kept your mouth closed and your perfected poker face mask on (it had taken you years to make it as perfect as it was). 

Diana sighed and muttered, “God, I hate my job.” Then she sighed and said, “Okay. we have no evidence to prove it wasn’t you, so you’re off the hook.”

You beamed at Diana, but truly you were smiling to yourself. You knew the hotel had no evidence. JJ had Pope hack into the security and deactivate the security cameras of the fifth building’s hallway. 

“So we can get back to working now?” JJ inquired pointing towards the kitchen door. You could hear Mama L murmuring about you and JJ being misbehaved behind your back, as she knew all too well that you guys had escaped the consequences of your actions once again. Andrew was also stifling a laugh. 

Diana shook her head. “We need you two to deliver the room services that were ordered. Can you do this without getting into any trouble?”

JJ raised an eyebrow at her and laughed, nodding. 

“Bold of her to assume we get into trouble. It’s more like trouble chases us,” JJ laughed pulling out one of the kitchen’s carts from a supply closet. You took the tablecloths for the cart, laughing. 

“J, you most definitely know that we always are getting in trouble.”

JJ just shrugged. “It’s still bold of her to assume.”

You laughed at this. He simply beamed at you and pressed a hand to your waist, signaling for you to load the cart and head out of the kitchen.

Once you were away from the eyes of your superiors, you hopped onto one end of the cart as JJ began to run around and hop onto his end as well. Laughing out loud and speeding around, you tried to hold onto all of the plates on the cart. Stopping before the doors that had ordered room service, you caught your breath before knocking. 

After finishing all of the orders, JJ continued to push you around the halls of the building. Wind rushed by your ears as strands of hair fell from your ponytail. Suddenly, you tumbled off the cart as JJ pulled to a stop after turning around a sharp corner. While groaning in pain, he helped you up while apologizing to the hotel guest in front of you. 

When you were standing you looked towards the guest you had almost crashed and apologized as well. The apology, however, got caught in your throat as you looked at the boy standing before you. 

“It’s okay,” he assured you. “At least someone around here knows how to have fun.”

The boy was gorgeous, and both you and JJ let out a laugh at his statement. The guest was only looking at you though.

“Again, we’re really sorry. We should have been paying attention to where we were going,” you said once more. 

Finally turning away from the boy and returning to the kitchen, JJ said, “That guy was totally trying to flirt with you.”

You froze. “You think so?”

JJ nodded. “Yeah, he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. He was probably imagining you naked or something!”

You laughed. “Piss off, JJ.”

*************************************************

The classic place to find you and JJ after finishing your shifts at the hotel was at the back of the building smoking a joint. It had become a tradition for you two to smoke some pot before heading towards the Chateau or your place. 

Normally, the conversation that would flow between you would be a random topic that had sprung into your head that day. Sometimes they were about the plans you and JJ had with the rest of the Pogues. Sometimes they would be about the Kooks and plotting revenge on whatever they had done to your friends this time. 

“I know, for sure, that if I was up to Rafe, one on one, I would win,” JJ exclaimed. 

You pretended to think. You knew JJ could take Rafe, but you liked to mess around with him. “Hmmm, I don’t think you could. That boy is ripped.”

JJ raised his biceps and kissed them. “Not as ripped as me!”

“Whatever,” you laughed out. “Now Topper is someone you could definitely take on.”

“And Kelce too,” JJ said while nodding along with you. “And you could take on any of those Kook girls.”

“You bet,” you cheered, taking a drag from the hand-rolled joint. 

You were seated on top of some crates that were stacked behind the hotel as JJ stood before you. He took the joint from your extended hands. 

“You could probably fight them off better than Pope would,” JJ continued. 

At this, you belted out a laugh. 

JJ loved making you laugh. He had a thing for you and everyone seemed to know except for you. This ‘thing’ had been going on ever since he had met you, and there was no denying, to anyone, that you were his favorite person in the world. 

Sometimes, when he would have a fight with his father, he would think of running away from Outer Banks. And for some reason, he would always include you in whatever his plans were. Whether they were going to Yucatán or heading to another state or just to the mainland. He couldn’t bear the thought of not being with you or of leaving you behind. 

He would never admit it, but JJ truly thought you were his soulmate. Even before he had developed more than friendly feelings for you, he was sure you were a person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. You just clicked together, and your friendship made sense to everyone. He secretly hoped you thought this of him too and would spend many sleepless nights thinking of scenarios where you realized you were completely and utterly in love with him. 

“I would just need to watch out for their acrylic nails,” you continued talking. “Those things could pop one of my eyes out if I’m not careful.”

Giving you the joint JJ nodded before changing the topic. “So what are we doing tonight?”

You shrugged. The Pogues hadn’t planned anything to do together as a group. 

“Come over to my place, J. We’ll have a sleepover!”

JJ gave you the joint so you could have the last taste of it. Once you were done you threw it onto the ground and stomped it out.

“I’m down. Only if I get to sleep with you on your bed.”

You laughed before pressing a hand to your chest and opening your mouth in shock. “Are you trying to seduce me, Mr. Maybank?”

“I’ll only say yes if it is working,” he responded, winking at you. Of course you knew he was joking. You had been having sleepovers since you were young, and you had always shared a bed. 

You ran through the orderly streets of Figure Eight and then the run-down streets of the Cut. You walked up the pathway to your house, noticing that there still was no car in your driveway. It had been almost a month since the car hadn’t been there. 

You stood frozen and JJ took your hand, pulling you into your house. He hadn’t spoken to you much about your father leaving, but he knew that it pained you. 

Your father had left your house after he had been fighting with your mother. He had jumped into his car and he hadn’t returned. You had seen his car around the Cut a few times, which meant he was still on the island, but he was yet to return home. 

Your mother had been crying herself to sleep for the first two weeks, but soon she had vacated the house as well. She hadn’t been home for a while, and you were sure she was probably on the streets at night waiting for men that had enough money to pay her price. 

Your parents were clearly a sensitive topic. 

Your good spirit had died down a little when you noticed you were in your room. JJ had let go of your hand and was in the bathroom down the hall. He was shocked to find you in the same spot he had left you. 

“Do you want to talk?” he asked you gently. You shook your head. “Okay. Then we’ll just lay down for a while.”

He took your bag off your shoulder and set it down on the floor next to his, right at the foot of your dresser. He grabbed your hands and shoved some clothes into them, which you realized was one of his old shirts he had given you a long time ago and sweatpants. You took the clothes and headed towards the bathroom to change out of your work uniform. You knew JJ was probably changing into something more comfortable in your room. 

When you got back you saw JJ laying on your bed with only a pair of basketball shorts on. You lay next to him silently and he wrapped one of his arms around you. You snuggled together as JJ threw the covers over your bodies, encasing you in much-needed heat. JJ kissed the top of your head gently as he rubbed circles into your back.

“Are you okay?” he asked. 

“I will be,” you answered.

Trying to lighten the mood, JJ exclaimed, “Damn right, you will be.”

You giggled softly, grateful that JJ was always there for you through everything. 

“Don’t let your parents get you down, Y/N,” JJ whispered after a few moments of silence. “You’re so much more than whatever shit they put you through.”

He felt you smile against the skin of his shoulder, and you were gladly inhaling his scent. 

JJ was right. All you needed was your real family. And your parents did not fit into that mold.

*************************************************

“Would you mind getting me a second serving of this?”

The old man before you had been sweet to you throughout his stay at the hotel. He had been giving you large tips and friendly smiles. JJ thought that the man was a pedophile and had just taken a liking towards you. 

So, as you took the plate of the man and headed to the kitchen, you ignored the obscene gestures that were being made by the blond behind the old man’s back. 

Once you arrived at the kitchen you left the plate at Andrew’s station (“Hey, Andrew.”), before repeating the man’s order to Mama L.

Right at that moment JJ burst through the door. 

“What time is it?” JJ asked you. You fished your phone out of your pocket before telling him it was almost three in the afternoon. “Great. Only fifteen minutes left for our break.”

You nodded, going through your phone as you waited for Mama L to assemble the old man’s plate. Meanwhile, JJ wrapped his arms across your body, pressing himself into you and pressing you into the counter in front of you. He put his head in the crook between your neck and your shoulder and stared down at your phone. He read the text messages that had come from the Pogues stating that there was a kegger later that night. 

“You wanna go?” JJ asked you softly. He knew how much of a party animal you were, but he also knew you weren’t always up for partying. And if you wouldn’t go, he wouldn’t go either. He needed his party partner there to actually have a good time. 

“Yeah, let’s go.”

You felt JJ smile as he pressed his lips to your temple. “Good, because I really have been wanting to get drunk.”

You let out a laugh as Mama L called you over with the finished plate in her hand. Grabbing that, you broke out of JJ’s arms and headed towards the dining hall. 

Your coworkers watched as JJ followed you like a small puppy out of the kitchen. 

Mama L sighed. “If those kids don’t get married…”

Andrew nodded from his place behind the sink. “Yeah, I know.”

*************************************************

“Y/N, be quiet!” JJ called out from the other side of the room. 

You and him were on a mission. You had heard a word from other members of the hotel staff that a celebrity was staying at the hotel. This obviously intrigued you and JJ, which caused both of you to concoct a plan. This consisted of figuring out which room this celebrity was staying at (done), stealing a room key that would get you into the room (done), and sneaking into the room (in process). 

JJ had convinced you to steal some of this celebrity’s money with him. Which, looking back, was a terrible idea, but here you two were.

You had deactivated the security cameras of the hotel and had managed to sneak into the room with no problem. However, while being excited when seeing all of the designer clothes strewn across the room you had dropped a lamp from a table. This was causing JJ to promptly tell you to shut up. 

JJ was fumbling with the drawers of the bedside table as you continued to snoop through the celebrity’s belongings. 

Suddenly, you pulled out a long object and screeched. 

JJ turned towards you to reprimand you but stopped once he saw the object in your hand. 

“Oh, shit. Is that a vibrator?”

“Ew, ew, ew,” you let it go, watching it fall onto the floor. 

A knock at the door made your eyes widen. 

“Ms. Jones! Is everything okay?”

Your eyes darted between the door and JJ, before looking at the empty closet behind him. Tugging his arm, you pushed him into the closet and you followed inside, closing it after you. 

Straining your ears to listen, you heard as the door of the room opened. In walked Diana with a maid, looking around the room. 

“I’m sure I heard someone shriek from here!” Diana said while she looked across the room. 

The maid shook her head as she, in the most respectful tone as possible, said, “I’m sure it had to be another room! Ms. Jones hasn’t been here all morning.”

“I know! Which is why I’m sure those Maybank and Y/L/N kids are here. They’re always wreaking havoc through the hotel.”

Diana sounded as if it was her dream to fire you and JJ. This caused you to almost let out a giggle. Luckily, JJ’s hand clasped around your mouth and pulled you into his chest so that your back was against it. 

“Oh, they are lovely children, those two!” the maid exclaimed. “They are always bringing smiles to the guests!”

Diana shook her head and gave her a look of disbelief. “I don’t believe that at all.”

The maid kept talking as if she hadn’t heard Diana. “Oh, and everybody thinks they are such a lovely couple! Which they are, don’t you agree?”

Diana shook her head and continued to mutter, “I’m sure they’re here somewhere,” under her breath. 

In the meantime, JJ’s heart was racing and trying to look at your reaction to what you had heard. More specifically, the part about being a couple. 

You could feel his heart beating but had assumed it was due to the adrenaline of the moment, and not due to the fact that the maid had mentioned you were a couple. This thought made your hands sweat. You had imagined multiple times what it would be like to date JJ, but you didn’t truly think you had any feelings for JJ. Or did you? You knew the real answer to that question.

Diana kept looking around as the maid stood at the door, babbling on about some other members of the hotel staff that were nice. Diana simply ignored her, standing up from looking under the bed and turning towards the closet. 

Looking through the small crack between the closet doors, you saw Diana approaching the closet. Your breathing got heavier. This was it, you were going to be fired.

JJ’s hand moved to cover your nose as well. Your breathing was going to be heard by the receptionist if she continued to come closer, which she was. However, and like a miracle, a scream that had sounded similar to the one you had let out some minutes ago came from outside the room. Diana turned towards the room door as the screaming continued. 

“I think you should check on that,” the maid motioned with her finger towards the hallway. Diana sighed and nodded, leaving the closet untouched. You let out a sigh of relief as soon as JJ’s hands left your face. 

Unmoving you both stood there catching your breaths. Out of nowhere, the door of the closet was pulled open by the maid that had been talking with Diana. You recognized her as Ms. Amy, a woman from the Cut that lived near you. 

“You kids better run out of here before she comes back,” she scolded you and your best friend. JJ nodded, as you stayed still and shocked that she had known you were here. JJ grabbed your hand and tugged you to the door of the room. Before he could even touch the doorknob, Ms. Amy called out, stopping him. 

“Oh, and do give me the key you stole to put it back in its place. We don’t want you getting in any trouble with Diana.”

JJ sheepishly dropped the key into Ms. Amy’s hand. Ms. Amy only smiled at the both of you as you left the room. 

“I am never letting you convince me to do something like that ever again!” you exclaimed once near the kitchen. 

JJ pretended to frown at you. “Not even if I ask nicely?” he pouted. 

You laughed and shook your head, pushing the double-doors of the kitchen open.

You ran into the back, where your bags were set down in the staff room. You checked the time on your phone and noticed that your shift was over.

You took off your apron and grabbed your’s and JJ’s bags from the floor. Exiting the staff room into the kitchen you turned towards JJ who was talking with Andrew. 

“C’mon, blondie,” you called to him by his nickname.

JJ hopped off the counter by Andrew’s station and said bye to him and to Mama L (of course, with a kiss on her cheek). Then he followed you out of the kitchen’s back door and out to the alleyway between two of the hotel buildings. You settled down at your usual smoking spot, waiting for JJ to pull out a joint from his backpack. 

He pulled a little tin box from his bag and slipped a white, pre-rolled blunt from it. Then, putting the tin box back, he took his lighter, which was engraved with a double J, and placed the fire near the tip of the joint. 

Breathing in, smoke filled his lungs. He passed the weed to you, which you grabbed and inhaled. 

The nerves of almost getting caught were almost completely dissipated by now as an easy conversation began to flow between you and JJ. You soon reached the topic of the kegger you had gone to a couple of nights ago. 

Passing him the joint, you ruffled his hair, and asked, “Who did you hook up with this time? Was it that Touron you were talking to?”

JJ shook his head trying to get away from your hands. His hair was probably awful now. “No,” he simply stated. 

“Really?” you hummed, “I thought you did because you disappeared a while later.”

JJ shook his head, this time to answer you. “I was talking to Kie.”

This peaked your attention and curiosity. For some reason you felt jealous he was confiding with Kie and not with you. Before you could bring this up, however, he asked you, “What about you? Did you hook up with anyone?”

You laughed at the tone of voice he was using. “No, I didn’t.”

JJ frowned. You and him were similar in that way, always hooking up with people at parties. 

“Why not?”

“No reason,” you replied. You had actually wanted to say, You.

*************************************************

As summer approached, the hotel had changed your’s and JJ’s position. Now you were working at the hotel bar, which meant khaki-colored shorts and white polos for your uniforms. The heat from outside was unbearable, and all you wanted to do was dip your feet in the pool. 

Summer also meant that the hotel got filled with a lot more people your age than during the winter. Families on vacations and groups of young adults wanting to party on the east coast of the country were regulars, which meant that you were getting flirted with. A lot. 

This made JJ’s blood boil. All he wanted was for those guys that approached you to leave you alone because you were supposed to be his. But that was the thing. Supposed. 

Due to hotel policies, all of the waiters from the bar were allowed to have two drinks throughout the day for free. And JJ was just waiting for your break so that he could grab two drinks and head down to the hotel’s private beach with you.

After what seemed like hours JJ approached you with your drinks. You latched onto his hand, saying goodbye to the group of boys that had been talking to you, and headed towards the beach. JJ turned to witness the look of disappointment on the boys’ faces. He smiled to himself. 

“You’re knocking them dead, tiger,” he said to you, which caused you to snort. 

“No, I’m not.”

“You really are though. They’re all flirting with you.”

You just laughed as you sipped your drink away. JJ had chosen a strawberry juice for you, a mango juice for himself in his hands. You both took your sandals off your feet and dipped your feet into the ocean water, instantly feeling a lot cooler than before. 

You let out a sound that was similar to a moan, grateful that the water was cold and brought you relief. 

“Don’t make that sound,” JJ said, laughing. “It sounds like a moan!”

You opened your mouth, offended at what the blond had said. “Hey!”

JJ continued to laugh, dodging the hand you had thrown towards him in an attempt to punch his shoulder. “For what it’s worth, I wouldn’t mind hearing that during sex.”

“JJ!” you shrieked out. You splashed some ocean water onto him by raising your foot. He raised both of his hands in front of him, trying to block the water (which didn’t work). Then, he moved his hands even higher in a sign of defeat. 

You secretly wished JJ had actually meant what he said. JJ secretly wished you had taken what he said seriously.

***********************************************

The first kegger of the summer was always filled with people. This year was no different. 

You had been dancing with Kie for the most part. A couple of Tourons you recognized as guests from the hotel had tried to ask you to dance, but you had denied all of them. 

JJ had been staring at you from his post at the keg. He stood with John B and Pope, who surrounded him.

Everything was seemingly falling into place for the male Pogues. John B had broken up with the last girl he had been with (turns out she was a cheater) and Pope was all ready for his scholarship, which he needed to secure in an upcoming interview. Every one of them was happy, except for JJ. Wait, no - he was happy, but not as much as he could be. His longing eyes staring in your direction were enough proof of that. 

“Dude,” John B said in an exasperated tone of voice. “Just tell her.”

Pope nodded along, saying, “I’m pretty sure she likes you back.”

JJ pretended not to know what they were talking about. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

John B groaned and rubbed a hand over his face as Pope just gave JJ a look while the blond turned towards them. 

“Y/N,” Pope deadpanned. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Stop being difficult, JJ,” John B snapped. “We all know you like her. And Kie said she’s pretty sure she likes you, too.”

“Really?” JJ inquired in an excited manner. 

John B and Pope laughed. “We rest our case.”

JJ turned back to you, a smile dancing across his lips as he noticed you take Kie’s hand and spin her around. 

He could do this. He was going to ask you to dance with him. It wasn’t something you hadn’t done before together, but it was the first part of the plan that was forming inside of his head. 

He walked towards you, throwing a “See you later” to the other male Pogues over his shoulder. Mid-way through a spin you had spotted him and smiled. He was only about twenty feet away from you when a body covered his path. The large back he stared at blocked his view from you. 

“Wanna dance?” a gruff voice said. JJ was about to step back and let you dance with the boy before you, until he was surprised to hear you say, “Sorry, I was just about to dance with someone else.”

Going around the boy, you took JJ’s hand and dragged him to where you were before with Kie. The brown-haired girl had disappeared, which left you alone with JJ. 

You placed your hands around his neck as his went around your waist. You had danced before, so why was your heart pounding really hard this time?

You were moving to the rhythm of the music, swaying a bit and fooling around as people around you were grinding. You preferred your style of dancing. It was fun and lighthearted, just like you and JJ were. 

After a couple of songs and a lot more physical contact than usual, you had both decided to head back to John B’s house as you were bored. You first stopped by the Pogues to inform them that you were leaving and to gather your bags you had discarded. 

When you arrived at the Chateau you collapsed onto the hammock outside. On the chairs around it, there were a few of your discarded sweatshirts from other times you had been over there. Putting one of JJ’s on, you lay on the hammock and waited for JJ. When he was by your side you snuggled into him. He pulled out a joint from his pocket and held it between his ring-clad fingers.

You took it between your lips as JJ’s lighter was raised by its owner to the joint. You breathed in slowly and then let the smoke out. 

You sighed in content as you placed your head on his chest. 

“JJ, I love you,” you suddenly voiced out to the blond under you. He coughed a bit before saying, “Yeah, love you, too.” 

You shook your head softly and finally accepted what you truly meant. It didn’t matter if he didn’t feel it back, but you just suddenly had to speak it out loud. 

“No, JJ,” you softly spoke. “I’m in love with you.”

JJ tensed beneath you and you felt dread build up inside of you. Was he going to reject you or…?

You couldn’t complete your thought as the blond boy grabbed onto your face and pressed his lips into yours. You took his face into your hands as well and moved your mouth against his. It felt like heaven on Earth to kiss him this sweetly and softly. Your growing feelings for him exploded in confirmation as you realized that the person in front of you was the person you wanted to kiss for the rest of your life. JJ was it for you. 

He tasted of mint and weed, but you were sure you tasted similar to him. He smelled like he always had smelled (freshly cut grass and like the ocean), but this time, as you inhaled a breath, you were intoxicated by it.

One of his hands moved to grip your waist and you moaned as, at the same time he squeezed your side, he slipped his tongue into your mouth. 

When you pulled away your foreheads remained connected. Staring into each other’s eyes and smiling like idiots, you said, “I guess that is your way of saying ‘me too’?”

JJ nodded and pulled you into another kiss. It was just as intoxicating and thrilling as the first one.

The second time you pulled away, this time panting because of the more intense kiss, he spoke, “I’m in love with you, too. Ever since we took those goddamn jobs at the hotel.”

You grinned at him before burying your face into the crook of his neck. He felt the grin you were sporting pressed against his skin. JJ shivered at the feeling of having you in his arms, rubbing one hand up and down your back and the other one cradling your head. 

The joint you had been sharing lay discarded between your bodies. Unlike the times at the hotel, you wanted to be completely sober now. This was what your hotel madness had been building up to. To you and JJ, together. 

Mama L was going to be happy to hear about the new couple.

[tossawary]

Chapter 19: “Weddings and Funerals” of “pride is not the word I’m looking for” random favorite lines with commentary because I’m doing a re-read. Not a full list or full commentary. 

-

 When Shang Qinghua told Mobei-Jun that he didn’t need Shen Qingqiu assassinated, it wasn’t because he thought everything would somehow work out if he just sat back and didn’t do anything. It definitely wasn’t because he was planning a so-called “perfect murder” and didn’t want the demon lord messing up his plans. The Problem of Shen Qingqiu has always been a lot more  complicated than “just get rid of the guy potentially making my nephew’s life a living hell”. That’s why it’s a real problem! 

- 

AN: Shang Qinghua’s thought process: “Can this problem be solved by: 

A) Waiting for the problem to go away? 

B) Murder? 

C) None of the above? 

If the answer is C... 

Fuck, it’s a real problem.” 

- 

 Shang Qinghua thinks that might actually be possible, though he’d have to do some research and smack his head until his Author God memories hopped into line. He thinks that the youth-restoration procedure would probably do the job, but he also thinks that Shen Qingqiu would probably rather be dead than be physically sixteen again or something (super fucking understandable) and have to start the cultivation process over from scratch (ah, that would be so annoying and embarrassing). 

- 

AN: Given that I actually invented a de-aging potion for this fic (if one that’s difficult to put together), the AU of “Original Shen Qingqiu is physically 16 again” has been rattling around inside my head ever since I wrote these lines. Shen Qingqiu was like, “Wait, let me picture how unbearably overprotective Yue Qingyuan would be... hmm... no, I’ll just stay like this.” 

- 

 Luo Jiahui seems a little anxious about the empty spaces at the table, but she fills the space as best she can by chattering about assorted restaurant business. At least until she abruptly takes a deep breath and says, “Hua-Ge, I have something to tell you.” 

 Shang Qinghua freezes in the middle of taking a drink. His unhelpful brain immediately races to guess the worst possible conversational subjects. His sister-in-law has somehow figured out that he’s a transmigrator?! His sister-in-law has decided that her son is not going to the Demon Realm under any circumstances?! His sister-in-law knows Binghe better than he does and has realized that the young protagonist is being abused after all?! Oh,  fuck, what is it? 

 “I’m getting married!” Luo Jiahui announces, breathlessly. 

 “Oh,” Shang Qinghua says, heart rate going at the speed of sound. “Wait,  what?” 

- 

AN: This chapter is why I didn’t go into the details of LJH/LQG in the last chapter, immediately post-timeskip. I wanted to blindside everyone with an “Oh, it’s THAT serious?!” moment. The last chapter established that “SQH is handling things”, then this chapter establishes that, as the plot goes on, “SQH is only barely handling things”. Which helps prep the following breakdown with the System World Update in chapters 20-22. 

- 

 “You didn’t have any time for yourself,” Shang Qinghua agrees, following this conversation of very obvious things that he already knew so far. He didn’t have any time for himself back then either, between organizing a conference and finding a cure on top of the usual day-in-day-out of the sect. “You did a really good job looking after them all by yourself!” 

 “They don’t always agree with that,” Luo Jiahui says, smiling but self-deprecating. 

 “Aha, well, they’re young.” 

 The disagreements of what was best for the children is why Shang Qinghua really had to get Fanli (who didn’t see herself as a child) out of the house by any means necessary. He was at a bit of a loss at how else to help. She was never part of  Proud Immortal Demon Way! Not even as a fragment of backstory mentioned in passing! Shang Qinghua struggles to compensate for these extra people who were never characters sometimes. 

 “Qingge was very understanding,” Luo Jiahui says. “But… well… then Fanli was gone and I had the restaurant keeping me busy, but that was all my own choice… and what good was waiting really doing us? It didn’t have to be everything or nothing. So… we talked… about what we wanted and what- what we were afraid of… and we decided to go forward slowly.” 

- 

AN: I said in the Author’s Notes on AO3 that I was going to use Jiage to shame Moshang and Qijiu, and I meant it. TALK TO EACH OTHER!!! Shang Qinghua, you need to talk to Mobei-Jun about what you want! Shang Qinghua, you can’t keep putting things on hold because of the plot! 

- 

 No offense to either his sister-in-law or his junior martial brother, but aren’t love stories supposed to be a little more… fiery? 

 “When I was younger, I thought that falling in love was supposed to be all excitement and passion and not being able to live without someone even for a second,” Luo Jiahui admits, a little wistfully. “I thought that it was supposed to be thinking about them all the time, not being able to stay away from each other, and needing to know what they’d been doing every second they were away. It was like becoming a completely different person. I thought that being in love was about one of us getting horribly jealous every time we even talked to someone else, doing things I didn’t really understand and changing myself just to keep him happy, and keeping secrets and sneaking around just to keep things from exploding. Because love is not being able to help yourself like that, right?” 

 Shang Qinghua can’t really manage to speak right now. 

 It’s like someone has cut his fucking throat. 

 Which is fine! 

 “But that ended really badly for me,” Luo Jiahui says, with a nervous huff at her own understatement. “It was very exciting, but looking back, being in that kind of love was also very frightening sometimes… and it was a little lonely too… being in love with someone I couldn’t really talk to or trust.” 

-

AN: This is more specifically vagueing SVSSS Bingqiu than Moshang, but it’s also shaming Moshang too. Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky wrote some extremely messed-up romances and he would have said, “Yes! It’s all super messed-up! That’s kind of the point!” But it also means that the man can’t really conceptualize (at least at first) or articulate the kind of relationship he would actually be happy to have with Mobei-Jun, especially when his relationship with Mobei-Jun had such violent beginnings 

- 

 The first person he tells himself is, weirdly enough, Qi Qingqi. Liu Qingge apparently already told both Liu Mingyan and Luo Fanli before he left, so Shang Qinghua heads over to see how the girls are handling it. (Also, he wants to pump Liu Mingyan for information on her mother’s opinions on weddings and marriage, in a really pathetic attempt to ready himself for the rumble.) He makes her agree to keep the information to herself before telling and she does, like a bro! 

 And then he tells and she laughs in his fucking face! Eventually, she realizes that he’s looking for sympathy, he’s not just here to let her enjoy his suffering, as a form of payment after everything he and Liu Qingge have inflicted on her. Then she laughs at him again, even louder. 

 Sure, he’d laugh too if he was in her shoes! But not to her face! Rude! 

 - 

AN: Qi Qingqi also pointed while laughing, I think. It’s funny because it’s not her dealing with Liu Family shit this time. 

- 

 Shang Qinghua expected, this time last year, to be laser-focused on the plot! His attention was not going to stray even a little bit, he promised himself; he was going to be 110% dedicated to making sure that everyone he tripped into caring about made it through the least shitty version of  Proud Immortal Demon Way  possible. He was going to be a  machine  of a transmigrator! No distractions! All he wanted was for his family to make it through the quickest, least shitty bare bones of a plot! And he was going to  achieve, damn it! 

 Instead, he finds himself planning his sister-in-law’s wedding and it eats up time he didn’t fucking know he had to give. Immortal Alliance Conference, eat your fucking heart out! Cang Qiong Mountain Sect? Did he work there? Nope, he’s never heard of the place! He’s the Peak Lord of wedding planning now! 

- 

AN: This is me telling myself I’m going to get my life 100% together and then getting into a new video game and baking cookies instead. Or ditching my housecleaning plans to hang out with friends at a moment’s notice. 

- 

 At the wedding itself, Fanli tells her sister’s father-in-law that Binghe is also  very into birds and Shang Qinghua’s nephew spends a good chunk of the rest of the celebrations (and his precious time away from Qing Jing Peak) held hostage by his own politeness, listening to his new grandfather earnestly tell him about the various migration habits of demonic birds. 

 Well! Better him than Shang Qinghua, honestly! 

-

AN: Inspired by that time we went on vacation and one of my brothers got mistaken by one of our travelling companions for a budding serious birdwatcher instead of someone who just thinks they’re neat - and also likes to point at them and intentionally call them by the wrong name. 

Also, LQG’s Dad in this fic and SY would probably get along super well. 

LQG and his dad in this universe have gone out on month-long camping trips to in which they pretty much don’t talk the entire time. They stalk monsters through the wilderness and have a great time.

- 

 Shang Qinghua is too busy keeping an eye on Luo Fanli and being  not talked to by Liu Mingyan, who is eighteen-ish years old now he thinks and still deeply embarrassed by the fact that he told her off for her real person fiction. (He doesn’t want to discourage her passion for writing! She’s pretty good for a kid! It’s pretty cute! Everyone needs their escapist hobbies! He just doesn’t want identifying information about his family being spread around freely, even if the characterizations of the couple are… uh… wildly reimagined, and he doesn't want to have to spend his very valuable time keeping a lookout for more illicit fiction.) It’s difficult to read her expression through the ever-present veil, but… yeah, she’s still pissed off at him.

 Ugh, teenagers. 

 Binghe is not allowed to bring several hundred nieces-in-law into Shang Qinghua's life. Just... no. Fuck, no. 

 He doesn’t even get a date to commiserate about this with. 

 It’s a very small wedding, family only (Luo Jiahui’s shitty parents  don’t count  and her older brother was forced to decline the invitation), so that Luo Jiahui and Liu Qingge can keep their privacy. Madam Liu huffed about it - the battles in talking her down were both great and terrible - but her son stood his ground! Sure, people might whine someday about not being invited, but the great thing about Liu Qingge is that they can more or less just say,  “Well, we couldn’t stop him from doing whatever he wanted!”  And people just have to take that unless they want to claim they could take on the Bai Zhan Peak War God! 

- 

AN: Trying to imagine the AU in which SQH brought MBJ as his date to this wedding. SQH would’ve liked to be able to bring MBJ as a date, but alas, they are not dating and the groom would probably try to kill the man. 

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 Shang Qinghua is not expecting, soon after returning from his sister-in-law’s happy and long-awaited wedding, to be solemnly informed that Shen Qingqiu’s health has only really deteriorated these past months. Wow, that’s a huge downer. 

 Also, he already knew that? He’s been getting Mu Qingfang all the right supplies to treat their shixiong. He didn’t actually abandon his duties to the sect for a family wedding. He knew that Shen Qingqiu had fallen sufficiently ill to need tending on Qian Cao Peak in the past month and he considered it, well, convenient timing in regards to Binghe’s permission to attend his mother’s wedding not being randomly revoked. Cold-hearted, maybe! But he had lots of other things to worry about at the time, like informing Mobei-Jun that his sister-in-law was getting married and so he’d be regrettably absent to attend the wedding. 

 Then he’s told that Shen Qingqiu is not expected to improve this time. 

  “Oh, shit, they really think he’s dying,” Shang Qinghua realizes. 

 This really wasn’t in  Proud Immortal Demon Way. 

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AN: I seriously contemplated cutting this chapter in half because of this mood switch. Like, I went in intending on writing a serious mood switch, but in practice, wow. It felt like a lot more in practice. 

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 “Our sect leader asks about the boy and his progress,” Shen Qingqiu rasps, his voice turning more and more accusing. “He’s  so very  concerned about the boy. We can’t have such a beloved child  crying  to his devoted family that he’s been mistreated or neglected, can we? How flattering these assumptions are. It makes a man wonder what exactly people think he’s going to  do to the boy.” 

 Shang Qinghua might have an itemized list somewhere, honestly. 

 “Ah, I can’t speak for anyone else,” Shang Qinghua says finally. “But please don’t take it personally, Shen-Shixiong. I don’t really trust anyone. Anything can happen behind a locked door, you know?” 

 Some honest cynicism can go over well with the man. 

 Shen Qingqiu laughs bitterly now. 

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AN: It can be fun in media where Character A is like, “Ahhh, I hope no one discovers my secret!” And Character B is like, “So, about this extremely obvious thing that you’re doing...!” 

Shen Qingqiu is as honest and open as he is throughout this scene because he honestly thinks that he’s dying. He’s determined to be blithe about it. 

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Shang Qinghua at least gets to see Mu Qingfang’s face journey as Shen Qingqiu accuses their sect leader of letting him think that he’d left him to die. As Shen Qingqiu yells about being treated like an unwanted ghost, as a potential blackmailer, as an embarrassing disappointment, as a petty troublemaker, as a spoiled child, as a problem to be solved, and as the last blemish on Yue Qingyuan’s reputation - anything but as someone worthy of being trusted with Yue Qingyuan’s problems and of being treated like an equal friend. 

 Yue Qingyuan tries to explain that he didn’t think Shen Qingqiu wanted to hear his excuses, and Shen Qingqiu shoots back that he would rather fucking die than beg the man he’d thought had forgotten about him to explain when exactly he became not worth rescuing as soon as possible. 

 Yue Qingyuan tries to explain that he didn’t want Shen Qingqiu’s pity or to force the man to be grateful that he’d  tried. 

 Shen Qingqiu tells the man to go fuck himself. How could it not hurt for someone he loved to hurt him and then just…  move past the hurt  like the pain wasn’t  who they were? 

 “All the world could revile me… reject me… leave me to die… and I would pay their hatred no heed! What do they truly know of what I am? Of who I am?” Shen Qingqiu demands. “But if  Qi-Ge  could throw me away… decide that I just wasn’t worth the  trouble anymore now that he’d had a taste of a better life… then I really must be wretched beyond all things at the root! If he believed it, then… then it had to be true.” 

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AN: Because I just wrote a Qijiu confrontation over this exact thing, like, a few days before, I thought that I could get away with writing out this entire confrontation in full. I think it works better if the audience has to imagine some of it. And because SQH is the POV character, it felt right that he not be in the room and not be a full witness to this scene. He doesn’t get to see everything.