#i swear this was not connected to the last post it was a beautiful coincidence

[incorrect-moulinrouge]

Moulin Rouge! (2001) + texts (1/2)

[cinnaleaf]

ESSENCE OF US - CH 2: SPARKS IN THE AIR

Please read responsibly. This fic will get hot and heavy as the story progresses, 18+ only MDNI | READ CH 1 HERE | READ CH 3 HERE

summary: a fleeting encounter with a mysterious Trent leaves you wondering if fate is playing a bigger match. your paths continue to cross in unexpected places as the fragrances around you mirror the growing tension between you. maybe it's just a coincidence..or maybe its destiny in the making.

warnings: strong language, sexual tension, eventual smut (I SWEAR IT'S COMING) genre: fluff, angst, slow(ish) burn romance wc: ~3.7k

a/n: getting this out now so i can post ch 3 faster.. its my fav 🤭

A soft chime from the door at Les Notes d'Amour signalled another customer had just left, leaving the cozy boutique quiet again. The warm, spicy scent of cardamom wafted through the air as you stood behind the counter absentmindedly swirling a small vial of essential oil between your fingers. Your mind was drifting far from the new perfume you were supposed to be working on. 

The fragrance you were creating was in front of you, it was meant to capture those small and unexpected encounters that leave lasting impressions. The idea was brewing since the odd train ride from a few days ago. You decided bergamot was the perfect top note. It was fresh, bright, and fleeting just like the guy in the oversized hoodie and sunglasses that had a beautiful smile and made good conversation.

Ugh. You hadn't even asked for his name. You were cursing yourself for not asking him for his name.

It felt so silly, really. People cross paths all the time, especially in big cities. You tried to tell yourself it was nothing more than a random moment, just a brief interaction with a stranger you’d never see again. But something about him felt different. There was an easy connection, an undeniable spark that left you curious and wondering if it was all just a coincidence. You could still picture his ridiculous outfit, his playful grin, his casual banter about the ‘eclipse’, and the way he seemed genuinely interested in your work. 

You sighed, setting the vial of cardamom back down on the counter. The scent of the spice filled the boutique, mixing with the other perfumes lingering in the air. It reminded you of how unsettled your thoughts had been since that day.  Fleeting moments was supposed to be the inspiration for the new fragrance you were working on. Something bright like bergamot could be used to capture the spark of chance encounters, while cardamom could be used to reflect the way the moments linger long after they’ve passed. 

Every time you tried to focus, your mind wandered back to him. The memory of his hoodie pulled low and his sunglasses hiding his eyes. Something about him was familiar, even though you were one hundred percent sure you’d never met him before. Maybe it was just the casual way he spoke, or the fact that you had been wrapped up in the conversation so quickly.

Still, you tried to brush it off. You had a boutique to run, customers to attend to, and a fragrance to finish. But the more you tried to ignore it, the more the memory seemed to tug at you. What were the odds of running into someone like that? A stranger who left such a lasting impression in just a few minutes?

You inhaled deeply as you took in the warmth of the cardamom around you. The scent was rich, comforting, but with an edge of spice that kept you on your toes. Just like the idea of fleeting moments—the way life could surprise you when you least expected it.

No matter how much you told yourself it was just a coincidence, a small part of you couldn’t help but wonder if your paths would cross again. The thought of it left excitement simmering just beneath the surface no matter how hard you tried to push it away.

The door chimed again, interrupting your thoughts, and you snapped back to the present, focusing once more on the work in front of you. You needed a break, somewhere to clear your head. After the last customer left, you decided to take a brisk walk to one of your favorite cafés.

A soft hiss from the espresso machine filled the air as you quietly settled into a corner of a local café. The space was a welcome change from the perfumed haze of Les Notes d'Amour, where you spent hours unsuccessfully trying to perfect your latest fragrance venture. A change of scenery could definitely help spark some inspiration, or so you thought. Your lavender notebook was open in front of you, with blank pages waiting for ideas, but your mind was elsewhere and kept drifting back to the moment on the train. 

The café usually had a warm atmosphere that put you at ease. The smell of freshly ground coffee mingled with the scent of baked goods wafting from the counter. You took a sip of your latte hoping the caffeine would jolt you back into focus. But you continued to sit there, staring at the blank page as your thoughts kept circling back to the stranger from the train that you hadn't seen since that day. What little of his face you saw beneath the hoodie and sunglasses lingered in your mind.

You knew the odds of running into him were slim, but the encounter felt like some strange twist of fate that brought you together in a brief and unexpected way. You sighed, tapping your pen against the page as you tried to push your thoughts aside. You were here to work, not daydream about some weirdo who looked like he was dressed as Damian from the Mean Girls movie. 

Still, the inspiration wouldn't come. You were about to close your notebook in frustration when you felt it—a presence that was familiar yet unexpected. The kind of awareness that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. You glanced up, your heart skipping a beat as your eyes landed on the figure that stood near the counter.

It was him.

The guy from the train. Oh my god.

He looked almost exactly the same as before. Hoodie, baseball cap pulled low, and sunglasses perched on his face despite the dim lighting in the café. It was one thing to wear this fit on the train, but now he looked completely out of place in the intimate setting of the café. You blinked a few times, not quite believing what you were seeing. 

He hadn’t noticed you yet, but you could feel the recognition building, sort of like the tension in the air right before lightning strikes. As if sensing your gaze, he turned around. His eyes—well you assumed he had eyes behind those sunglasses—locked onto yours. For a second it felt like a freeze frame, neither of you moving. All you could focus on was the flicker of surprise and recognition that passed between the two of you.

A smile started to tug at the corner of his lips and you began smiling too, feeling the same pull that you felt on the train. There was no hesitation in his stride. Within seconds, he made his way over to your table with the same casual demeanour and confidence he had during your first encounter.

"We gotta stop meeting like this" he said with a playful smirk as he slid into the seat across from you like it was the most natural thing in the world. 

The tension in your chest eased a little and you laughed, "Same to you. What are the odds?"

"Honestly?" he shrugged as he pulled the hoodie tighter to him. "The universe is probably messing with us."

It was so absurd to think about that you couldn’t help but laugh. Really? Twice now. First the train and now here. "Do you always wear sunglasses indoors?" you teased as you nodded toward his now-signature look.

He lowered his head slightly as if he was hiding behind the lenses, "Trying to keep a low profile."

"Low profile? I'm not sure a hoodie and sunglasses are 'low profile'. Might need to update that look."

"Well it worked the first time, huh?"

You raised your eyebrow slightly as you leaned in, amused by the conversation you were having. "Did it?"

His grin widened but he didn’t answer you. He leaned back in his chair, very clearly enjoying the banter between the two of you. There was something so easy about it, you’d never been able to slip into a conversation as if you’d done it a thousand times before with anyone, especially a man. Beneath the lightheartedness there was still that sense of curiosity. Who the fuck was this guy and why did you keep running into him? 

"Never caught your name," you said, breaking the brief silence. Once was a coincidence, but twice?? You weren’t letting this man slip away this time. He hesitated for a split second, almost as if he didn’t want to tell you. But then he offered his hand and shrugged, "Trent."

As you took his hand into yours, you felt the warmth of his palm against yours. Trent. It felt familiar, but you still couldn’t put two and two together. The name suited him though.

"I'm y/n" you replied a bit more formally than you planned. He was making you nervous for some reason despite the casual vibe of the conversation. "So y/n..come here a lot?" Trent asked in a light tone.

You nodded, feeling a bit more at ease. "Yeah, to clear my head. Work has been...too much lately." He leaned forward and rested his chin on his hand, "Lemme guess. Perfume?"

"How did y–"

"The train. You mentioned it there" he said, his voice a bit softer now.

Oh my god. He remembered.

Warmth spread through your body; the way he said it felt so intimate. "Yeah" you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "Been working on a new fragrance but I just can't get it right. It's supposed to be about chance encounters that stay with you, but it's been a lot harder to capture than I thought."

"Chance encounters, huh?" Trent mused as his smile spread into something more thoughtful. "You've got plenty inspiration."

"Wait, what?" you tilted your head, intrigued.

He shrugged, "Look at us. The universe keeps throwing us together"

You laughed but his words struck a chord within you. He was right. Something about this felt serendipitous. Your paths crossed twice now in the most unexpected ways. Was there something more? You decided to go for it. What’s the worst that could happen?

"Well…if the universe keeps bringing us together.. I guess I’ll have to get used to seeing you around."

Trent smirked as he adjusted his glasses and shifted in his chair, "Sounds like a plan."

As the conversation flowed, you found yourself intrigued by Trent more than ever. There was still a lot you didn't know about him, but you couldn't deny the pull you felt towards him. It was like a moth to a flame. The warmth and mystery felt so unexpected, yet so right.

The coziness of the café wrapped around you both. Trent settled more comfortably in the seat across from you as you continued talking. "Tell me about your work." Trent said, his eyes still hidden behind the sunglasses but his tone still genuine. "Perfume sounds like a specific craft. Must be more to it than just mixing stuff, yeah?"

You smiled, pleased that he was still so curious. Most people thought the art of perfumery was too niche for them to care about. Trent's question sparked a sense of pride in you. You rarely had a chance to share with people outside of your career, and it was exciting. "It's more than mixing smells. I like to capture emotion or memories." You leaned in closer to him as you continued to go on a long, rambling tangent about perfume, "There's the top note that you smell first, like a first impression. But then there's the heart notes that last longer and give it character. The base notes linger and stay with you."

He nodded, clearly interested "So you tell stories through scents?" 

"Exactly" you said, a bit more excited than you wanted to admit. "The one I'm working on is inspired by moments that seem small but stick with you. Like when you meet someone and it feels like nothing at first, but then you can't stop thinking about it. I want that in a fragrance."

"That’s deep. Never really thought much about it. Guess you got lots of stories in those little bottles, huh?" he said with a small smile. 

"Yeah, you could say that…" you brushed a strand of hair behind your ear feeling extremely shy all of a sudden. The conversation lulled for a while and you started to feel a subtle shift in the air between you. The scent of the cardamom from your perfume kit was mingling with the aroma of the coffee from the café. The spice of the cardamom matched the depth of the moment, a warm feeling that wasn't overwhelming but definitely there and simmering below the surface. 

"What about you?" you asked, turning the conversation back to him. "You probably have an interesting job too, right? You said you were keeping a low profile." There was a hint of hesitation in his body language. He was really good at being vague and never giving away too much. It made you so curious, and you wanted to know more. "Uh..yeah. I guess it’s interesting. Got a pretty busy schedule. It gets intense..."

"Intense how?" your nosiness now getting the best of you. 

He gave you the kind of smile that let you know he wasn't going to answer your question directly. "It's just not the typical nine to five." You were so intrigued but also frustrated. He had a wall around him. "Soo mysteriousss" you said with a teasing grin. "What's so intense that requires sunglasses indoors?"

"Just like to keep a low profile when I can. Makes things easier." You wanted to dig a little deeper into what he was so clearly hiding, but you also didn't want to push it too far. You barely knew him, but you wanted to understand him. The mysteriousness was part of what made him so intriguing, but it also made you feel like you were on uneven ground.

"Oh...fairs," you said finally not wanting to press him too hard. "Guess we all have secrets." Trent's smile softened and you wondered what he was thinking about behind his sunglasses. It was so frustrating not knowing, but it was oddly comforting too. It didn't seem like he was being secretive about it for the sake of it. Maybe he was protecting something.

Or someone.

The conversation shifted to lighter topics. You talked about the city, about your favorite place to unwind, and about the joys of working for yourself. Your hands would brush with Trent's every now and then when you both reached for your cups. The touch felt exhilarating but neither of you acknowledged it. The chemistry was undeniable. He leaned forward to pay attention every time you spoke, like he didn't want to miss a single word you said. He finally took his sunglasses off and your eyes kept meeting, holding gazes a little longer than necessary. You were so caught up in the moment that you still didn't realize who he was. The scent of cardamom surrounded you in a warm and spicy blend that perfectly matched the tension in the air. It honestly felt a little symbolic, like the fragrance was mirroring the growing connection between you and Trent. It had depth to it, complexity that made you want to stay in the moment longer and peel back all the layers to understand more. 

There was also the mystery. He dodged certain questions and avoided talking about his life too openly. It was charming, you definitely wanted to know more about him and why he kept such a low profile, but you didn't want to push him away. It wasn't every day you bumped into a stranger–twice–who left this kind of lasting impression. "You’ve got a unique perspective on life" he said, suddenly breaking the silence and bringing you back to earth. "It's refreshing."

"Huh? What do you mean?" you asked curiously. 

"Dunno" he shrugged, "you're different in a good way. Don't meet people who think the way you do." You felt your cheeks warm up, completely caught off guard by his words. 

"Thanks..I think?"

"Definitely a compliment," he laughed. 

You could tell there was more he wanted to say but he wasn't sure how to. There was unspoken curiosity between you two, questions that hadn't been asked yet. The longer you sat there, the more comfortable you felt in this whimsical mystery. Maybe you didn't need to know everything right away. Part of the allure was in not knowing and gradually unfolding whatever this was. You wanted to keep talking to him, but you knew the conversation would end eventually. He obviously had a life outside of the café just like you did. Even if you didn't know the full story, his life was probably a lot more complicated than he let on. 

A subtle tug of conflict started pulling at you. The chemistry was there but he remained just out of reach. There was something he wasn't telling you that seemed important. But then again you barely knew the guy, was it even in your place to pry? You tried to convince yourself of that, but your curiosity just kept growing. Just as you were about to ask him more about his life, Trent's phone buzzed on the table and broke the comfortable silence between you. As he glanced down at the screen his expression shifted from relaxed to frustration. He let out a frustrated sigh as if he was weighing his options before he looked back up at you. "Sorry, got to take a look at this." You nodded to try to keep your disappointment from showing, "No worries."

Trent hesitated for a bit before checking his phone as his frustration deepened. "Gotta run," he said as he stood up from the table rather quickly. He looked at you with intensity and it made your heart skip a few beats, "But..can I see you again y/n?"

You were practically squealing on the inside but you kept your composure on the outside.

The question caught you off guard but in a good way. You didn't know him well but you wanted to take a chance. "Yeah, I'd like that."

Trent's lips curved into a relieved grin as he handed you his phone, you quickly entered your number into his phone. You'd done this a bunch of times before with other people, but this time it felt more significant than it should have.

"Great. I'll text you." he said as he slipped his phone back into his pocket. Before you could say anything else his phone buzzed again and he winced slightly. "I'll be in touch. Soon." Internally, you were still squealing like a teenage girl at a k-pop concert. You nodded as he headed out the door with his ridiculous 'low profile' outfit, disappearing into the bustle of the city.

You found yourself staring at the empty seat across from you much like before on the train ride. It felt like unfinished business. Would you even hear from him again or was this the start of something more? You glanced down at your phone, half expecting a message from him already but the screen was still dark. You sipped your now-cold latte as the warmth from before faded away. Trent had definitely left an impression. Whether it was fleeting or not, only time could tell. You gathered your things and stepped out into the street as you began walking back to the boutique, your mind still racing with thoughts of him, unanswered questions and the possibility of something more.

Back at Les Notes d'Amour, a mix of different scents greeted you. The comforting aroma couldn't fully put you back into the present as you sat at your desk and tried to focus on work. Your thoughts kept drifting.

Trent. 

You started to replay the entire conversation from the café in your mind, picking apart every word and small detail. He was so easy to talk to, yet still mysterious at the same time. Not knowing much about him was unsettling and conflicting. You wanted to know more, but you felt like you were letting yourself get swept up in an idea of someone you didn't really know.

You reached for a vial of cardamom and held it to your nose. It smelled warm and complex, sort of grounding. It reminded you of Trent—layered, but with a spice that made you want to figure out what was underneath all the mystery. You felt insane for romanticizing a stranger for something more than what he was. But was that the problem? You only met him twice in two brief encounters. Was that even enough to warrant all the curiosity about him? Or were you just letting your imagination run wild? You felt foolish for reading into it too much. Maybe Trent was just a regular guy that liked to keep to himself and you would never see him again, or maybe there was something more to him. You tried to push your thoughts of Trent aside as you leaned back into your chair and reached for your phone. A quick scroll through social media would definitely distract you, or so you thought. 

You absentmindedly flicked through your feed until something caught your eye. It was a post from a news outlet about a high profile football event in Liverpool. There was the usual crowd of featured athletes, flashing smiles across the camera. 

Your heart stopped. 

One of the photos was of him.

TRENT.

It wasn't just the guy you met on the train and in the café. No. This was Trent Alexander-Arnold, one of the most famous footballers. The Trent everyone in Liverpool knew. 

Why the hell was he on the train that day anyway?

You stared at his photo, your heart racing and mind scrambling trying to piece together all the clues. The hoodie, cap, sunglasses, the vagueness about his life. It all clicked into place. How did you not realize this sooner? 

A strange rush of emotions hit you all at once. You were shocked, confused, and a little embarrassed. All this time you were casually talking to one of the most well known athletes and you didn't even recognize him. You thought he was just some intriguing stranger, but he was that Trent. 

As you tried to process the revelation, your phone dinged in your hand which jolted you back to reality. There was a text from an unknown number that popped up on your now-lit screen. You opened it up and your pulse quickened.

Coffee again sometime? – T

You stared at the message, your heart pounding and head dizzy. You weren’t sure what to think or feel. One thing was for sure though..

Your world was a lot more complicated now.

| READ CH 3 HERE |

is this making sense to anyone yet or....? share any thoughts! i dont have the energy to make an official header so pls be kind lol thanks for reading!

[creativeashproductions]

If I Stay Part Two (Final) // Luke Patterson

Summary: Life as you knew it shattered and now you’re left picking up the pieces with memories of a boy with hazel eyes in your dreams. A handsome guitarist who easily becomes your unseen number one supporter. If only you could see him again.

Warning: Swearing, mention of injuries, mention of car accident and talk of death.

Words: 2.5k (excluding the song lyrics of “I Won’t Let Go” by Rascal Flatts)

A/N: Second and last part to If I Stay! I really enjoyed this story because I adored Charlie St. Cloud and I really enjoyed If I Stay. The second part to Lost Time will be up soon when I feel confident in the storyline of it.

If I Stay Part One

Masterlist

In a split second for the first time, you felt yourself, poof, away to a sterile white room staring down at the person in the bed. Covered in cuts and bruises of all colours, was you. A broken version of you that made you sick to your stomach. You desperately yearned to go back to being unaware.

“I’m…a ghost?” You breathed looking at your blemish-free hands, a juxtaposition to the arm in a cast. Then in a nauseating thought, the grief faded for fear on your family. Had they survived? You ran out of the room straight to a nurse, “Where are my parents! Where’s my cousin Lou?”

Of course, the nurse was unaware of an upset, emotional teenage girl, a victim of a car crash and in a battle for her life. Realizing no one would answer you spent hours running around the hospital searching for your parents or Lou.

“Lou!” You shouted through the halls unfazed as you ran literally through gurneys and medical equipment even the odd doctor.

At the very last room, you found Lou sitting up in a bed staring silently at the white wall with an official man seated by the side of her bed. He held a clipboard in his hand.

“Lou, how are you feeling?” The man spoke, his white coat embroidered with his profession and labelling him a psychiatrist.

“Fine.”

“You’ve suffered a trau-“

“I’m aware. I was there. I saw a paramedic violently hitting my cousin’s chest, I saw so much blood. I didn’t know there could be that much blood!” Lou snapped glaring the man down, “I saw the brains of the idiot that caused the accident! You don’t know shit! Oh, your little degree magically has you able to understand what I’m going through?!”

“Lou-“

“You wanted me to talk! So, let me talk!” Lou screamed at the man startling you with the anger, “My cousin! My best friend, my SISTER is up in a bed in a coma! A coma because I wanted to go to a stupid resort to ski! It’s my fault! And no one will tell me anything about my aunt and uncle!”

You stumbled back at the pain Lou displayed, it broke your heart, and you couldn’t listen to it anymore.

“Lou, let’s talk about survivor’s gu-“

You fell through the closed door before you could hear anything more from the psychiatrist. You ambled around the floor aimlessly feeling the worst you ever had and to think for two weeks you hadn’t been aware of anything.

“Did you hear?” A nurse spoke from just outside your hospital room. You jogged over reading her name tag of Melissa.

“Heard what?”

“The father of the mountain accident he flatlined in surgery. Doctors got him back, but they’re concerned about brain damage.” Nurse Melissa told her fellow nurse with concern pinching her expression.

“That’s the father of the Y/L/N patient, right?” Nurse Lucy spoke glancing at your hospital door, “I hope they’ll be alright.”

“That poor girl has quite the decision to make. To live or to die. It’s all on her now.” Nurse Melissa replied, “Her mother died-“

“Little unprofessional to gossip about patients in earshot of everyone. Did you know that coma patients can often hear things while unconscious? Or my favourite tip…did you learn about HIPAA?” The doctor on duty asked, staring the two nurses down with a glared. Each nurse shifted on their feet, “Stop gossiping and do your job. I’m sure you can change bedpans or give sponge baths.”

The nurses scattered, leaving you standing in shock at the information given to you. Your mother was dead, your father could be brain dead, and Lou wasn’t coping well. Leaving you in a state of wondering what to do. Should you stay in a world without your parents or let go to join them in heaven. The thought had you collapsing into screams on the floor as everyone went about their work; walking through the hysterical teenager.

A warm hand slid into your own with a comforting squeeze, but all you wanted was to feel your father wrap you in a bear hug. To listen to your mother’s laugh, move in the air with that beautiful musical sound. You want Lou to be okay.

Luke was quiet as he sat the floor, squeezing your hand every once in a while. You slumped into his arms, staring unfeeling at the door that separated your ghostly form from your physical one. Luke poofed you to the Molina garage right on the couch where he held you tight for god knows how long.

“She’s dead.” Your voice cracked tears rolling down your cheeks once more, “My mom is dead.”

“Sh.” Luke cooed pressing his lips against your temple as you curled further into his body. His heart broke for you as the gravity of the situation became crystal clear.

“Hi.” Luke’s eyes met the concerned ones of Julie Molina, a girl that would undoubtedly know how you felt. The thing that connected you being the loss of a mother figure, “I’m Julie.”

Your blank expression lifted to see a girl you had often seen in the halls of Los Feliz High School and vaguely remembered her. She had been performing during the Spirit Rally months ago.

“I’m a friend of Luke, Reggie and Alex. I’m sorry you’re going through this, but you are more than welcome to stay here. You can be in my room or here if you’re more comfortable.” Julie offered knowing exactly how you felt when a year ago, she had been grieving the loss of her mom.

“Thank you.” You replied hoarsely. Exhaustion from sobbing closed your eyes, something that was different to Luke as a ghost was your ability to sleep. 

Alex theorized that you could sleep because your body was still alive, whereas the boys had no physical body. They were just ghosts. He and Reggie were in the studio sadly watching as you slipped in a deep unsettled sleep. Luke’s broken eyes met his best friends before he had Alex come over.

“Please stay with her.” Luke whispered, leaving the tall blonde to switch places. Luke disappeared without another word.

“Where’s-“Julie began, but Reggie interrupted her with a sad smile.

“Remember when we took you to Luke’s house? He’ll do the same but with her.” Reggie supplied coming to sit on the floor in front of the couch; his hand grabbing yours in support.

In a medium-sized house with a backyard kept tidy by the neighbours, Luke found his way to your room. His grabbed a few items of clothing and sneakers into a discarded bag before he dropped the bag off in Julie’s bedroom. His next stop was your hospital room. Luke settled himself in the chair beside you watching your chest go up and down from the breathing tube.

“Hi. I don’t know you in this form, but I know your spirit. I’m not good with my words, but I’m going to try. Two weeks ago I met you in a record store, and I fell in love faster than I can tune my guitar and believe me I have the record in the band. I never believed in love at first sight, but I also didn’t believe in ghosts, but here we are!” Luke chortled leaning to place his hand on yours, but it slipped through.

His smile saddened, “As much as I love holding you and kissing your head… I’d much prefer feeling that aching and yearning feel in my gut. If I felt that then it meant you would be alive and well. I’d rather be sad that I can’t feel you than have you die so young.”

Luke saw your eyelids flicker and he hoped it was because you could hear him.

“You have so much to live for. It’s gonna be hard. I can’t deny that, but I need you to stay. Stay alive and fight for me. For Lou.” Luke choked, squeezing his eyes shut grateful when a hand rested on his shoulder. He knew it was Alex.

“Whatever you’re saying. Continue.” Alex whispered, “It’s working, her body is slowly becoming transparent.”

Alex’s words were further proven as Nurse Melissa jogged in surprised as she took vitals, “Well I’ll be damned. You decided to fight.”

Alex and Luke shared a relieved expression as you got even more strong. Together they returned to the garage. Luke was able to press one kiss to your forehead before you flickered once, twice, thrice before you dissipated.

In that hospital room, a beautiful thing occurred. Your eyes opened. Luke swore the birds sang better at the moment.

Recovery was hard. Relearning the little things, you took for granted was frustrating. Lou would hover as if you would disappear and you thought you were going insane. If you were waking up screaming by nightmares of the crash than it was waking confused on dreams that felt like memories.

The small victories helped like when you walked the entire hospital or when you were able to use the toilet and not the bedpan. The best win was being discharged to Lou’s parents and only needing outpatient physical therapy. Six months later, your father was awake and getting better; the loss of your mother still burnt hot and red.

It was on the sixth month anniversary when you walked down an oddly familiar street. Merritt happily trotting on his afternoon walk; Merritt had been an immense help. In your first month of recovery post coma, you met Merritt who would become your service dog.

A sense of déjà vu nudged you as you took in a vintage styled record store you swore you knew before. Continuing on you stop again at a toy story with a dollhouse.

 “My cousin had one…for her unborn niece.” The sentence floated in your mind, but you couldn’t put a conversation.

 “Caspar?” A male voice recalled in a distant memory of a dream a few days ago. You couldn’t think of anyone who had that voice, and absolutely no way had you ever seen that dollhouse before.

“Just coincidence.” You mumbled scratching Merritt’s head as his wet nose nudged your head before you could worry more. You watched people roaming thankful that you could do that, that you survived.

It was the building on the very end that confused you the most. Your eyes scanned the name proudly announcing itself as a tattoo parlour. A gasp left your lips as a vivid memory popped into your head with a boy that matched that voice you had thought of earlier.

“Luke. My name is Luke. Hey! I know this shop!” Luke beamed, stepping back to take in the storefront. In the twenty-five years since he last saw it, the blue faded into a teal, but the door was still the same as it always was.

“You have a tattoo?” You asked, scanning his arms bare in the cut off shirt he wore.You couldn’t see any ink on his skin. Luke couldn’t help the smirk on his faceat the blatant heated gaze.

“No.It was 1994. We just played our biggest gig at the time, and Bobby decided we should get tattoos.” Luke’s mouth twisted at the mention of his former friend, “Of course we were sixteen and Alex just about fainted in the shop. The guy took one look at Reggie and laughed at our fake IDs. Told us to come back in a few years.”

“So, you’re a ’90s kid.” You raised an eyebrow coming to a stop on the edge of the street, pressing the button to cross.

“Technically a ’70s kid. We died in ’95 a few hours before a life-changing gig.” The mood turned sombre as Luke thought back on that one night that life decided to raise both middle fingers at his dreams, “Death by a hot dog.”

You were so thankful for Merritt as he nestled up into a dog version of a hug as you felt the crippling anxiety. He was always there and knew about to help, support dogs don’t get enough credit.

When your eyes opened, it is like a dam broke and suddenly you remembered walking this street with three guys. The conversations and even the garage where one had held you in an incredibly vulnerable moment. Three ghosts that helped you when you needed it but didn’t know.

“Luke.” You breathed seeing a form shimmer in the sun as it flickered into a hazy form. Similar to how you did in the garage before going back to your body, he flashed three times. He solidified on the fourth with a great big grin.

“You can see me.” Luke cried, walking closer as he felt on top of the world when your eyes focused on him. He finally felt that yearning to meet your gaze fade away, “I missed you.”

You followed him to the Molina garage.

“I thought we’d never be able to talk again.” Luke sighed, reaching over, and he physically grabbed your hand, “I don’t know if I can touch you because of your former state or because of Julie.”

“Hm?” You questioned sitting cross legged on the bed.

“When I wasn’t watching over you, I was with Julie and the guys.” Luke went into detail about Caleb and the jolts, “We didn’t cross over because it’s not our unfinished business, but the stamps were destroyed when Julie hugged us. We’re sure that just like our instruments are connected to our souls that Julie did as well.”

Your hand brushed Luke’s cheek taking in the silky feeling of his skin, “I thought I was going crazy. I had these dreams of things I didn’t do in reality. My mind just wasn’t ready to remember the beauty of our connection.”

“This is an interesting little relationship you and I have.” Luke chuckled, thinking on how lucky he was to even know you, “You’re so beautiful.”

“Thank you.” You whispered gratefully to intertwine your fingers with Luke’s hand as well. It was like they were made for each regardless of the circumstances that brought you together, “I’m not ready for anything more than friendship, but I do strong feelings for you.”

“Being dead has an advantage. I can wait for eternity, and for you, I would. Just so you know, I have strong feelings for you as well.” Luke beamed scanning your face, taking in the blemishes from the crash. In the time you hadn’t been aware of him following coming out of the coma, he had become acquainted with your injuries.

When those little victories of weight-bearing, walking one step then two and finally that entire hallway Luke had been there unseen cheering you on. When you ‘graduated’ from the inpatient therapy Alex, Reggie and Luke had been there in silent support.

“Do what you need to do, and I’ll be right here for you.” Luke smiled gently, removing his guitar from the case, “Can I play something?”

You nodded in response as started strumming to a new song he had created in the last handful of months.

“It’s like a storm

 That cuts a path

 It’s breaks your will

 It feels like that

You think you’re lost

 But your not lost on your own

 You’re not alone

I will stand by you

 I will help you through

 When you’ve done all you can do

 If you can’t cope

 I will dry your eyes

 I will fight your fight

 I will hold you tight

 And I won’t let go

It hurts my heart

 To see you cry

 I know it’s dark

 This part of life

 Oh it finds us all (finds us all)

 And we’re too small

 To stop the rain

 Oh but when it rains

The song touched you so intimately as he sang the last few lines softly keeping eye contact with you.

“…Oh I’m gonna hold you

 And I won’t let go

 Won’t let you go

 No I won’t”

You pressed a lingering kiss to his cheek that flushed at the feel of your lips against his skin. His heart fluttered and knew that you were his soulmate and he truly hoped Julie could find someone that could love her like she deserves. Luke’s heart belonged to yours and yours alone and vice versa for you as well.

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[h-styles-babes]

Something Wicked

Hi guys! After a couple years of telling myself that I’m going to write a fic for Halloween, I’ve finally done it! I’m honestly kind of proud of myself, but I don’t think I would’ve gotten it done if not for my wonderful cheerleaders and ego boosters: @thicksniall​ @stylishmuser​ @harrysdodgyankles​ @takemedancingmaine​ @harrytheehottie​ @feminarrie​ @booksncoffee​ @fireawaynjh​ @midnghtcities​ @pagesuponstpages​ @almondharry​

(I’m sure I missed someone, but ya’ll know who you are.)

This ended up being a long longer than I originally intended, so I will be posting it in two parts. Second part will be up tomorrow afternoon.

Thank you so much for reading!

Words: 13k

Warnings: Smut

Leaves crunched beneath three sets of feet as they trudged through the thick layer of fallen foliage that covered the forest floor. A crisp wind blew past the trio, whipping the girl’s hair around her face and ruffling the thick strands on the boys’ heads. The younger one was glad in that moment for the dramatic haircut he’d gotten just the month previous. Nothing was worse than trying to brush out his curly locks out after a windy day.

“Why are we doing this, again?” Harry asked, trying to shove his hands further into the leather jacket he was wearing. He’d much rather have been in a nice comfy jacket, maybe a nice fluffy jumper underneath, but no. Niall had been very adamant about both Harry and their other friend, the only girl in the group, Andie needing to be dressed in dark, “witchy” clothing for this occasion.

Niall was a photography major and needed some fall themed photos for a project. Andie had been his first choice as a model because…well, she already fit the aesthetic so well.

Andie, whose full name was even Andromeda (how much cooler could she get?) dressed year round like the epitome of a modern witch. If an item of clothing wasn’t black, it was blood red or deep purple, and she wore jewelry with symbols of the occult on it, and sometimes cats and bats. But that was because she thought the animals were cute. Whenever anyone ventured to ask why she dressed as she did, she simply shrugged and said, “I look cute.”

And she wasn’t wrong. The dark pallet of her clothes contrasted with the pale smoothness of her skin and flaming red of her hair. Her eyes were the most peculiar part of her, though. While they were most typically a pale blue, nearly grey colour, if you looked at her long enough, her friends would swear they’d turn purple.

So, Andie had been the obvious choice for the female model. Niall had mostly chosen Harry as a favour. Don’t get him wrong, Harry was an extremely attractive man and had the looks for a model, but Niall was especially being a good friend.

For as long as the two had known each other, Harry had harboured a huge crush on Andromeda.

They’d first met their first year of uni in an English class, where they’d been the only two people who’d completed the summer assignment of reading Pride & Prejudice. They’d joked together about the incompetency of their peers, and the rest was history.

Harry had obviously been first taken with her looks, because she had this almost otherworldly quality about her that was hard not to be drawn to upon first glance. But, very quickly, he’d realised her personality was exactly the type to which he responded most. She was quick and witty with enough dry humour to catch him off guard for just a moment before he started laughing. When he’d first brought her around his other mates, like Niall and Louis, they’d initially been a little taken aback by her appearance, but one joke about one of her professors that both Louis and Niall had the semester before, and it was like they’d all been the best of mates for years. She’d been hanging out with them ever since.

It had now been two years, and Harry had still not done anything to make it known that he was interested in her romantically. Everyone except for Andie knew about it, so his other friends had taken to trying to work their magic to get them together in different scenarios that had them spending ample amount of time together. Harry had yet to make a move, though, and he was running out of time. This was their last year at uni and then who knew where they’d all end up?

“Because the wind will do great things for Andie’s hair. And the leaves are pretty. Just stop complainin’ and this’ll go quick,” Niall told him.

Andie chuckled at both Harry’s whinging and Niall’s snappy response. Those two were like and old married couple. Andie found it endearing.

“Oh, perk up, Harry,” she encouraged, shoving her shoulder into his own. The heeled boots she was wearing got them closer to a similar height, so when she looked at him, she didn’t have to look up to meet his eyes. “It’s a beautiful day out, even with the wind. Now, put on your Blue Steel and take some proper photos for our dear Niall.”

Harry grumbled nonsense under his breath until they reached the clearing Andie had suggested to Niall as the setting for his photoshoot. It was a place she liked to come to get away for a little while when the constant happenings of the world for to be too much. It had an energy pulse to it that was calming and cleansing. It was good when she needed a breather.

It was also her prime spot for casting spells that required more than she inherently possessed in her being.

This particular spot in the forest just outside of the bustling center of Surrey was filled with ancient energy that had been infused by witches before her. There was an ancient enchantment placed around it that connected it directly to the energy at the core of the earth, coupled with the ageless magical energy. It was like a safe haven for all witches  of pure intentions and those that needed its protection. Andie had chosen to attend uni here specifically to be close to this magical wonder.

Meeting Harry and Niall had been a happy coincidence. And keeping her status as a certified witch the whole time was nothing short of a miracle.

“This is beautiful, Andie,” Niall exalted, looking around. “It feels so…” Niall took a deep breath and sighed, “good.”

Even mortals could feel the good energy of this place.

This spot in the woods was almost completely cleared of trees and plants, aside from the plush grass. However, sat directly in the middle of the clearing was a large, pitch black rock. It was an obsidian boulder, which was a great medium for harnessing magical energy when more than a witch possessed was needed for a spell. Andie had spent many a full mood with artifacts surrounding the rock, incantations falling naturally from her tongue.

“This is pretty sick, mate,” Niall awed, running his fingers over the smooth surface of the stone. Andie couldn’t be sure if mortals could feel it, but the rock emitted a thrumming flow of energy, like a satisfied cat purring in your lap. She wasn’t even touching it, and the stone was sending a steady vibration through her being. Just standing there was making the magic that flowed through her system surge with the need to be used. This was not one of those visits, however.

“I figured it would be good for the shoot. It’s very autumn-y,” Andie agreed.

Harry joined them and ran his hand over the stone. His eyebrows raised in surprise. “It’s warm,” he marveled. He looked up to the sky. It was completely overcast that day, rain definitely threatening, and it had been since they’d woken that morning. He was confused as to how the stone could be so warm with no obvious source of heat.

“Obsidian is said to have magical properties,” Andie told him, tongue-in-cheek, trying not to laugh at her private inside joke. “Maybe you’re a little magical yourself, Harry.”

Andie watched as Harry’s cheeks tinged pink over her comment. She knew of Harry’s crush on her. In all honesty, she had a crush on him too. And she would have acted on it long ago, but she couldn’t risk Harry’s safety with her magical abilities. By simply being a witch, she was constantly at threat of being found and attacked. Everyone thought the witch trials had ended in the eighteenth century, but they were wrong. There were still the select few that targeted witches because of bizarre religious views, sort of like they prosecuted gays and certain races. And while those witch hunters were few and far between, she couldn’t risk getting closer to anyone than necessary. Even if it was just to prevent him from finding out her secret, it was all for the best.

However, it didn’t mean she would turn down the opportunity to shamelessly and harmlessly flirt with him and get him a little flustered.

Niall quickly called the two to order to get to work. The sun would be setting in about half an hour, and they had to get the whole shoot done in that time. He’d be able to take a set of them while the sun was actively setting, to really capture the essence of autumn, the sun blazing through the gaps in the leaves that were turning colours with the onset of the season. They were going to turn out beautiful.

Andie was trying to help Harry pose in a more causal position against the obsidian rock when an overwhelming sense of dread flooded through her body, nearly drawing her to her knees. She braced herself against the rock and Harry reached out for her, asking if she was alright. Honestly, Andie wasn’t sure, because she’d never felt something so strong and draining before. It stole her breath from her lungs, leaving her gasping. When Harry grasped at her elbows, it was like the contact burned, searing her skin. She looked around them with bleary eyes, sensing there must be something around them that was causing her such a severe reaction, given that she’d never had such an interaction with Harry before.

Just over Harry’s shoulder, she spotted a smoky, dark figure, menacing in just the way it made Andromeda feel, like something was tugging at her heart. It was shrouded in a dark, wispy cloak and the feet and hands that peeked around the edges were skeletal with bits of flesh clinging to it, like a decaying corpse. Andie had never seen one personally before, but she’d recognise the entity anywhere. It was a wraith. There was no telling how long it had been wandering the earth, but it was most likely the result of an immortality spell gone wrong.

Witches were already at a high predisposition to live longer lives than humans—typically around 150 to 175 years—but some sought out to live forever. There were more steadfast methods to achieve this, like drinking from The Fountain of Youth or consuming a tea steeped from the leaves of to Everlasting Tree, but both were rare to come by for the typical witch. There were spells that claimed to cast eternity on the witch who performed it, but if even the slightest mistake was made or the witch did not harness the correct amount of power, a wraith was borne from the offered life force of that witch. These dark entities were doomed to an eternity roaming the earth, seeking out life forces to steal to sate their own need for vitality. Before they administered their final, soul-sucking touch, they’d latch onto their target and slowly but surely submerge them into a crippling depression, priming them for offering over their very soul and all their energy when the wraith was ready.

And this one had just attached itself to Harry’s flourishing life force.

~*~*~*~*~

“Hey, S, I need your help,” Andromeda hushed out into her mobile, Niall and Harry walking a few paces ahead of her, back to Harry’s car. Andie was doing her best to cast the protective spell she’d long ago placed over herself over Harry to keep the wraith at bay. It wasn’t the strongest ward she could conjure up, but it was what she could manage around two mortals without an active incantation or new spell altogether.

“What’s going on?” Sarah asked, sounding like she’d been pulled from sleep, which was entirely possible. When Sarah wasn’t busy being one of the senior witches in their coven, she played in a band that typically took gigs in bars and pubs. She’d probably been out until three in the morning before going straight to her job at the local chemist at five. She typically got off at one in the afternoon and went straight to bed. Given the hour, she was probably only asleep for three or four hours before Andie called. She’d be more apologetic, but this was sort of an emergency.

“Harry’s got a wraith attached to him,” she whispered frantically into the mouthpiece, watching to make sure Harry and Niall weren’t paying attention to her. They were still walking beside each other, laughing about who knew what.

“You’re fuckin’ kidding,” she gasped, suddenly sounding much more awake.

“Obviously not. I’m keepin’ it back with a pretty typical warding spell, but it’s not gonna last. I don’t know enough about this stuff to do anything about it.”

“Keep Harry close for awhile. Do what you can with the warding spells. I’m gonna visit a friend who might be able to help,” Sarah said, already sounding like she was getting dressed. “Maybe ask your mum if she can add some strength tho these wards.”

“No way,” Andie vehemently disagreed. “She figures out I got my friends close enough to magic to attract a wraith and she’ll kill me.”

“Oh, c’mon,” Sarah scoffed. “Anyone can attract a wraith, magical or not. They’re life suckers. They don’t care where the source is coming from. Coulda happened at any time.”

“I took them to the clearing,” Andie told her.

Sarah was silent for a few beats, obviously realising it was no coincidence that Harry had been latched onto by the demon. “Okay, don’t tell her that part.”

Andie choked out a laugh, covering it with a cough so she wouldn’t draw too much attention to herself as Harry held the passenger door open for her once they reached his car. She thanked him and slid into the front seat.

“Alright, I’ll do what I can. Let me know when you figure something out,” she told Sarah. The older woman agreed and they hung up.

Andromeda watched with apprehension as the wraith lingered outside the car, unable to interfere directly with the human world. It just followed alongside the car as it traveled back to the university. The ward that Andromeda cast around the car was keeping it further than it would normally follow, creating a physical barrier that it couldn’t cross. While from what she knew about wraiths, it would linger around Harry for weeks, if not months, before executing its final blow, she was erring on the side of caution. She’d spend every second of everyday with Harry until they figured out how to get rid of this thing if that’s what it would take. She wouldn’t let harm come to her best friend because of her stupid decision to bring them to a magical space. She thought the protections put around the clearing was enough to keep out all the nastiness of the magical world, but apparently the energy emanating from it was enough to attract the desperate ones, too. Her mistake.

Andie was too focused on keeping up the stretch of her spell to notice the silent interaction Harry and Niall were having via the rearview mirror. Niall had initially tickled the back of Harry’s neck between the bars in the headrest to get his attention, and then started making expressions with his eyebrows and mouthing words to his friend in the reflection. Niall was trying to silently convince Harry to ask Andie to hang out further, since it was a Thursday and neither of them had class the following day. It wasn’t unheard of for Harry and Andie to hang out together, separate from the rest of their friends, but Niall needed Harry to make it very apparent that his intentions weren’t just about friendship. They only had this year left to get their shit together, and Niall wanted to see it happen, if not for Harry’s sake, then for his.

Harry eventually rolled his eyes and nodded, relenting to his friend’s insistence. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to hang out alone with Andie, he just didn’t want to make it awkward when she realised he liked her as more than a friend. But he supposed he had to swallow his pride and get on with it at some point, and there was no time like the present. And there was nothing like two years of silent pining to make a guy want to finally make a move.

As they got closer to campus, Harry cleared his throat intentionally to get Andie’s attention, since she seemed pretty spaced out, her eyes focused on some invisible point just beyond the passenger window. She very slowly turned her head away from whatever she was staring at, and only tore her eyes away at the very last second, before looking at Harry. She had an expectant look on her face.

“Was wonderin’ if you and Niall wanted to hang out at mine. Have some beers, watch a movie?” he suggested, already knowing Niall was planning to decline. They obviously hadn’t decided on a concrete plan, but Niall would jump at any opportunity to get those two alone.

“Sorry, mate, can’t,” he declined, genuinely sounding solemn. He honestly probably was, since he wouldn’t get to witness two year’s of handiwork on his and Louis’ part finally coming to fruition. But it was for the greater good. “Need to get to work on editin’. Lots to do before I turn these in.”

Harry nodded. “Right. What about you, A?”

Andromeda had to work to prevent her face from lighting up at his suggestion. The whole ride over, she’d been trying to work up a way to get Harry to keep spending time with her so she could keep her eyes on him while Sarah was of getting whatever information they needed from her mysterious source. However, she hadn’t been anticipating him handing her a reason on a silker platter.

Instead, she gave him a small smile, like she usually would when she was agreeing to hand out with him. “Sounds good. Take me home first, though? I need to get some stuff.”

Her and Harry usually ended up staying at the other’s flat overnight when they did movies, so her request wasn’t odd. While she would get some things to change into, she also needed a few things to complete a protection spell over Harry, so that he’d be safe, even when he wasn’t in her presence. She’d still spend as much time with him as possible until they could figure out how to drive off the wraith, but she couldn’t be with him all day, everyday. They still had classes and jobs to get to and lives to live that made that impossible. She’d cast this more general spell first in order to give him a layer of protection, and then she’d get to work on finding a spell that more specifically warded off dark entities. Maybe her mum would have information on such matters. She was a member of the enclave, so the protection of magical beings and mortals alike was sort of her specialty.

They dropped Niall off first, so that he could get to his editing. Then Harry drove Andie to her flat. She insisted he come up with her, since she didn’t want him left waiting in the car. She had a bunch of things to gather and a cat to feed, after all. Not to mention, the projection of her warding spell only cast so far, and three levels up and two hundred yards away from the car park were a bit out of her range. She was powerful, but no simple spell had that sort of distance, unless it was cast on the other individual.

Harry fed Beelzebub, Andie’s three year old black cat, while she was off in her room, getting a bag together. Bub, as Harry affectionately shortened his name, seemed to have a permanent scowl on his face that sort of begged off anyone new that hadn’t been around him before, but Harry knew better. While Bub’s eyes looked like they were set in a constant furrow, he was a really sweet cat that loved chin scratches and head butted anyone that was at the appropriate height. Which was exactly why he hopped up on the arm of the couch, next to where Harry was sitting, after he’d finished his meal. He dipped his head to bump the top of it against Harry’s chin and promptly began purring. Harry gave Bub a good rub down, starting at his chin, working his way over the top of his head, and down his back, lingering at that place toward his tail that made him arch his back.

By the time Harry had completed the circuit a few times, Andie had rejoined him. She tapped the toe of her boot against his to draw his attention from the cat that was currently impersonating a motorbike on his lap. Andie had never known Beelzebub to purr so loud until Harry had made his first visit to her flat two years previous. He’d promptly sat himself in Harry’s lap and flipped over to expose his belly. He starting purring as soon as Harry scratched his fingers down the vulnerable pudge, and the rest was history.

Bub had been bestowed some magical properties upon his adoption into Andie’s life, as was normal for pets of witches, so he was more sophisticated and intelligent than a typical house cat—which were pretty smart anyway—but that didn’t mean he was above endless scratches and rubs.

“Ready?” Andie asked.

Harry looked from the cat in his lap to his friend stood in front of him. “Why don’t we just bring Bub with us? He’ll be fine at mine for a night.”

“Then who would be here to scare away any potential freaks that try to get into my flat?” Andie argued, sending a wink Bub’s way. He gave a short, succinct mew, as he knew his main duty when Andromeda was gone was to guard all the magical and nonmagical things that resided in her flat. Bub may only be a seven pound cat, but he wasn’t just claws and teeth. Those magical properties had been bestowed upon him for a reason.

“Fine. I just feel bad leavin’ him here by himself,” Harry said. He scooped Beelzebub up from his lap and set him down on the cushion beside him. He rubbed his head against Harry’s thigh as he stood. Andie swore that if the cat wasn’t magically tied to her, he’d have found a permanent home with Harry by now. He loved her, sure, but he had some weird obsession with her friend.

“He’s a tough guy, he’ll be fine,” Andie assured, not for the first time. Every time they went from Andie’s flat to Harry’s, there was always a brief conversation where Harry tried to get Andie to take Bub to his for the night. She wasn’t really sure why Harry didn’t just get his own cat, considering it seemed he wanted one so bad. She had thought about maybe looking into cats for adoption for him on more than one occasion over the years they’d known each other.

The ride back to Harry’s flat was quick. They only lived a few blocks away from each other, which was nice when they were in the need of company at odd hours of the day. She was able to walk to his flat in less than five minutes at any given time of day, and it was a fairly lit path, so it felt okay to walk at night. While she was protected pretty well from all things supernatural, she wasn’t immune to human predators.

Harry was in the process of getting something together for them to eat when Sarah called Andie back. She walked back into Harry’s room, where she knew she could get a bit of privacy, before pressing the green button.

“What’d you find out?” she asked, getting straight to the point. Time was of the essence with this thing, and they didn’t have any to waste.

“I just got into contact with my lady. She doesn’t know anything off the top of her head, but she’s looking.”

“Looking? Sarah, I need answers. I can feel this thing lurking. I got stuff to place his own warding spell on him, but it’s not gonna hold it back long.”

“Well, it’s a good thing he’s got one of the world’s most powerful witches with him,” Sarah told her firmly. “I trust you can keep ahold of this thing. Talk to your mum. And I’ll get to you as soon as my source gets back to me. She’s good, Andie, but there’s barely any literature on wraiths. We’re doing what we can.”

Andie groaned and leaned her head against the door frame of Harry’s room. “I know. I’m sorry. It’s just…he’s my best mate.”

“And you’re in love with him, I get it,” Sarah assured.

“Wait, what?” Andie asked, head shooting up from her slouched position. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, c’mon, Andromeda, don’t play dumb.”

Andie sighed, lightly banging her head against the doorjamb. “Doesn’t matter. Nothing can happen. But I need him safe.”

Sarah was silent for a few moments on the other end of the line. Finally she said, “He will be. Give me a couple days.”

~*~*~*~*~

When Harry fell asleep that night, Andie went about very quietly setting up all the things she needed to perform her warding spell. Considering Harry was one of the heaviest sleepers she’d ever met—he’d slept through not one, but three fire alarms in their dorm building their first year of uni—, she didn’t bother with a silencing charm for the a spell that wasn’t going to take her longer than ten minutes to perform.

She carefully placed her four stones at the compass points of Harry’s living room, creating a magical energy barrier around the flat and its resident. She then unfolded a small tapestry with the symbol of the three goddesses, the ultimate symbol of protection in her family line. Anyone bestowed with a protective ward by a person of her lineage on this symbol was set against anything that could try to intrude upon their lives. The wraith was a different sort of entity, of course, but it would keep it at bay as long as Andromeda kept up the protection. It wasn’t a fail-safe, but it would have to do until they got a better answer.

Andie set the Harry’s token in the center of the middle moon on the tapestry. She’d been a bit of a creep and found Harry’s hair brush in the bathroom and collected his hair off of it. She supposed she could have found his pair of reading glasses and used those, but there was always a chance that a token that didn’t contain the subject’s DNA could render the spell void, and that was a chance she wasn’t willing to take. So she made sure his little clump of gathered hair was within the center moon before stepping back from her tapestry.

She waved her hand in a sweeping motion over the room, lighting all the ritual candles she’d placed in the room, lighting it in an eery haze. She closed her eyes against the sudden onslaught of energy she felt surge through her body, taking a deep breath to properly channel it. Her body knew when some more powerful magic was about to be used and it rushed through her veins, lighting them on fire in a way that was supremely pleasant. If she had to compare it to anything a mortal would experience, it would be like that feeling right before an orgasm, where every inch of your body was on edge, waiting for that one last thing that finally pushed you over. She could see why lesser witches could get addicted to the act of using magic like this.

Andie rubbed her fingers into her palms, that sensation sparking, and then held them both over the tapestry she’d placed on the floor. With one last deep breath, she began muttering the warding incantation under her breath. It was a slew of Latin words she knew by heart. It was one of the first spells a young witch learned, since it was relatively simple, but powerful when done correctly. She’d memorised the words by the time she was eight, and she was glad to not have to cart around a spell book everywhere she went.

She was only into her second line of incantation when there was a crashing sound from the hallway. She gasped and opened her eyes, her eyes automatically locking on Harry’s wide, shocked ones. Andie could’ve sworn in that moment that they both were not breathing. Harry was frozen in shock but Andie was frozen with the fear of being caught. She was still composed enough to take in the fact that Harry was in nothing but a pair of boxers and an entirely too large jumper that nearly hung off his shoulder and covered down the tips of his fingers. Such a contrast to the tight jeans and leather jacket he’d been wearing earlier in the day. Her heart would have leaped at the sight of him if she wasn’t completely hung up on the fact that her biggest secret had just been revealed to her best friend.

“What the fuck?” Harry finally uttered.

“Shit,” she spat. With a dismissive wave of her hand, the candles all blew out and the lights overhead turned on, bathing the room in a more normal light.

“What the fuck?” he asked again, louder this time, more emotion laced in his voice.

“Harry, I can explain,” she told him, reaching her hand out in a calming motion.

He stumbled back into a small cabinet he had in the middle of his hall. “Jesus. Your eyes were…”

“Purple, I know,” she appeased, trying her best to use a soothing voice. She knew he was more than a little surprised and possibly equal amounts of freaked out, and she didn’t want to exasperate it. She never wanted for him to find out she was a witch, especially like this, right in the middle of a spell. Granted, it was a spell for his protection, and one of the simpler setups that could be going on in his flat, but it was still a shock to mortals witnessing it for the first time.

“What…”

“Harry, why don’t you sit down? Lemme finish this, and then we’ll talk.” At this point, his protection was more important than whatever potential shock he was in. While her heart was sort of breaking from the concerned look on his face, she needed to do this.

Harry stumbled into the first chair in his living room, sort of sliding himself into it over the arm, never taking his eyes off of her. “What is…this, exactly?”

With a snap, the artificial overhead lights went out again, and a wave of the hand brought the candles back up to full flame. “A protective ward. A simple spell, but you can’t interrupt me, Harry.”

Harry nodded his head in a sort of mindless, perpetual motion, muttering some sort of affirmations to himself under his breath. Andie was sure he was trying to convince himself this was all normal, but she didn’t really have time to fret over him in that moment. She had more important business to complete.

Andie raised her hands out, palm down, over the center of her tapestry again, and she began reciting the incantation quickly under her breath. Harry watched as the flames in the candles grew brighter and larger as her chanting went on, admittedly getting concerned when they started flickering violently, like there was a strong gust of wind in the room. Adversely, it felt like all the air had been sucked out of the atmosphere, a ringing taking up residence in his ears. Andie’s eyes were darting back and forth quickly under her lids, lashes fluttering. Sparks of electricity seemed to be erupting from the ends of her fingers, creating a crackling, static sensation in the room. Harry felt like his skin was tingling. He was in too much of a daze to really be concerned about anything, though. His best friend was currently doing what was arguably magic in his living room.

Andie’s volume of muttering rose until she was speaking at regular volume, and the light of the flames seemed to brighten to almost that of natural daylight. Harry sunk himself deeper into the cushion of the chair he’d claimed as the spell seemed to be coming to a head. The energy surged in the room, making the hairs on Harry’s body stand on end. A cold chill flashed down his spine as her chanting stopped and Andie’s eyes flashed open to meet his just before the candles all blew out at once. There was no mistaking it. Her eyes had been glowing a bright purple in that second before everything went dark.

~*~*~*~*~

Harry had remained silent and unmoving the entire time Andie had been cleaning up from her spell. She could have just magically whisked everything into her bag, but she figured one magical happening was enough for the night.

She had gotten him a glass of water and placed it into his amazingly steady hands. Then she’d helped him from his seat and walked with him to his bedroom. He seemed to still be in shock, so she’d laid him down in his bed, back where he’d rumpled the sheets from earlier, and turned to leave. She could understand his despondency, so she was going to give him the night to sleep it off, and if in the morning he wanted her to piss off, she’d leave. But for now, she would stick by him, just in case.

“Wait,” Harry called, his hand grabbing her wrist as she’d turned to walk out of his room.

Andromeda looked down to his hand that was burning into her skin, up his arm and to his face, his head already resting on the pillow. He’d lost that vacant look in his eyes and he was now looking at her like he always had: with a little bit of adoration and a lot of honest interest. The bright green of his eyes scanned over her face, most likely looking for something that would make her look like the monster she was sure he thought she was after everything he’d witnessed. She never wanted Harry to think she was anything else but just herself, but she wouldn’t blame him if he told her to leave and never come back. It wasn’t easy to deal with and accept that your best friend from the last couple years was a witch. Not even Harry could feasibly be that understanding.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t hate you,” he said bluntly.

Andie’s eyebrows furrowed. “How did you…”

“I can see it on your face,” he shrugged. “And I know you. I don’t hate you. I’m shocked as fuck, but I’m okay. We’re okay.”

Andromeda let her eyes roam over his face for several moments, taking in his smooth features. He looked okay, as far as external emotions went, and he was verbally telling her that he was okay. She supposed she had no choice but to believe him. He still had to know why he had walked in on her doing magic in his living room, though. “I’m just trying to protect you,” she whispered.

“From what?” Harry asked. His thumb was now gently gliding over Andie’s wrist where his hand was still clasped.

“It’s a long story.”

“I’ve got time.”

Andie could tell from the look of determination in his eyes that she wasn’t going to get out of this one. When Harry had his heart set on something, it was very hard to get him off the scent.

With a sigh, she gently shook off Harry’s grip and bent down to take off her socks and then her jeans. She should have been more apprehensive about slipping into Harry’s bed without her trousers on, but, honestly, it was a semi-regular occurrence when they had sleepovers. She wasn’t willing to sacrifice her comfort for some weird perception of modesty.

She slid under the covers Harry was holding up, nestling in on the pillow his own head was occupying. He dropped the blankets back over her, and she pulled it up to just under her chin. She felt Harry’s warm feet slide past her own, and she didn’t hesitate to tuck her toes between his calfs. For all the energy constantly flowing through her body, her toes were always frozen. And Harry was always hot. It was a no-brainer.

“Where should I start?”

It took Andie nearly an hour to get through her explanation to Harry, the whole time silently thanking him for remaining quiet and holding off to ask all the questions she could see swimming in his eyes. When she finally sighed after she finished, he surprised her by not asking all those questions she was sure he had been holding back the whole time. Instead, he just slung an arm around her waist, pulled her closer as he let his eyes fall shut, and whispered a quiet thanks. Andie was shocked by his behavior, but not enough to let it prevent her from swiftly falling asleep, comfortably resting in his arms.

~*~*~*~*~

“So the whole witch trials thing in America?”

“I mean, it’s possible someone was actually a witch, but as far as any witch history can tell, they were just victims of a crazy strict Christian society that saw anything that was “other” as bad and dubbed it as witchcraft. There’s a chance someone was practicing hoodoo or something similar, but we don’t think there were any legitimate witches there.”

“And hoodoo is different from witchcraft?”

Andie took a sip from her latte before answering. “They’re both magic, technically, but they garner their power from different sources. Hoodoo is mostly based in the spiritual, sort of like a religion. There’s a lot of tie to the afterlife and the power passed beings can offer. Whereas witchcraft is based on the existing energy in the earth and its creations. Every living being on earth has the ability to harness this energy, witches were just bred inadvertently to have better control. When I cast spells, I can feel it in my every cell.”

Harry nodded, looking thoughtful as he peered down into the hot chocolate he’d ordered. “I sort of noticed that last night. I could physically feel it run through my body when you’d completed the spell.”

Andie hummed. “It’s not uncommon for the recipient of a spell, especially protective ones, to experience an energy transfer upon completion of the ritual. In a nutshell, I’ve connected my magical energy to you in order to keep you protected from any sort of magical harm. As best as I can anyway. Some magical and supernatural entities have a bit more power than I can put into a basic warding spell.”

“And I’m reckoning wraiths are one of those entities.”

Harry and Andie locked eyes, and she was reluctant to nod her confirmation.

The duo had stayed up until nearly three in the morning, Andromeda best explaining what she could about her being a witch and why it was that she was taking extra steps to put a protective ward around Harry. He’d accepted it easily enough, but she was pretty sure it was just because he was starting to drift off into sleep.

When they’d woken that morning, she was expecting to be in bed alone, Harry off somewhere freaking out over everything that had happened in the wee hours of the morning. Instead, she’d opened her eyes and immediately been confronted with Harry’s own green ones, seeming nearly translucent in the morning light steaming through his window. Their legs were tangled together, so tightly that Andie wasn’t really sure who's limbs were who’s. Their noses were nearly touching, both their heads resting on one pillow despite Harry having a pretty spacious queen bed. And while they’d woken up plenty of times snuggled together after a sleep over, they’d never woken up that close.

If Harry was startled by it, it didn’t show. He’d simply smiled at her before placing a soft kiss on her nose. He’d suggested heading to the cafe around the block for breakfast, and here they were, only twenty minutes later.

Andie wasn’t really sure what to make of it, but she was going to act like it was any other day if that was the way Harry wanted to play it.

“Unfortunately.”

“What about them is so special?” Harry wondered, swirling his mug, most likely to mix up some of the chocolate that had settled at the bottom.

“Wraiths are created when dark magic goes wrong. Usually a resurrection ritual. If it’s performed incorrectly or the witch isn’t channeling enough energy from the right sources, something goes haywire, and the result is a manifestation of all that, since it can’t be channeled to whatever resurrection the witch was trying to perform.”

“There’s a difference in magic types?” Harry asked, his brows puckering in confusion. Andie would think it was adorable if they weren’t in the middle of a very serious conversation.

Who was she kidding? She thought it was adorable regardless of the topic.

“Of course. I like to think of magic like the internet.” Andie grabbed a napkin from the dispenser at the end of the table and looked for a pen in her purse. Coming up empty, she glanced at Harry and pressed a finger to her lips, telling him to keep quiet about what she was about to do. She rubbed her fingers together before pressing the tip of her pointer finger to the napkin. It started writing like a pen onto the paper, and Harry emitted a startled gasp before quieting down.

Andie drew out a triangle and then a line through the top of the shape, imitating an iceberg in water.

“The tip is the surface magic. It’s about ten percent of the entire magical ability of the universe.” She drew an arrow to the small section at the top and labeled it. “Hypothetically speaking, anyone can access this part of magic if they really wanted to and dedicated their time to learning how. But all witches can harness this magic pretty effortlessly. Some spells are a little harder than others, but it should be no real strain on a witch.”

She drew a dotted line about halfway through the rest of the triangle that was under the waterline she’d drawn. She made another label for the center portion. “This is what we’ll call advanced magic. This can only be accessed with dedication and an ability to harness energy from other sources, like the earth and crystals and natural phenomena. New moon, blood moon, eclipses, all that. It’s a bit more of a stretch for most witches, but it can be achieved with a bit of hard work. Witches with an inherently stronger bloodline can pretty easily access this portion.”

Andie finally circled the lowest portion. “And this is dark magic. It’s all the stuff that betrays the laws of nature. Necromancy, possession, time travel, teleportation. When a witch fucks it up somehow, bad things can happen. Usually to the witch trying to perform the ritual, but sometimes to nature itself. Thus, wraiths are created.”

“And now I’ve got the result of botched dark magic following me around?” Andie nodded. “Love that for myself.”

Andie couldn’t help the snort of laughter that escaped. Harry wasn’t one to commonly use popular slang or phrases, so when he did, it was startlingly hilarious.

“While I’m glad you can joke about it, it’s not something to take lightly. I’m workin’ on getting some information about how to get rid of it. Either just disconnecting it from you or putting it back in whatever hell hole it came from.”

“Considerin’ that thing was made from dark magic, sounds like gettin’ rid of it is gonna be hard,” Harry sighed, pushing his mug away from him.

Andie paused. How was she going to tell her best friend that she was part of the most pure witch bloodline in the world? That her mother was pretty much the strongest witch that had ever lived? That she herself was bound for that same tier once she hit her twenty-fifth birthday? It wasn’t exactly something you just drop on an unsuspecting mortal. Though, she supposed you didn’t just tell them you were a witch, either. Given the extenuating circumstances, maybe it wasn’t the most shocking thing he’d heard that day. And hopefully all the revelations wouldn’t get her in trouble with her mum or the council. She had an obligation to protect the mortal world from any magical threat, and Harry was her best friend.

“Can we go back to mine?” Andie suggested. She grabbed the napkin she’d drawn on and crumpled it up in her fist before shoving it in her pocket. No need for any curious waitress to come along and see that.

“Sure. Wanna go get my car?” Harry asked.

Andie shook her head. “No, follow me.”

“Andie, your flat is a ten minute drive. That’s nearly an hour walk.”

“Who said anything about walking?”

“Please tell me you’ve got a broom.”

Andie laughed and shook her head, leading him out the doors and into a deserted alley.

~*~*~*~*~

“I thought you said teleportation was dark magic.”

“There’s ways around most of the magical no-no’s,” Andie shrugged, dropping her bag by her front door. “Conjuring a portal is not technically teleportation. It requires an already established ending point. So, this mirror, for example.” She pointed at the mirror right by the front door of her flat that they’d just stepped through. “I’ve bewitched it to act as a portal. I can  arrive to it from any given location, and I can use it to access other portals. But I can’t just decide in the middle of my day to pop into Paris for an afternoon trip. Unless I knew a specific portal location.”

Harry gazed at the mirror for a few moments, probably trying to see if there was anything physically out of the ordinary from any other vertical mirror he’d ever seen. He eventually gave a short nod and said, “Neat.”

Andie started the kettle on the stove as she regaled to Harry the importance of her family line.

“My family can be traced back to, like…the inception of witches,” she told him. “And there’s only three families that can say that. So, those three families have always made up the council, as well as elected witches from prominent covens.”

“You have a council?” Harry asked, tucking himself beside her as she prepared their teas. Her kitchen wasn’t very big, so it wasn’t difficult to be in each other’s space, but this was intentional. He’d pressed himself into the sliver of space between where she stood and the counter, not seeming to have any care that her elbow was brushing against him with every move that she made.

“Witches need governing bodies, Harry,” she said pointedly. “Why do you think dark magic is considered taboo? That wasn’t just something every witch decided on independently. In the early nineteenth century, it was voted on by the council that the usage of dark magic is punishable by death, if that witch hadn’t killed themselves in the process.”

“This sounds a lot like that season of American Horror Story,” he commented.

Andie smirked. Harry and her had watched all the seasons together on Netflix the previous summer.

“Sort of,” she shrugged. “We have rules and laws and our own judicial system, essentially. But the whole competition for Supreme thing and those weird tests aren’t true.”

“So no, like, Queen Witch, then?”

Andie bobbled her head around, a mix between and nod and a shake. “Not necessarily. Some witches are more powerful than others, based on bloodline. But that doesn’t give them superiority over other witches.”

“And I’m guessin’ you’re in one of those bloodlines.”

She glanced over at him while pouring the water in their mugs, trying to gauge his reaction. His face was almost annoyingly still, betraying no real emotion beside his genuine interest. There was no telling what he was really thinking. Considering all that he’d been made privy to, Andie reckoned this stuff was easy.

“Yeah. My mum is the oldest living female of the succession, so she’s considered the most powerful. And as her daughter, I’m second in line.”

“Do men ever possess that title?”

She shook her head. “No. Not unless there are no other females. So like, if I had a brother, and both my mum and I died, he’d acquire that power.”

“What if you never have kids? What happens then?”

“My mum has two younger sisters. The line would fall to her and her children.”

“So, it’s kinda a royal family situation?”

“Pretty much. Except female-oriented.”

“Why is that? Do you know?”

Andie handed off his tea, prepared just the way he liked it, with a dash of milk and one spoonful of sugar. Andie preferred hers plain.

“It’s got to do with females being able to bear children, and their inherent connection with the earth because of it.”

Harry was quiet for a few moments, seeming to finally take a moment to think things over. Andie ushered him into her living room, where Beelzebub was napping contently on the arm of her couch. Darn thing hadn’t even stirred when Andie and Harry had stepped into the room, simply opening one eye to see who it was. When he’d deemed them nonthreatening, he’d closed it and went back to sleep.

After nearly five whole minutes of silence, Harry spoke up.

“Is this all to say that if anyone can get this fuckin’ thing off my back, it’s you?”

Andie paused before giving him a reluctant nod. “Yep.”

He was quiet again, staring pensively into his tea, which he’d only taken a couple tentative sips out of. Suddenly, but with a sureness Andie was almost surprised to see out of him, Harry reached his hand out and grabbed onto the one she had resting in her lap. He slotted their fingers together and gave it a brief, tight squeeze before looking up at her.

“I’m glad it’s you.”

~*~*~*~*~

Until Andie got some answers or leads, she insisted that Harry stay with her in her flat when he wasn’t in class or at work. She was hoping that the ward she’d put up around him, as well as the protections she’d put up around her flat were enough to keep the wraith far enough away to let Harry carry on like normal. It seemed to be working, as she’d never seen the thing more than one hundred yards away at any given time. And when Harry couldn’t be in the protection of her home or in her presence, she sent Bub with him to keep an eye on him and alert her if anything was wrong. Luckily, it’d been a week and nothing tragic or harrowing had happened as of yet. She knew she couldn’t become comfortable in the mundane, but she was going to enjoy it while it lasted.

She’d received a call from Sarah a few days prior, letting her know that she’d contacted someone who might have some insight, and she was just waiting for them to be available to come to the UK. The witch was apparently a pretty prominent facet in a large American coven, so she had her hands full, but she was trying to arrange things to help Andromeda. She was glad to hear that something had panned out, but it seemed like now it was a waiting game.

However, for as anxious as Sia was about getting answers and keeping Harry safe until that time, she was actually really enjoying being with Harry so often. While they hung out regularly before, now it was amplified. They were living together, for all intents and purposes. When she got home from class, Harry was there, revising at the kitchen table. When she got hungry, Harry helped her prepare food or called into a local restaurant to order take out. When she woke up in the morning, it was to the sound of Harry singing in the shower—beautifully, she might add. It was really unfair how amazing Harry was at pretty much everything he did.

Spending all this time together was really playing with Andie’s emotions, though.

Since she didn’t have an extra bedroom, Andie and Harry shared a bed each night, so they fell asleep next to each other, and if neither of them had an early class, they woke up together. Harry was usually awake first, so Andie would wake to his leg brushing against hers and the back of his fingers brushing her hair away from her face. And the way he would look at her when he woke her like that…she couldn’t describe it. She wasn’t sure she wanted to describe it. She was thinking too far into it would leave her with a perpetual migraine.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want Harry to have the feelings she knew he was harboring. She harbored them herself, admittedly. All his little touches and the way his eyes would linger on her when she came or went from any room would make the butterflies in her stomach take manic flight. She loved every second of his attention, but she kept trying to convince herself that nothing could come of it. While it wasn’t uncommon that witches had relationships with mortals, she didn’t want to put Harry at more risk than she already had with the whole wraith situation. With the type of power that Andie possessed, dark forces liked to follow her around. It was only natural that they would sense the weakness of a mortal and latch onto him. She didn’t want that. She had to protect him. Partially because she had a moral obligation but mostly because she loved him.

Her love for Harry had never been more apparent and strong than the last week they’d been in close contact nearly 24/7. And there was no denying that she’d been in love with him for nearly as long as she’d known him. She couldn’t even lie to herself anymore, let alone her friends, both mortal and witch. Sarah never let her forget it, and while they were keeping from Niall that they were currently staying together, he seemed to be picking up on it whenever all three of them were together. Andie could see the knowing look in his eye any time Andie would laugh at one of Harry’s stupid jokes and place a hand on his arm, or when she would reach over and wipe something from his face with no hesitation. She steadfastly avoided Niall’s gaze when she knew he was giving her a pointed look. She didn’t want to give anything away in her guilty look.

“What are you thinkin’ so hard about?”

Andromeda gasped and gave a little yelp, nearly jumping a mile in the air. She whirled around from her spot at the stove where she was browning some ground beaf in order to make some spaghetti for dinner. She slapped at Sarah’s arms a few times in retaliation, groaning out her frustration with her friend just popping in unannounced and scaring the shit out of her.

“Jesus Christ, S! Make some fuckin’ noise, will ya? Gave me a fuckin’ heart attack.”

“Sorry, figured you’d heard me,” she shrugged, peering over Andie’s shoulder to see what she had going on the stove. “Wasn’t tryin’ to be quiet.”

“I wasn’t paying attention, and I sent Bub out with Harry.”

“That’s what I’m here about,” she said. “Why are you makin’ this by hand?” she added as an afterthought.

“Just because I can use magic, doesn’t mean I should,” Andie huffed, rolling her eyes. “Besides, I like cooking. Anyway, what have you got?”

“Got word from my source,” Sarah said, watching as Andie filled up a pot of water to put on to boil. “Said she’ll be here by Wednesday. Wants to make sure your portal will zap her in from America.”

“There’s no restriction on distance, as long as I accept the transportation request. Have her send it over, and I’ll get it done.”

“I’ll let her know.”

“Does she have concrete answers?”

Sarah was silent for more than a few beats, so Andie looked to her after she’d lit the burner under the water. She was chewing on the inside of her cheek, her ultimate tell for her anxiety.

“What is it?” Andie asked, dread filling her stomach.

“She has answers, but there’s no guarantee that it’ll work,” Sarah said hesitantly. Andie was working extra hard on not letting her sinking emotions get the better of her. She didn’t have time to freak out. “There’s no official records of successful wraith banishments.”

“Just because they’re not recorded doesn’t mean they didn’t happen.”

“Exactly,” Sarah agreed with a succinct nod. “My source claims to have witnessed one, and she has a text from the early seventeenth century that outlines a ritual that is supposed to do the job. I haven’t seen what it entails, but it’s worth a shot.”

Andie blew up her cheeks and let out the breath between pursed lips. She turned off the burner for the meat before looking back to Sarah. She nodded.

“Okay. Just let me know what time on Wednesday. I have class at eleven. I’ll skip if I have to. I’m sure Harry would, too.”

Sarah agreed just as the front door of Andie’s flat opened, Harry sort of stumbling in the door with his book bag and a few bags of groceries, Bub sneaking in behind him just before he closed the door. He hung his keys on the hooks near the portal/mirror and toed off his shoes.

“Hey, I know you’re makin’ spaghetti tonight, so I picked up some French bread and a couple bottles of wine. And I also got stuff to make chicken parmesan tomorrow. Oh, and some more coffee creamer. I used the last of it this morning.”

Harry didn’t realise there was someone else in the kitchen until he walked through the doorway, stopping short when he saw Sarah standing beside Andie. They’d never met before, as Andie had always tried her hardest to keep her witch friends and coven away from her mortal friends. It was easier to keep track of conversations that way, and it prevented any slip-ups beyond Andie’s control. While she trusted her coven with her life, she couldn’t control what came out of their mouths, and she couldn’t risk that around her mortal friends.

“Hey,” Harry greeted, eyes glancing between Andie and Sarah, obviously a bit confused.

“Harry, this is my friend, Sarah. Sarah, Harry,” Andie quickly introduced.

Harry and Sarah exchanged pleasantries, and Andie could see that Harry quickly realised that Sarah was also a witch, not just some random friend she’d never introduced or brought around.

“You staying for dinner?” Andie asked Sarah as Harry unloaded the groceries he’d brought home.

“Nah, just wanted to pop in and update you on what was goin’ on,” Sarah declined. “If I don’t see you before, I’ll see you on Wednesday.”

Andie bid her friend farewell and watched as she disappeared through the portal.

“Is she in the same coven as you?” Harry asked? He flitted around the kitchen to get the bread-cutting knife and a cutting board as he waited for her to answer.

“Yeah, she’s a couple years older than us, but we’ve always gotten along really well. And she’s travelled a lot, so she’s got a lot of connections. She’s our go-to when we need contacts.”

“She the one that’s trying to get ahold of someone to help with the wraith thing?”

Andie added the spaghetti to the boiling water as she nodded. “That’s what she was here about. The other witch will be here Wednesday. Hopefully, we’ll have some concrete answers soon.” She didn’t want to tell him about the lack of substantial evidence that any of it would work. No need to stress him out when he’d been handling all of it so well up to that point.

“Well, I can afford to miss a couple classes if I need to,” he assured.

“I figured. I’ll let you know when I get a better idea of when she’ll be here.”

The changed the conversation after that, talking about their days as they finished up dinner. Harry helped her plate the food and take it to the table before pouring two glasses of wine. Harry asked if they could play some music, so Andie asked him what album he wanted. They agreed on the Rumours album, and with a wave of her hand, the record player set itself up and started playing the album softly through the speakers around her telly.

Harry asked her about the abilities she had that weren’t related to specific spells and incantations. She explained that it came with the “powerful bloodline” thing, as not all witches had the sort of telekinetic abilities she did. It could be learned, sure, but it would never be like the natural ability Andie and her family had.

By the time they finished dinner, they’d finished the bottle of wine Harry had opened before they sat down. While Andie was not even close to drunk, she was pleasantly buzzy, and her cheeks hurt from smiling so much at Harry’s stupid jokes and wild stories about people he came into contact with at his job at the record store near campus.

Andie was still chuckling at Harry’s last joke when she took their plates to the sink to rinse them off and load the dishwasher. Harry was quiet, and Andie figured he was going to turn off the record player or something, so she startled when she felt hands on her waist, not gripping, just gently resting.

“I’ll do the dishes since you cooked,” Harry offered, his voice quiet, nearly drowned out by the music that still played in the living room.

“No, it’s fine,” Andie denied. “It’s like three dishes, and I’m nearly done.”

“Then just let me finish.”

Andie chuckled again, turning off the faucet. “Harry, really.” She turned to look at him, and the sound that was in her mouth died when she saw the look on his face.

Harry didn’t say anything, either. His eyes flit over her face, probably taking in the slight widening of her eyes at her surprise and the way her lips were gently parted from the words fading from her lips when she’d turned around. His left hand left her waist and reached up to push her hair back from her face, carefully tucking it behind her ear. He let his fingers linger, tracing over her jaw.

The buzz that had been lingering in her veins quickly dissipated in favor of the static Harry’s fingers were zapping into her skin. Andie gasped lightly as his index caressed her bottom lip.

“So fuckin’ beautiful,” he whispered.

Harry stepped closer to her, pushing the small of her back into the edge of the sink and placing his thigh between both of hers.

Andie thought if Harry ever gathered the courage to kiss her or start anything with her, she would deny him. In the nicest way possible, of course, because Harry was a sweet baby angel who was too pure for this world, but it would still have to happen. She didn’t want to get him tangled up with anything that could be dangerous for him.

But that was the exact opposite of what she was doing now that the situation had actually presented itself. When Harry leaned down and barely brushed his lips against hers, she was the one who leaned forward and pressed harder, effectively pulling them both into a kiss that had both of their hearts racing. Andie was the one to wind her arms around his neck and reach up onto her toes so Harry wouldn’t have to lean down so far. She was the one that sifted her fingers through the cute little curls at the back of his neck and pull him tighter into her. She was the first one to dart her tongue out, swiping lithely at his bottom lip, and gave a little satisfied moan when he opened to her, his tongue meeting with her own.

Though she wasn’t sure who it was that led them down the hallway to her bedroom, their mouths still pressed firmly together. She did know, however, that Harry was the one that closed her bedroom door, shadowing them in darkness. Andie didn’t hesitate to swipe her hand and light the candles that were scattered around her room.

With a light shove, Andie plopped on her bum to the bed. She scooted back further into the center, watching as Harry stood at the edge, watching her closely. Andie was sure she’d never seen Harry so serious and still, save for the light heaving of his chest.

“You sure?” Harry asked, his voice nearly a whole octave deeper than it usually was, a slight growl to it.

Andie nodded.

Harry proceeded to provide Andie with the most scintillating strip tease she’d ever had the pleasure of witnessing. While that probably wasn’t his intention, watching as he shucked his cosy jumper to reveal a plain white t-shirt underneath, then watching him peel that off to reveal every inch of his toned stomach and broad chest, along with all the dark ink that was scattered over his smooth skin was the sexiest thing she’d ever seen.

He paused after removing his shoes and socks, his hands poised at the fly of his jeans. He looked up at Andie from under his lashes, looking her over from head to toe.

“You gonna join me? Or am I gonna be naked on my own?”

Andie swallowed hard, a little surprised and a lot aroused by the commanding tone in Harry’s voice. She quickly reached to take pull her shirt over her head and then wiggle off the skirt she was wearing, leaving her in her knickers and the thigh-high socks. When Andie reached around to undo her bra, Harry finally un buttoned his jeans and pulled them down with his boxers, finally letting Andie see all of him. When she saw his cock, standing stiff and proud from between his hips, she gasped.

“Shit,” she muttered under her breath, but not quiet enough to prevent Harry from hearing. He was big—a lot bigger than any other man she’d ever been with, and while it was a bit daunting, it only served to excite her more.

Harry smirked at her before kneeling on the bed, making his way between Andie’s legs. He ran his hands from her ankles, over the soft material of her stalkings, up to her exposed skin of her upper thighs and hips, before hooking his fingers into the lacy material of her panties. He looked up at her as he leaned down and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to her inner thigh.

He made quick work of pulling her panties off and tossed them off the side of the bed. Andie went to peel her socks off, but Harry caught her hands.

“Leave ‘em on.”

Andie nodded and pulled her hands away, leaning back into the pillows that were propped up on her headboard. Harry followed her, resting his hips against hers and using his elbows beside her head to hover over her. He leaned down and captured her lips in a kiss, swiping his tongue once along her lips before trailing his own across her jaw and down her neck, placing a teasing bite at the junction between her shoulder and her neck. Goosebumps rose along her arms.

She ran her hands down Harry’s back, gently gliding over the muscles as they tensed and relaxed with his movements. He skimmed his lips along her collarbone and down the center of her chest, taking a detour to her left breast, and then her right, laving his tongue and teeth over her erect nipples, pulling little mewls and moans from her mouth. He drug licking kisses down her stomach, stopping briefly to place a kiss just below her navel, but continuing his pace down to her mound.

He pressed a light peck to the hood of her clit before sliding his tongue out to lap at her folds. He moaned as her tangy flavour burst across his tastebuds. She was already wet, despite them not doing much but kissing and lightly touching. He couldn’t wait to get more of her in his mouth.

With that little taste, he couldn’t stop himself from completely covering her with his mouth. Andie shivered as he darted his tongue into her entrance, gathering her arousal before drawing the tip up and flicking lightly at her bud. Andie shot her hands into his hair, pressing his head closer to her center. Harry took the hint and took a broader lick at her clit before pursing his lips around it, giving it a cursory suck. Andie moaned loud, dropping her head back into the pillows. Her fingers tugged at Harry’s curls now, hips thrusting up to meet his pulsing sucks. He wound his arms around her thighs, keeping her close to him as he buried his face into her sweet center. He couldn’t withhold his own moans as more of her arousal flooded into his mouth, her hole fluttering and clenching around nothing. He swapped his mouth for three of his fingers, rubbing swiftly at her clit as he pushed his tongue into her entrance.

Andie took a shuddering breath. She was completely overwhelmed with his attention, on the verge of falling over the edge. His grip on her thighs were preventing her from rubbing more vigorously against his mouth and fingers. She needed more though.

“Harry, please,” she gasped. “Need more.”

He reluctantly pulled his mouth away from her, licking his lips. “What do you need, love?”

Andie didn’t realise when the words, “Choke me,” came out of her mouth. She didn’t have time to process it and be embarrassed, though. Harry’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, before he leaned back down to wrap his lips back around her clit. The fingers that were previously rubbing at it moved to enter her, two sliding in easily with how wet she was for him.

She let her head drop back, reveling in the new sensation of Harry’s fingers rubbing at the soft spongy spot inside her. She hummed when his free hand trailed from it’s place around her thigh, up her stomach and chest, and eventually around her throat. His fingers deftly found each of her veins running up her neck, applying light pressure. That mixed with the weight of his palm resting against the center of her throat was exactly what she needed to finally succumb to her pleasure.

Harry moaned against her center as her walls clenched against his fingers and her wetness coated his chin and palm. He kept rubbing and sucking her through it, Andie eventually having to shove him away by the crown of his head.

He crawled up her body, pressing sporadic kisses as she came down from her high. Her legs bent up to cradle Harry’s hips against her own, bucking up into the feeling of his erection resting against the curve of her pelvis. Harry groaned into the curve of her neck before pressing a kiss to her jugular. He drew his knees up on either side of her hips and wrapped his arms around her back, pressing their chests together and lifting her so she was straddling him.

“Want you like this,” he sighed into her mouth.

“Okay,” Andie agreed. She had no hesitation in reaching between them to take ahold of his cock and place it at her entrance. Slowly, she sank down on him until they were flush against each other. They moaned into each others mouths.

“So fuckin’ tight,” Harry panted.

“So fuckin’ big,” Andie returned smiling into his neck.

Harry snickered as he thrust his hips up into her, causing her to gasp.

Andie got the hint and started rocking her hips against his, groaning each time he hit the deepest part of her. They were in a position that had her clit perfectly rubbing against his pubic bone. She wasn’t sure how long she’d be able to keep up the position, but she was going to really enjoy it while it lasted.

Harry helped her along by gripping her hips and propelling her motion, keeping his head buried in her neck, licking at kissing at her skin between his moans. When he realised she couldn’t keep it up any longer, he laid her back down on the bed, lifting her legs by the back of her knees, pressing her thighs into her chest. His cock was so hard that he had no trouble sliding back into her with no aid.

“Fuckin’ soaked for me,” he grunted. “Like the way I fuck your cunt, darlin’?”

His hips were pounding into her so hard Andie had to reach up to brace her hands against her headboard to avoid bashing her head into it. Of all the ways she’d imagined Harry would be in bed, this was not it. He was always so gentle and kind, so seeing his muscles all bunched with effort and his skin shiny with sweat and the words coming out of his mouth and the strength behind each of his thrusts…it was a lot.

Andie sobbed out a moan when he brought one of his hands down to rub his thumb along her clit in a quick flicking motion. Her orgasm barreled through her, her mouth opening in a silent scream as she lost her breath. Harry didn’t slow through her climax, simply just forced his hips harder to overcome the strong clenching of her walls around him. He was barely keeping it together, since she was so tight, but he was determined to draw at least one more from her before he finished himself.

“So fuckin’ beautiful when you come for me, pet.”

Harry withdrew himself as he tried to catch his breath. He tapped on her hip to get her attention, motioning for her to roll over onto her stomach. She nodded before gracelessly flopping over, only being careful enough not to accidentally knee him in the junk. That would be a tragedy in the middle of all this.

He grabbed her by the hips to lift her onto her knees, keeping her chest pressed to the bed. He asked her for his hands and gathered her wrists in one of his fists at the small of her back. He used the leverage to draw her back onto his cock, his balls slapping against her skin. Her moans were load even when muffled into her pillows as Harry drove into her at a punishing pace. Andie’s hands flailed in his grasp, trying to find purchase on something to grip onto in her haze of pleasure. Harry saw this and released her wrists to clasp one of her hands with his, her other one reaching down beside her to grip at her sheets.

“Harry,” she gasped when he changed positions, angling his hips so he was hitting that sensitive spot inside of her. She got that telltale sensation that she had only experienced by herself before, that full feeling and that tingling pleasure that said she was going to explode. “I’m gonna…”

He reached under her with his free hand and rubbed against her clit, too close to his own orgasm to keep her on the edge.

Andie couldn’t hold it back any longer. With a few sure passes of his fingers and his unrelenting pace, Andie was cumming harder than she was pretty sure she ever had, especially with anyone else. Liquid pulsed from her body in rhythm with Harry’s thrusts. She was moaning out unintelligible words.

It took Harry a few seconds to realise that she was ejaculating all over his thighs and her sheets. If the strong fluttering of her pussy was enough to send him over, then seeing the evidence of her orgasm all over his skin was really overkill. His stomach clenched hard, forcing him to double over on top of her, pressing his chest to her back. He laid sucking kisses to her shoulders as he came down, both of them panting and sweaty.

After several moments, Harry pulled his hips from hers, breaking them apart with a groan. He flopped onto his back beside her, pulling her off her knees and into his chest. Her pale skin was covered in a light sheen of sweat and her pupils were still blown out when she looked at him. She licked her lips before smiling coyly at him.

“Wanted to do that for a long time,” she told him.

Harry smiled and pushed her hair back from her face like he had in the kitchen earlier, which had led to their time in bed. He pressed a quick but passionate kiss on her lips before saying, “Me, too.”

[edgythought]

Strangers in the Bar II

Part I  |  Part III

Alex Turner x OC (I guess??)

Description: Two lonely people observe each other in a bar. It leads to something nice. Word count: 2,982

Warning: swearing, alcohol consumption, smoking.

A/N: Nobody wants the second part but I am posting it anyway. Maybe, you'll enjoy. If you do, let me know! 

The time flew by like a super-modern spaceship through the deep void of silent space and my stay in LA was coming to an end about just as fast. I still didn't know if I liked the city or not. It was totally different from what I'd seen before, but the aftertaste wasn't that pleasurable as I thought it would be.  Maybe I was a prisoner of my own superstitions and prejudices, but I will never know. Moreover, Californian weather is just not my cup of tea, I would prefer something a lot more northern than constant heat and melting asphalt. But I must admit the city has its own unique vibe you cannot casually pass by, it wipes you away with its simultaneous boldness and sneakiness. 

It was a challenge for me not to think about the dancing dude I met the first night. Let's be clear, I hadn't fallen in love, but there was definitely a spark between us, even if it was a result of drinking too much. Some nights I even wanted to google him, but my drunk ass never asked for his name. His face looked familiar, like I've seen him before, but I couldn't remember for shit when and where. So, I gave googling up and continued with doing my stuff, which was a lot more important than some random guy I popped into at some bar. I thought it was a drunk adventure and this gave some assurance it will not happen again and I can move on. But I'd be lying if I said what happened didn't bother me in a way I didn't want it to. 

I was always very sensitive to vibes and energy people are emitting. That feature brought a lot of pain, but also a lot of understanding, so I tried to develop it as much as I could. And what I saw and sensed that night made me think about it way too much. I saw a lonely person trying to enjoy a simple moment of happiness, but I also saw a sharp mind and a visible ache in his eyes. I totally understand it may sound like an absolute bullshit, but I got the impression we were vibing at the same frequency in some way and it would be stupid of me not to admit I would do it again without thinking. And this fact was bothering me a lot. It was something I couldn't accept, like, how can it possibly be real — to meet a guy and have such a connection with him without even speaking to one another? Bear with me, I told my friends a lot, while sharing this story with them. But could I bear with myself? The answer is not really.

My time in LA is coming to an end, I thought, it would be nice to say goodbye where I started. To finish the adventure properly and leave for good.

It wasn't much later when I saw some familiar spots I observed while smoking near the bar on my first day in LA. Those palm trees were actually fascinating in a pastel background of the twilight sky, warm and so close you may have had a chance to touch it. There was no clouds whatsoever, so I took a pic of tree silhouettes to remember this beautiful view when I'm back home. What if Los Angeles becomes my home? I thought to myself strolling down the road, searching for a sign indicating a spirit-scented place. Soon enough I saw it on the other side of the street and rushed there. It wasn't as crowded as I remember it to be, but I guess that's going to change in an hour or so. I came too early, but I desired to get wasted and nothing was standing in my way so I just followed the waitress into the bar and crawled on the stool with all the grace I managed to find in my body. The bartender asked me what I'd like to have and I ordered "Orgasm" without thinking. Dude tried to make a joke out of it but unfortunately I wasn't impressed since I heard it way too much throughout my whole cocktail-drinking life. It was only funny the first couple of times. Anyway, I came to drink and I got what I wanted in 4 minutes. I spent the time glaring around, but there was nothing unusual for my eye to catch, just a bar, millions of them around the world. The music was on point, though. I thought it was a jukebox, the one you pay to put a song on, but I was wrong. Turned out, it was one of the bartenders who was in charge of music for the night and they took turns to be a DJ. At least, that's what I heard from the bartender, when I made a remark on the music. I was quite impressed, since it's mostly jukeboxes I saw in this kind of places. I found it pretty authentic and also very encouraging for the personnel to try their chances with music. What is more LA than that? 

My cocktail was tasty enough for me to distract myself with it for a while. My head was almost empty and I felt I achieved what I was striving for, so I needed to think what to do next. I was alone and a little bored. Maybe I can try to talk to someone? Just for the sake of having a conversation… - I thought - People are probably thinking I am a weirdo, I came alone and I drink alone. Well, this is who I am now and bitches shall accept that. Anyway, the drink was so delicious I finished it without realizing it. I ordered another one and decided it would be nice to smoke. 

When I got out I saw the last couple of minutes of the hot Californian twilight and was left to enjoy the early night. Cicadas were singing their oddly rhythmic song and I was inhaling smoke like it was my last cigarette on earth. It was nice to feel the relaxation spread from my chest to my hands and then knees. It felt nice having nothing to worry about for a night  and just do whatever your heart tells you to, even if it's totally stupid. The smoke twirled in the air above my head in irregular spirals. I watched it slowly dissolve in thick warm air, traffic noise making the whole experience a little bit ambient. I took out another cigarette and lit it from the previous one, as I had lost my lighter a few days ago and hadn't bought another one yet. I know, I know. My mind was in a weird state, I felt very calm and very nervous at the same time and I couldn't say what exactly caused it. I should probably stop drinking and smoking so much. But not today. 

My cigarette was quickly coming to an end as I watched people gathering near the bar entrance for a small chat or a smoke. I went back inside to continue my contemplation with a cocktail in my hand, but I was also determined to get to know someone. Maybe, that cute bartender who served the "dancing juice" will be back? I could talk to him, at least I did last time and it wouldn't be that awkward. But I haven't seen him today yet and I wasn't sure I will, therefore I decided to concentrate on people, cruising back and forth between table area and the bar itself. Everyone seemed very comfortable and friendly, but not a one familiar face in the whole room. Suddenly, I heard a phrase that made me jump on my stool and rush to the dance floor, occupied by two young men in weird shorts. 

Get on your dancing shoes!

I cannot explain why the indie tunes from 2000s made me so eager to dance, but they did and I was fine with it. I wiggled my ass to the beat, shook my head and pretended to sing the song to the boys in weird shorts. They somehow agreed to take part in my performance and the three of us had a very nice time dancing and jumping around for the next couple of songs. Soon I was very hot and went back to my place at the bar to take a sip of my drink and order a refill and some water. I went to the bathroom right after I saw the bartender nod at me, letting me know he heard what I told him, as the music was getting louder.

I was surprised to see there was no queue to the bathroom, so I used my chance not to hurry and take my time to fix my makeup and hair. I was even more surprised to see the bar crowded when I finished and I was absolutely flabbergasted to find my place at the bar occupied by some dick! Can you tell I went from 0 to 100 in a couple of seconds? My mood wasn't so great before but now it was pretty much spoiled. I saw the guy talk to the bartender and put my drink aside and my ass went off. Somehow in such situations I have a resting bitch face, which may serve an impression of me being unbothered, but it's not exactly how I felt then. I was furious because there was no other place to sit at the bar and it was just rude of the guy to sit on my stool, cause there was my drink, signifying it was occupied.

I came up to the dude and touched his shoulder to catch his attention. He turned around with half a smirk quickly changing into a look of surprise. I could feel my eyes grow in size when I saw who it was. "Is it fucking real?" - I asked myself, trying to be less shook. What an amazing coincidence, my stool at the bar was occupied by the dancing dude! - Who would have thought, am I right? — he said, fully turning to face me. — Not me, for sure. Get off my stool. — I shoo'd him from the stool but he didn't move a muscle. — Nope. You weren't sitting here when I came in, so it's mine now. — I raised my eyebrow in disbelief. — Don't be a little dick, you've seen my glass standing right here.  — I will buy you another one if you get off my dick. And once we are talking about that…. — he chuckled a bit. — You can sit in my lap if you fancy. My eyes widened, I was astonished by his bold move. — Are you flirting with me? — Who knows. So, mardy bum? Are you climbing in my lap or …? — he asked, looking attentively at my face with a wide smirk, pleased with himself. 

I threw my hands in the air silently and turned my back on him. I didn't fancy sitting in a random dude's lap, even if the dude was kinda hot and not actually random. Oh God, FUCK! He looked a bit different this time; his beard was trimmed and his hair was gelled back, black shirt and pants so tight I could probably see the outline of his underwear if he wore any. What a dweeb. I guess I'd recognized him instantly if I saw those pants. 

Why is this so embarrassing? I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I wanted to sass this bitch out, but I couldn't come up with anything merely appropriate for the situation, so I decided to ignore his questions and turned to take my glass. At this exact moment a very familiar and a really slow song came on.

I somehow lost my breath and fell into a spiral of memories I had associated with the song playing for a second. I was watching people dividing into pairs on the dance floor and it broke my heart a little. I remembered my ex-sweetheart holding me tight to him while this exact song played quietly in our apartment, right after the final fight we had. I remembered the emptiness I felt then and my eyes became too watery. I am not going to cry at the bar today, I told myself. No one was going to ask me to dance today anyway, I thought, and it stroke me pretty hard. I turned to go out of the bar to have a cigarette when the dancing dude touched my hand. I looked at him, struck by the sensation. He was offering his hand to me.

"Shall we dance a little?" 

I had no time to think properly and the whole situation felt a bit like deja vu. He was waiting for me to take his hand, eyes on me, wandering from hair to eyes, to boobs and back. I accepted his almost silent invitation and followed him to the middle of the dance floor.

When I'm around slow dancing in the dark Don't follow me, you'll end up in my arms

We were surrounded by different couples and that's one of the reasons I loved LA. It was just beautiful to see people simply dancing together. No one really cared what people might have thought of them, this is how it should be. He held my hands in his and as we're almost the same height I almost touched his long nose with mine. We remained silent while we were swirling in a very little space we had among all the people. His palms were soft and warm and I enjoyed his touch, even though I didn't want to admit it. 

Soon enough we got even closer and danced way slower. My lips were almost on his jaw as we were almost hugging each other to a sad song. Him being so close yet so far made me puzzled in some way. I didn't want this to happen and yet here I am, staring at dude's earlobes and gelled strands of wavy hair on the neck. Pretty view, should I say. He smelled exactly the same as I remembered and I found the smell heavenly complex. This sparked an idea to spend as much time in his arms as possible, but I shooed the thought away. It would be inappropriate.

I turned my head a bit to see his face clearly. His eyes were closed, but I could sense something going on in his head. He moved easily and graciously, even with me by his side and I was pleasantly surprised to realize he led me all the time we were dancing. I smiled a little to myself. It felt good to be in his arms and I decided it won't hurt to put my head on his shoulder, so I did. I took a deep breath, inhaling his cologne and smiled again. He tilted his head a bit, so it would touch mine. I thought about how we looked like on the dance floor seen by others. We probably look like two sad people dancing to a slow song, I sassed myself and shook my head a bit. Dude asked me if I was okay and I responded "sure". That was it, the whole conversation during the dance.

Can't you see? I don't wanna slow dance  In the dark

As the song was reaching its climax, we almost stopped moving at all. My hand that was placed on his shoulder slid down to his waist. He did the same with his hand, still holding mine. I liked him not pushing anything on me and appreciated the effort to be nice. It felt right to be this close to him somehow. I saw him lip-synching a little to the song and felt his warm breath on my cheek. I kept smiling as I watched his private performance. With the final phrase we stopped completely and just stood in each other's embrace for a couple of seconds longer than necessary. I didn't want to let him go. He seemed to feel the same. I blushed a bit, because it was getting awkward. Eventually, we split and I followed him to the bar.

He sat on a stool next to mine which appeared to be empty and gestured a bartender to come over. I sipped my cocktail, which I completely forgot about, to be honest. I was watching the dance floor and the dude turned to me and asked "Whatcha gonna drink, mardy bum?"

I did not expected that and took some time to proceed with the question. I looked at him, confused. "Nothing for now. Excuse me" i said and rushed to the bathroom. I didn't want to use it, however, I felt an urgent need to get away from his deep dark eyes inspecting my face. I turned on cold water and splashed some on my neck and chest to calm myself down. I guess I shouldn't have left like this, I thought, maybe I need to go back and try to have a normal conversation? I wanted to talk to someone less than half an hour ago. Oh no, there would be no conversation, darling, you will just stare at his face for an uncomfortably long time until he finds you creepy and leaves, I told myself. Well, this sucks but I have to go back anyway. I'd fancy a smoke, after all it was an experience and I definitely needed some nicotine in my system. I went out of the bathroom to finish my cocktail at the bar and found the dude's stool empty. It made me a bit sad, but I didn't say goodbye either, so it's only fair. I knocked my drink down and headed to the exit.

[spiderman-spoilerman]

SPIDERMAN EXPOSED BECAUSE OF TAYLOR SWIFT ADDICTION: What Is Peter Parker to Spider-Man?

This shit that has been going on for months now has finally been solved. For the longest time I’ve been following Spider-Man oh so very closely, eager to find out his identity—not to expose it to the media vultures, oh no, our hero deserves more than that. But… to satisfy my own curiosity. He’s the only Avenger hiding his identity, you know? You’d think they’d be okay with it after all these other superheroes get to run around freely…

Anyway!

As you all know, countless names have been linked to Spider-Man. He seems close with Tony Stark, but that’s hardly relevant. There’ve been links to JD Slinger, the American Pop Singer, in a very poor attempt to sell records—you’re not Hannah Montana JD fucking Slinger! Stick to your trash music!!!

However untrue and disappointing Slinger’s attempt at fame is, he’s not the only one with musical elements that is linked to Spider-Man.

A few months ago, a viral video entering adorable and kind of pedos-get-the-fuck-out-of-here-territory circulated around the internet and into our nightly news, as does every baby goes viral video does. You can check it out on the link below for a good dose of endorphins.

[Link: Baby boy wants to be Taylor Swift, re-uploaded by djflash]

[Description: A six-year old boy is standing in the shower with a towel draped over his body like a makeshift cloak, he is clutching his tooth brush on and seems to be furiously lip syncing. The camera shakes as the person behind the camera stifles laughter.

May Parker, the original uploader and aunt of the then-toddler Peter, asks: Aren’t you tired Peter? From all the singing? You’ve been singing for two hours. Aren’t you cold?

Peter is intensely staring at the mirror as he lip-syncs but pauses to look at May. He says in a tired and raspy voice: Yeah, but, but my fans! I need to sing, Auntie May, for the fa— [looking harried] DROP EVERYTHING NOW, MEET ME IN THE POURING RAIN—

The sound of Peter singing is drowned by May’s scream as Peter falls on his butt, having jumped with his passion for the song, and tripping.

It cuts off with May laughing while taking Peter in her arms, phone capturing her picking him up and hearing Peter crying as he tries to get back to the mirror: It—doesn’t hurt May. Need to get back—my! My concert!

Video ends]

Now how does a viral video of a baby Taylor Swift fan connect to Spider-Man?

Well, May Parker posted it on Facebook when Flash Thompson, who claims to be a good friend of Peter Parker (although I highly doubt this, he’s only in it for the clout and Spider-Man’s love, click here for more on Flash), decided to share it to everyone. One of his reposts on Twitter propelled it to viral success.

Weeks later, May Parker decided to bless us again with more content by taking a video of her now teenage (17 years old—PEDO’S STAY AWAY) nephew singing, once again, a Taylor Swift song.

[Link: I’m so glad im seventeen and can properly thirst upon this wonderful hooman]

[Description: They are in the kitchen this time and May Parker is being discreet with her video-taking. A Taylor Swift song ends softly from his phone’s tiny speakers. A Spotify ad interrupts but the video cuts it off two seconds later for another Taylor Swift song to filter in.

We take in the scenario. Peter is in his pyjamas, shaking his booty while singing Stay Stay Stay. He flourishes his hands a few times, dramatizing, “That’s when you came in wearing a football helmet, and I said, [he changes voices] “Okay, let’s talk” [he finishes one pancake and pours a new batter in before using the ladle as a microphone, as if in anticipation for the moment, and, back bent, face scrunched up, belts: STAYSTAYSTAY I’ve b EEN LUH-VING YOU FOR QUITE SOME TIME- TI-HIME! YOU THINK THAT ITS FUNNEH WHEN I’M—OH MAN, I spilled batter on my shirt!”

The camera shakes with May’s silent laughter. Peter does not seem to notice. He looks side to side, almost as if he is looking for something to wipe the batter with, but there are no paper towels in sight and his shirt is dripping with the excess batter the size of his fist.

In the most compelling, and understandable, moment of decision making, Peter has chosen not to be responsible and strips instead, to the utter delight of seventeen-year old’s in the world (and ONLY those younger than that! Pedos, I swear to god, if I see you, I kill you, that last blog was the last time you make me burn my eyes!)—a wonderful set of abs and toned muscles you would not expect from a seventeen year old boy singing to Taylor Swift with the squeakiest voice in the world.  Adorable. Ten points for my good boy ranks.

The video ends with Peter staring further at the shirt and licking at the batter before it violently cuts off to the roaring laughter of one May Parker]

It is peculiar, to watch May navigate the wonders of technology, too, because the first video was on her Facebook years unnoticed before Flash Thompson unearthed it for the world to see (Mr. Thompson, what exactly were your intentions going through a beautiful May Parker’s Facebook pictures?). But this time, she also apparently intended to send it to Peter’s friend’s Instagram account. However, the fluke came when she posted it and tagged them instead.

People who have followed her upon the first viral video have now decided it to be God’s work to distribute the video, making it viral within days. The very same people were the ones who noticed that Peter Parker’s singing style is the very same as Spider-Man’s.

I hear you gasp. Well, of course. I spit my tea as well, when I realized it too.

See, unless you were living under a rock, about a year ago, Spider-Man was exposed as a Taylor Swift fan when he saved a ten year old girl and began teaching her about the History and Influence of Swift’s discography and career, before proceeding to sing with her the hit song Speak Now. All of it was caught on camera, of course.

The people who spread this new video started a conspiracy theory that Spider-Man and Peter Parker are very similar people. One user @finn-man-the-aquaman pointed out that Spider-Man and Peter Parker’s voice are very similar. Another user @maxine_and_spider-man compared the dance moves from the two videos, putting frames of each steps beside each other, and found that it was so uncannily similar that it couldn’t have been a coincidence. It was an interesting point to make, because both Peter and Spider-Man had particular steps, all seemingly on a whim, but also matching each other perfectly. They are by no means good dancers, God no, but their whimsical dancing looks like two bad dancers following one choreography, couldn’t follow it technically but committed to it emotionally.

Twitter user @emiliar summarized it the best: the chest pump, the feet extension, the little jig, and the butt shake, before leaning backward and singing at the height of their emotions— apparently this is a common dance choreography?

To which @pissshitcry responded with a video that would bring us the wonderful breakthrough that I’ve been walking you all through.

[VIDEO uploaded by spidermansavedmetwice]

[Caption by @pissshitcry: No. Apparently: ]

[Video Description: Spider-Man is swinging through the buildings before stopping by Midtown High School, in front of a harried looking student, screaming frantically, and this is it folks: CAN YOU GIVE THIS TO NED LEEDS, TELL HIM SPIDER-MAN THANKS HIS FRIEND PETER! tHANKS! Before zipping away

Video ended]

Now. Okay. I know, calm down guys, I’m trying so hard not to run up the hills and do an Irish Jig, because I am so, so, so excited about all these new revelations! Nobody has quite documented this, too, so people, watch out for more of my content in a few weeks.

SO! Implication one: Spider-Man knows Ned Leeds.

Implication two: Peter Parker helped Spider-Man somehow.

Implication three: Spider-Man knows Peter Parker.

Cut, do it again, but with more emotions: SPIDER-MAN KNOWS PETER PARKER.

Let’s zoom back to a few weeks after the viral hits and Taylor Swift posts a video of her watching the video and then saying into the camera, with that iconic red lipstick and perfectly sculpted eyebrows: I have never thought this would be something that will happen to me in my career ever, but seeing a super-hero sing praises about me and teaching my [and she quotes from Spider-Man’s erratic explanation about her history] “unattainable song-writing prowess equal to that of the rock singing legends of ye old—” really does bring a smile to my face! More than that, Peter Parker is an absolute cutie too! He looks like such a sweetheart, baking those pancakes, apparently, for her aunt? Be sweet to your aunts guys! But also. I came here to cordially invite both Spider-Man and Peter Parker to come out to my concert in New York in two weeks! I’ll be there May 25th at the Lincoln Center, and maybe we can all sing together!”

She ends the video with the iconic Spider-Man wrist flip. The video has been circulated and has now gained over an estimated 100 million views.

It sparked a buzz of interest among the people, Peter Parker having received much of the spotlight. He hasn’t said anything in relation to Spider-Man but had reluctantly agreed to go to Swift’s invite. And I cannot emphasize the reluctant part. Kid looked so uncomfortable, but maybe he’s just shy!

Okay. Now, this thing is the most glaring indicator of what I will be telling you. The night of the concert. Everyone is there for Swift, but everyone is also there waiting for the much-awaited Spider-Man and Peter Parker saga. Halfway into her song list, Taylor Swift stopped to talk. The time has come.

Peter Parker walks into the stage, and the crowd welcomes him with adoring cheers, similar to Swift’s entrance herself. She introduces him, even though she absolutely does not need to, and the people scream their approval.

When Swift gives him his own mic, he almost drops it before catching it with his incredible reflexes. Swift calls for Spider-Man to reveal himself, much to the delight of the crowd, chanting his name as if it was a concert for him, which, in many ways, it kind of was. However, Spider-Man didn’t appear after that and the duo had to continue on.

It was a cute performance, with Parker stumbling a few times before getting the groove with Swift and belting it out as well. Everyone joins in on them singing and enjoying her old songs, Swift smiling and laughing the whole time.

Peter leaves the stage Spider-Man plushies and roses thrown for him, to which he received with a graceful bow. Swift resumes her concert after a few hearty jokes thrown in—but wait! What’s that?!

A screaming insect crashes at one of the large LED walls at the stage and the camera [and the collective crowd] is surprised to see the superhero—SPIDER-MAN!

“Ehehehe, hello Miss Taylor Swift, Ma’am!” He says, in a particularly deeper voice. Autotune? Before they sing it out, as they would—Swift laughing, and Spider-Man trying—Spider-Man explains that he was nervous meeting Peter Parker, before scrambling to correct that it was Swift he was nervous about meeting.

Swift then teases Spider-Man about a potential crush, which.

BRINGS US TO MY BREAKTHROUGH POINT.

TAYLOR SWIFT WAS ABOUT TO BRING US THE GAY COUPLE OF THE CENTURY, BUT SPIDER-MAN WAS TOO CHICKEN TO GET TO IT.

Okay, alright, I hate pedos, and we don’t exactly know Spider-Man’s age but we do know that he’s very young, what with all the pop culture references he’s been dropping with the intuition of an internet native. So, he’s young, alright? Possibly Gen-Z, even. Here’s a post you can see about his age analysis.

SPIDER-MAN. HAS. A. CRUSH. ON. PETER. PARKER.

[Insert hand chopping movements]

AND THEY ALMOST HAD A CUTE MOMENT ON STAGE HAD SPIDER-MAN BRAVED IT THROUGH.

PETER PARKER, AND I MEAN, PETER PARKER! SPIDER-MAN HAS A CRUSH ON YOU!

We’ve established that Spider-Man knows Peter Parker. They’ve met. Peter has possibly helped, or even saved Spider-Man himself. Now, saving a superhero is something that not just anybody does. And Parker himself is a student at Midtown Science High—he’s a smart kid! And seeing as these events just happened months apart, it wouldn’t be too far-fetched to imagine them meeting again, perhaps, with Parker making pancakes in dewy mornings, and a tired (and yearning) Spider-Man is watching from the windows as Peter dances along to Swift’s songs.

The watching from the windows theory and thus getting to know the choreography might not be so creepy if you factor in the fact that Spider-Man might be hiding his crush for Parker’s safety!

It is like the modern incarnation of Super-Hero romance, only now, its more inclusive! To exist in such a beautiful world, and to watch such an innocent tale bloom in this cruel, cruel world. We could only hope to see more of them together, maybe as something... more?

--

COMMENTS:

reblogged by thunderstrike: this is like someone trying to overanalyze twilight for some depth—THERE ISN’T ONE!

thunderstrike reblogged by spidahmanna: come on, give them some credit at least for recounting the most batshit insane crossover in the universe as we know it so far

reblogged by skdfas: this person needs help, but very entertaining to read

reblogged by nedleads: oH MY GOD 

reblogged by kliyon: new ship, age appropriate Spider-Man x Peter Parker

reblogged by ekeke: um yes, i need a dash of meet-cute with one cup of flavored angst—soda please, I like it to hurt— large fluff, a BFF serving of some of them yearning, and a happy sad-meal for one please.

reblogged by unaunann: im done with this site, who wants to burn the internet with me?

3, 000 reblogs in 1 day

--

 Tony, reading the blog: Hmmm…

[Later]

Tony: Okay so I read this blog and I have remedied it.

Peter: Oh my god thankyoumisterstark I swear I didn’t mean to—

Tony: You are now the biggest shareholder for Spotify because I know you don’t want me to pay for a premium account, but if you’re gonna listen to those damn ads while singing to Taylor Swift, at least earn from it, you know?

Peter: …that’s what you took from the whole thing?

--

NEXT ARTICLE: The Avengers film a parody of Queen’s I Want To Break Free. Is Captain America is as beautiful as Rogerina, or is he too buff??? Tony Stark is an iconic drama queen, perfect for Freddie Mercury, and more!

[lurea]

Part 4: Love You, Darlin’ til the End

This is NOT NEW.  I just discovered, thanks to  @justanotheridijiton that this had been deleted by the tumblr-bots.  Prolly because of the swears.  I’ve removed them and again thanks to Mel, found the text on the Wayback Archive so I could replace it.  It had pics originally, but since this was written in 2013 or something ridiculous like that, I’ll have to do some spelunking to find them.  

I find in 2020, that I don’t actually agree with every detail that I rhapsodized about here...  But I do still agree with the premise, which was that 5.04 was sneakily planned and shot to give the impression that in the future Dean and Cas were in a relationship.  The suits (or someone) objected, which is why the line change happened....but they still left in the set dressing, the wardrobe and all the other small things that suggest they are together together.  On a recent re-watch, I mentally high-fived chuck-- “Of course, Cas is here!  He’s not going anywhere!”

I was amused to note Risa hiding the back corner, away from Cas, as well she should be, since she been messin’ around with Cas’s man.  

All the significant looks between Cas, and past and future Dean...  It’s a beautiful episode.  I still hope it’s where we are heading, in the real upcoming End.   We’ll see.  

To see the original pics, enter this link :  

https://lurea.tumblr.com/post/33015108069/5-04-loving-you-darling-till-the-end-future-dean

into the Wayback archive  and select April 5, 2019 from the date choices.  That should get you a snap of the original post.  

All right!  The End is here!   (see what I did there? hehehe)  

Part One         Part Two         Part Three  

Now?   Future!Dean returns from his mission.  And we have the LINE.  That line that precipitated this ridiculously long analysis of Future!Dean and Future!Cas.  And the camera shot: Future!Dean, Past!Dean turning to look at Cas, and Cas coming into focus.  Future!Dean is clearly referring to Past!Dean.  So why does Past!Dean turn to look at Cas?

Future!Dean: I’m not gonna lie to you. Me and him—It’s a pretty messed-up situation we got going. But believe me, when you need to know something, you will know it. Until then, we all have work to do.

Here is Past!Dean…confused, upset because Baby is broken, Bobby is dead, Cas is acting weird, he’s in the past, everything sucks, and now Future!Dean just cold-bloodedly shot a friend?  Shot one of his own men in the head.  Future!Dean yells something, and the armed men standing behind him all turn to stare…  To stare at something behind Past!Dean and to his left.  

So what does Past!Dean do?  He turns to look at whoever it is behind him that the camp folks are staring at.  Who is it?  Cas. That’s why the camera sweeps over Dean and lingers on Cas and brings him into focus.  The camera is the point of view.  The men hear Future!Dean talking blah blah something-something….but what they see is that obviously something is up with Cas.

Of course, the others are all staring at Cas.  Cas is the one that they know has a ‘messed-up  situation’ with the Fearless Leader.  They are NOT looking at Past!Dean.  

If armed men were staring at Dean, the last thing he would do would be to turn his back on them–his instincts are too good for that. He might smile disarmingly, he might make a thumbs up, or he might try to out-stare them, but he wouldn’t just not respond and turn away.  They’re staring at Cas and Past!Dean follows their line of sight and turns to look at Cas, too.  

Can we say it all together?  Because Dean and Cas are lovers and the WHOLE FREAKIN’ CAMP knows it.  

On to the meeting scene in that storage room.  The meeting scene makes it clear that Cas doesn’t always agree with Dean, that he speaks his opinion when he thinks it’s called for.  And can we talk about this?  Cas, sitting with his feet on the table?  No one else is even sitting at the table, much less putting their feet up on it.  No one else argues with Dean.  Those two things right there reflect Cas’ status.  

No one BUT a lover would so obviously stake a claim to their place at the table… to their TERRITORY, practically daring anyone else…like say, RISA… to push his feet aside and sit down.  Daring anyone else to take his place at Dean’s side.  

And Risa sure doesn’t, she stays to one side and doesn’t talk much.  In fact, she’s obviously pretty crushed by Future! Dean neither knowing or caring why she’s angry–Past Dean has to explain, and after that, Risa says very little.  Future Dean doesn’t address her feelings, or apologize or even ACKNOWLEDGE them.  Compare that to how he behaves when Future Cas pays attention to Past Dean–it’s a huge contrast.  

[ two pics of Cas sitting at the table, with future!Dean in background ]

Just look at the body language established in these two shots. Risa far to one side.  No one else at the table.  No one else coming between Cas and Dean.  There’s ONE other chair at this table and that ONE chair is for Dean.  Cas has the other chair.  Because there isn’t anyone else.  For either of them.

Cas, at one side of the table and Dean, at the other.  Cas, feet propped on his side.  Dean, leaning on his hands on his side.  The point of view for the second shot, having Dean almost framed by Cas’ legs…that is suggestive framing!  Very very suggestive framing, implying a romantic/sexual connection between the characters!!  I mean, they could have made it a tiny bit more blatant if Cas’ legs had been spread…  

But this is clear enough.  You get the vibe.  And that, in my opinion, is yet ANOTHER reason why The End is so profoundly unsettling and upsetting.  There’s so much hinted..so much tension… so much that goes unspoken…that you can’t even put into words why you’re so upset…  You just know that you are.  

Future!Dean, in turn, has his laser-like focus on Cas.  As I noted above, he barely talks to either Risa or Past!Dean.   When Past!Dean explains about Risa, he tersely tells him to shut up.  Who does he talk to?  Cas. And when he pulls out the Colt, where does he put it?  On the table by Cas.

When Cas chuckles at Past!Dean’s torture comment, Future!Dean gives Cas a look, questioning and definitely jealous.    

Cas responds…without Future!Dean even saying a word, because that’s just how well these lovers know each other.  That they can have whole conversations with just a couple of words…and a look.

“What? I like Past you!”  Cas sounds defensive.  Future!Dean flicks a quick glance at Past!Dean and then back to Cas, and drops his eyes.  His lips part briefly.  Again, he doesn’t say a word, but there’s certainly a sense that he is hurt and taken aback by Cas’ comment.  

Probably both he and Cas are thinking about the past.  In 2009, before they were lovers.  Before all they had was each other, before they were lost…  and broken.  Future!Dean spreads out the map on the table.  From that point, until after everyone else is gone, Future!Dean only speaks to one person: Cas.  

When he pulls out the map, where does he put it?  On the table by Cas.  He doesn’t even OFFER to let anyone else look at anything.  There’s only ONE person whose opinion that he wants, that he has any questions for…and that person is Cas. He lets Cas criticize his plan, he lets Cas make snarky comments.  He asks Cas if he’s saying that his plan is reckless.  He stares into Cas’ eyes fiercely, ignoring everyone and everything else in the room.  And then he asks his most important question.

[ close up of jealous future!Dean ]

Dean: Are you coming?

Future Dean acts this way because he doesn’t care about Cas? Pfffft.  He asks this BECAUSE he cares about Cas.  Because he loves Cas, he wants Cas, he NEEDS Cas.  He also needs to kill the devil.  He also knows it’ll probably kill both of them.  It’s not simple, people.  Love never is.  

And if Cas had said “No” here, I think it would have broken him.  I think that’s how much Cas means to him.

Cas:  Of course.

And then…    Oh yes!  There is a Past!Dean reaction shot. So much has zoomed by him and most of it is subtext…most of it is unspoken.  But it’s clear (to me) that there is a lot going on in this episode that no one wanted Past!Dean to know.  That they didn’t want to explain the whole messy long tragic business of how they got from there…to here.  How they ended up in this crazy, punishing, clamps and feathers relationship, that doesn’t seem like it will lead them anywhere except to death.  

But this reaction shot?  Oh, Past!Dean gets it now.  Future!Dean’s expressions, their interactions….he gets it.  And this is another thread that will lead us right back to the present…and the name of that thread is Don’t ever change, Cas.  

But that’s a lie..  And it’s a lie that Dean will see for himself soon enough, because you can’t stop change, you can’t keep things the same and sometimes you can’t fight fate.  

I’d like to believe that these Future Dean and Future Cas managed to have some tender make-up sex before they leave. Or even rough fast sex. But I doubt it.  *sniff*  The meeting scene goes quickly because Dean and Cas have already had this argument about the goal of killing Lucifer.   Dean is not backing down, so Cas does.  Because Cas loves Dean, and if Dean decides that this is it, then that’s the way Cas rolls.

It’s significant that as soon as they are alone in the car, THAT is the time that Past Dean decides to start questioning Cas.  It’s no coincidence that he’s asking questions now after that reaction shot in the meeting scene.  He even mentions “love guru crap” which is as close as we’re going to get Dean asking about why Future Dean and Future Cas have this weird intensity between them.  

And in the truck is where we have the line that should have been this:  

Cas:  The only thing that I think we have left, Dean and me, is each other. If Dean says that it’s time to go out in a blaze of glory, win or lose, so be it, I’m in.  But then…(smiles easily) that’s just how I roll.  

Changed to this:

Cas: And now I’m powerless. I’m hapless, I’m hopeless. I mean, why the hell not bury myself in women and decadence, right? It’s the end, baby. That’s what decadence is for. Why not bang a few gongs before the lights go out? But then that’s, that’s just how I roll.

Let’s look at how much this changes the vibe and interpretation of Dean and Cas’ relationship.  

In the original line, the only relationship mentioned or referenced is the one between Dean and Cas.  Which is appropriate, because we KNOW it’s an important relationship, we’ve spent all this blankety- blank time building it and developing it, and it’s the subtle undercurrent that infuses this ENTIRE EPISODE.  

But the changed line drops that and tosses in a throwaway reference to Cas having sex with women.  

The first line states that Dean is the cause that Cas orders his life by.  Just like Meg tells us in season 7.   Cas isn’t despairing…Cas has found the person he loves, the person that he serves, and he’s happy with that.  Maybe he wishes that some things could be different, but he is following Dean and that’s the way he was meant to be.  

In the second line, Cas is 'hopeless’…he is 'hapless’.  He’s just waiting for the lights to go out.  Instead of having found peace and love in being with the person that he was meant to be with, he is suicidal.  

Think about that, and get pissed off with me.  Instead of being in a loving relationship, Cas is suicidal.  You want queer baiting?  That’s blankety-blank queer baiting!  

This pisses me off.  I love The End, don’t get me wrong, but it pisses me off that such a beautifully constructed episode would have gotten derailed, and its message diluted because of someone’s stupid homophobia.  Someone that is not Ben Edlund (who wrote it) OR Jeremy Carver (who wrote “Free”).  Because as Mark Shepard said so admirably, it’s time we grew up about LGT issues.  

Because that’s got to be the reason.  Suddenly instead of Cas’ and Dean’s relationship being the focus, we’re talking about Cas having group sex.  Instead of Cas making the commitment to follow Dean.. wherever it leads them. …  Cas is suicidal and just waiting to die.  

Now several others have pointed out different interpretations of that line to me…and a couple of points…I don’t believe that Dean and Cas in the future are mere puppets of Zachariah and so not truly Dean and Cas.  There are too many other times where Dean and Cas show End!verse symptoms (Cas getting drunk, torturing having a negative effect on Dean) that make it clear to me that they are being true to their characters.  

But others also pointed out that the first line just isn’t depressing enough for what they wanted the episode to convey–which is, Dean’s worst nightmare.  Outpastthemoat says it pretty well–that the new line better destroys any remaining hope that Dean might have about whether he could be good for Cas, whether he is right to continue to say No to Michael, and so on.  

That is certainly true..but I still like the old line better.  I mean, seriously, they do all still end up dead!  That’s pretty depressing to me! (sulks)  

Look, say…believe… whatever you like about Dean and Cas, but this line is proof that The End was originally intended –beyond a shadow of a doubt!– to establish that Dean and Cas are in love and have been lovers.  

And again, it’s no coincidence that this episode followed “Free to be you and me,” which explored Dean and Cas’ considerable romantic chemistry and attraction.  "Free" is the journey…but “The End” is the destination.

(insert one moment of absolute fangirl squealing because with Carver at the helm and The End verse already established as our destination, folks, the probability of Dean/Cas becoming unequivocally canon just shot way way up!)

deep breath

But anyway, back to Past Dean, in the truck with Future Cas.  And his efforts to pry and find out what is going on between Dean and Cas in the future.  If we’d had our line (fumes) it would have been clear.  But instead, we have some misdirection.  But that’s all right.  It might frustrate things for us, the audience.  But it doesn’t change anything for Past Dean.  

Because Past Dean didn’t start questioning until he noticed how Future Dean behaved toward Cas.  And Dean knows himself.  

He knows his lying expressions.  He knows his loving expressions.  And his jealous ones.  He knows.  That’s why he separates out Cas when he asks Future Dean if he was going to put his friends through a meat grinder…and Cas too?  

Because Past! Dean knows that Future Dean loves Cas.  He’s hoping that that pointing out that Cas will die will get through to Future Dean like nothing else could.

And it does.  Future Dean looks away.  He has to look away.  And that…that is when Past Dean says..   “Oh man, something is broken in you.”  Because he can see that Future Dean loves Cas, and Future Dean is still going to go through with this plan.  

Future! Dean– when he is talking to past!Dean?  This is not the face of someone who doesn’t care.

[pic of sad future!Dean ]

Okay, this next bit is admittedly speculation.  But it does mesh well with the patterns of behavior that we’ve seen before from Dean.  

So why has Future Dean been behaving in such a chilly manner?  We get a flash of emotion when Cas laughs at Past Dean, another when Past Dean says “You’re broken,” but not much more.  Why?  

Oh, I do think Dean actually loves Cas as much as he is able,  I think Past Dean saw that as well, which is why he makes the comments that he makes.  And Future Dean is chilly because he loves Cas.  

So he’s not sharing a vehicle with Cas on the ride to their last mission.   That’s probably why he precipitated my theoretical argument between them.  Why he hasn’t been sleeping with Cas in the cabin that they share.  

Because it’s going to hurt to let Cas die for this plan, but it has to be done.   So Future Dean will do it, and he’s not planning on living through this either.  

But there’s only so much that he can take, and he can’t be Cas’ lover, ride with Cas in the car, interact with Cas, knowing what he knows.  So he shuts those feelings away so that he can get through it.  

But this face?  Not the face of someone who doesn’t care.

[ pic of sad future!Dean, leaning against the car, before heading in ]

That’s the face of someone hurting, who is trying to hide it.  Because that’s what Dean does, past and present.  He denies.  He avoids.  He represses.  And the fact that he’s doing all these things here, in this episode, when everything and everyone else in the episode suggest that Cas and Dean are very very close…   It means that yes, there IS something to repress.  He HAS to repress it.  That coldness…is because it’s the only way that he can cope.  

Blah, blah, Lucifer.  Not interested in this part and I’m sure someone else has done a wonderful meta on it.  :)  

Let’s talk about what happens when past!Dean returns to 2009, and Zachariah threatens him.  And who saves Dean?  Cas.  We and Dean, were expecting Cas to show up at the hotel.  Obviously, Cas sensed Zachariah’s presence with Dean, and rescued Dean.  (Does he brag? Does he say, saved your ass yet again, Winchester?  Nope. Gosh, Cas you are awesome. You deserve a hug.)

Dean: That’s some pretty nice timing, Cas.

Cas: We had an appointment.

Dean: Don’t ever change. 

[ pic of Cas looking snackalicious ]

Don’t ever change.  Don’t get broken.  Don’t become addicted.  Don’t bury yourself in physical sensations to make up for the pain of all the losses that you suffered because of me.  

Don’t fall in love with me, Cas, because I’m broken and I’m not good for you.  

Dean is extremely shaken by his experiences in the End Verse.  He’s so shaken that he reaches out and touches Cas tenderly…lovingly.  He reunites with Sam.  All in an effort to keep himself from become the cold, broken man he saw in 2014.  And it was The End that led us directly to 99 Problems and Point of No Return and Dean’s decision to say YES to Michael.

Which he doesn’t end up doing, after all.  And let’s take a quick glance forward, where Dean spent most of last season quite openly and obviously mourning for Cas.  Because he loves him.  Because despite everything that happened in The End, despite all those clear-as-day warnings, Dean still fell in love with Cas.  

Maybe it was too late then.  It’s too late, always was, always will be…. Too late, once he’d laid a hand on him and pulled him out of hell.  

Because.. Whatever choices you make, whatever details you alter, we will always end up–here.  

Because…  Destiny can’t be changed, and all roads lead to the same destination.

Here, in this post-Apocalypse where the only thing that Cas thinks they have left.. is each other.

sigh

So let’s review:

The sets, especially the large cabin that we find Cas in:  Supports the idea that Dean and Cas are lovers.

Chuck’s and Risa’s reactions:  Supports the idea that Dean and Cas are lovers.

Cas’ dialogue, esp. the  "gotten over trying to label me" bit:  Supports the idea that Dean and Cas are lovers.

Future!Dean’s dialogue and focus on Cas: Supports the idea that Dean and Cas are lovers.

Cas’ body language: Supports the idea that Dean and Cas are lovers.

Their wardrobe: Supports the idea that Dean and Cas are lovers.

The way their shots are framed and filmed:  Supports the idea that Dean and Cas are lovers.

The reaction shot of the armed men and Past!Dean turning to look at Cas: Supports the idea that Dean and Cas are lovers.

The original dialogue from the truck scene:  Supports the idea that Dean and Cas are lovers.

One last thought and then I’ll shut up.  

Who does Past!Dean look at in the photo at Bobby’s?  Cas

Who does Past!Dean go to see first?  Cas

Whose side of the table is past!Dean standing on?  Cas

Who does Past!Dean ride with to the mission and question about his past and seem extremely interested in?  Cas

Who does Past!Dean attempt to save from Future!Dean’s suicide plan? Cas

For Dean, past and present, it’s Cas Cas Cas Cas….

And for Cas, past and present, it’s Dean Dean Dean….  

Just shut up and kiss already, you two!  

Snatch a little bit of happiness before we get to The End.  Please?

Please?

[arcane-merlin]

I Don’t Want To Say Goodbye || Originalshipping (Part 1)

Fandom: Pokemon

Ship: Red x Green/Blue

Contains spoilers for Pokemon Mystery Dungeon Explorers of Sky/Time/Darkness!

Synopsis: Red is transformed into a Pikachu and is sent to the Pokemon world a few months after becoming Pokemon Champion. Washed up on a beach, he meets Blue, an Eevee who bears a striking resemblance to his best friend and rival in the human world. On their last journey together they must use everything they've learned as explorers to defeat Primal Dialga and prevent the planet's paralysis. And come to terms with their feelings for each other. That too.

(might be a two part or three part who knows lol? Also cross-posted on Fanfic.net, AO3, and Wattpad!)

"We did it Red. We're almost at the top of Temporal Tower. I can feel it." The Eevee turned around to meet the Pikachu's eyes. Composed and determined. Ready for the inevitable.

'Let's save the world from the planet's paralysis, Blue.'  Red thinks. 'Together.'

Blue became silent, understanding his partner as if he were a psychic type Pokémon. Blue reaches a paw at the blue water drop necklace he's wearing. He's always kept this rare necklace with him ever since he got it as a baby. His name derives from said necklace. We will definitely win! And... and once we do... I'm gonna evolve into a Vaporeon!

Nodding at each other, the two partners, who put their whole trust in one another, swearing to save the world, and prepared for this very moment, continued forward.

They enter the next room, spotting a grey stone staircase. Guarding the stairs is a sleeping Porygon-Z. Red signals Blue to stay at the front of the damp hallway. As quiet as a Rattata, Red approaches the sleeping enemy. Stopping nearby the front of the vulnerable Pokémon, he waves at Blue.

A pincer attack, Red? Good thinking!

Blue is careful in his steps. All of the Pokémon they've encountered so far are tough, and they want to save as much energy as they can in the event that they are forced to fight... Dialga. Even thinking about Dialga is sending shivers down my spine...

All the more reason to hurry...!

Blue shakes his head, sending the thought of facing the fierce legendary Pokémon to the back of his mind. Red puts three small fingers up. One by one, the fingers go down. Once the last finger went down, Red and Blue simultaneously attacked. The Porygon-Z screeches in agony, and retaliates with discharge, paralyzing Blue. The status effected Eevee trembles, unable to resist and that angers Red. Red attacks using thunderbolt. Turning it's attention to the Pikachu, Porygon-Z discharges once again. Red is having none of that though and dodges. Going for a Quick Attack this time, Red manages to knock Porygon-Z to the solid floor.

Blue's paralysis fades soon after and he sighs, relieved. Man... when will we get a break?

"Red." Blue flashes Red with a tender grin, "Thank you."

'...?'

"If I hadn't found you at the beach... I wouldn't have come close to achieving my dream of joining Wiggilytuff's Guild. We would've never saved Azurill from Drowzee, see the beauty of Fog Bound Lake, uncover the mystery of my Relic, escaped the future... Without you, how could I grow into the Blue everyone's come to know? Before... I was just known as Eevee, grandson of a famous Pokémon Explorer. Achieving something for myself... that was out of the question. Always being number two. Always being compared. I guess you were the missing puzzle piece, huh. I can't... I can't imagine a world without a human-turned-Pikachu named Red. I can't imagine my world without you...

'Blue...'

"If we're together, there isn't anything in the world that stands a chance against us! Let's save our friends, our world, our everything! Then, when it's all over... we have to watch the Krabby on the beach together, known as the heroes who saved the whole world."

'...!'

Red lovingly pats Blue's head, smiling. Blue affectionately stares at the gesture.

'I love you, Blue.'

Red tilts his signature red cap down, suddenly overrun with embarrassment. Many memories were made wearing this hat when he lived in the human world. He got his first Pokémon, a Pikachu. It was fate that he transformed into one himself. Red, wearing the hat, defeated the gym leaders, Team Rocket, the Elite Four....

...and the Champion, his long time best friend and rival, Blue Oak. An Eevee was also Blue's first Pokemon and here Red is, talking to an Eevee sharing the same name. Another coincidence in this mysterious world where Pokemon could talk.

When Blue (the Eevee) found Red collapsed on the beach, he was firmly clutching the soaked hat. This hat being his only memory of the human world. Home.

Today is no different. He would make a new memory alongside his dependable partner, Blue. Stopping the planet's paralysis. It's true that Red has already created countless memories wearing the hat in the Pokemon world, but this one is more important than the rest.

And would be his last.

|||

Temporal Pinnacle

The hard ground beneath them had cracks. Four stone columns surround them, forming a square shape. Facing diagonally, the tops of two columns had broken off, another sign that Temporal Tower was going to collapse at any given moment. Red and Blue observe the area, hearts rapidly pounding. Roaring winds blew against their fur. Red wraps his arms around himself, trying to keep warm. Shaking his fur, Blue takes a few deep breaths.

"Is this... Is this the top of Temporal Tower...?" A rhetorical question. Blue was in disbelief. Yet, deep down both Pokemon knew that they had reached their destination.

An intense beam of light accompanied by a loud sound startles Blue out of his disbelief. Red goes on four legs, cautiously awaiting for an enemy. Sparks emit from his red cheeks.

"Waah!" Blue rushes to Red's side, "Lightning!"

Reluctantly raising his head to the sky, Blue's beady eyes widened. Wha-

"Look at the sky, Red!" Blue points up.

Like a whirlpool, red clouds swirl in the sky. In the center is a black hole, where lightning bolts rapidly shot out. The enormous clouds covered the entire sky. Neither Pokemon could see out of it.

"It's incredible!" Blue shouts, awed. "Red clouds are swirling!"

Deafening sounds of more sparks of lightning caused Red and Blue to cover their ears. The ground trembled underneath. A ticking clock then resounded, a reminder of their restricted time limit.

"Waah! It happened again!"

The tremors never lasted for long, but it would probably become much worse later on. Blue finds himself touching his necklace again. Regaining some confidence back, he squeezes it before letting go. Red rises from his defensive stance and glances at Blue.

Blue acknowledges the impending fate of Temporal Tower, "This tower feels like it's going to shake apart any moment! Let's hustle, Red!"

Red nods.

Red and Blue continue forward and it isn't long until they near a small set of stairs. Is that... an altar?

"Look! Over there!"

Something similar to veins glowed on a navy blue edifice. The structure was made up of five dividers that were cupsidated at the tip. In the middle, a stone with a luminous pattern and five indentations situated on a divider larger than the others. Serrated points emerged from the bigger divider.

"...What could this be? It has a strange, mystical feel..." Green tilts his head.

'...................................'

'There's a big circular pattern... Inside are indentations that look like they've been gouged out...' Red contemplates, squinting his eyes. 'What is this...?'

Red connects the dots. '...! Wait a second! The gouged-out indentations... There are five in all. Five slots... That means...!'

Red then lightly taps Blue and promptly shares the conclusion he arrived at.

"What?" Blue questions, "Five slots?"

The meaning of the question became obvious.

"Th-that's it! If I set the five Time Gears into these slots... We might prevent time from stopping!" Strong-willed feelings wash over Blue. Red and I are definitely... gonna save our world! Nothing can stop us now!

"Ok!" Blue gazes Red. An unanswered question lingers in the air. Red's eyes told Blue the answer. "I'll do it!"

But before either of them could approach the edifice, a powerful lightning bolt knocks them backwards. Landing on the hard floor knocked the wind out of them. As they shortly recover from that surprise attack, they notice that the sky above became dark and with it came a ill-boding presence. Red covered Blue's mouth to quiet his scream.

"GRRRRRRRRR..." A roaring gruff growl resounded, "SO! IT'S YOU! YOU SEEK THE DESTRUCTION OF TEMPORAL TOWER!"

The voice's declaration alarmed both Red and Blue.

"What?! You're wrong!" Blue desperately shouts, attempting to convince whoever the voice belonged to. "We're here to prevent time from stopping!"

Blue's words seemed to aggravate the voice even more. Their voice bellowed, "TIME...STOPPING...TIME... GRRR-OOOOOO!"

Primal Dialga appeared out of thin air, its massive dragon like body towered over Red and Blue. Steel enveloped some parts of its navy blue body. Designs covering its body were colored orange. The diamond in its chest altered from blue to a fiery red, representing the Pokemon's anger and loss of self-control. At the sight of Primal Dialga, Red is back in defensive mode. He goes on all fours, hackles raised.

"D-Dialga!" Blue yelps. Dialga's response was a fierce cry.

"YOU!" boomed Dialga. "YOU DARE BRING RUIN TO THE TOWER!"

"No! That's wrong!" Blue attempts to reason with Dialga. "We want to prevent the tower from collapsing..."

Unconvinced, Dialga growls, "SILENCE!"

'Trying to talk with Dialga is impossible...! He won't listen to reason!' Red thinks.

"FOR ALL THOSE WHO THREATEN TEMPORAL TOWER... I WILL SHOW NO MERCY!" threatens the enormous dragon, letting out another menacing roar.

Blue seemed to get the message and turns to face Red, "It's no use, Red! He's not listening to us at all!"

'Dialga is losing control because time is breaking down! But... This isn't like Primal Dialga in the future... He's not yet fully consumed by the power of darkness! There's still a chance that Dialga can be brought back to reason! There's still hope!'

"H-here he comes, Red!" Blue warns as the Legendary Pokemon obstreperously roars once more.

Harnessing all the remaining strength within him, Red uses discharge. Blue follows up by throwing a Gravelerock, but Dialga dodges. Red proceeds to attack with Thunderbolt and somehow misses. Blue bites down on Dialga's leg. However, Dialga doesn't flinch from the attack and unleashes Roar of Time. Red saw that move coming from a mile away and covered his ears. His partner on the other hand, took massive damage and fell to the ground.

Red scours the exploration bag for a Reviver Seed and a Violent Seed. He places the reviver seed in Blue's mouth and uses his tiny hand to make Blue chew on it. Stumbling to his feet, Blue regains consciousness. Red consumes the Violent Seed to strengthen himself and Blue goes on the offensive by using Bite once more. Dialga is unable to attack for the next few moments after using Roar of Time, so Blue consumes a Violent Seed himself while Red attacks with Thunderbolt.

Blue proceeds to continue using Bite and Red Thunderwaves to paralyze Dialga. However, Dialga shortly recovers from the paralysis and attacks Red using Metal Claw. Before Dialga is able to finish Red off, Blue hurls his Oran Berry at Red. Munching on the berry, Red moves away from the impending attack. The draft formed from Dialga's missed swipe knocks his hat to the ground.

Going for another Roar of Time, both Red and Blue took major damage. It wasn't enough to make either of them faint, however, they only had two more Reviver seeds and six Oran Berries left. If they didn't finish this battle soon... the three of them and everyone else would perish as the tower collapses and the world fell into ruin. Both Red and Blue ate an Oran Berry before using the same attacks as before. Able to attack again, Dialga hurls an AncientPower at Red. He's able to withstand the move and risks the rest of his energy by attacking with Discharge.

The corrupted Legendary Pokemon bends down on one knee, glaring at the two Pokemon who bested him. He still wants to fight... but has forgotten the reason why. A painful roar, a roar full of want, is the last action Dialga takes before thudding to the ground. Red and Blue pause, afraid that Dialga would suddenly attack again when they least expect it. A few seconds pass, but Dialga did not make a move.

"We... did it..." Blue lets out a breath he didn't realize he's been holding. "Ok, Red! It's time! While Dialga is still down, I'll go put in the Time Gears."

As Blue takes a couple steps forward, another tremor shakes the floor, stronger then the previous ones. Lightning is swiftly spewing from the red clouds.

"Th-this... This tremor is the worst it's been!"

' T-Temporal Tower is... Temporal Tower must be nearing total collapse...' Red wonders if they've already run out of time. 'If... If that were to happen... The destruction will accelerate... until the planet is fully paralyzed!'

Strong bolts of lightning strike at the stone ground, creating bigger cracks. Red picks up his hat from the ground and has a vice-grip on it, as the wind was getting difficult to withstand. Moving past Dialga's body, they fight against the shaking floor and high speed winds to climb the stairs.

"Urk! The floor's heaving..." Red struggles to hear Blue's voice. "It's hard to put the Time Gears into place!"

One by one, Blue and Red insert the Time Gears into the slots. They have difficulty placing the last two on the top, but manage to do it after Red uses Blue as a stepping stool. Red and Blue lock tired eyes.

Hope is evident in Blue's voice. "Done! They're all set!"

The gears emit a white light... and disappeared along with the indentations leaving a sky blue light on the grey stone. The color of the squiggly designs on the blue altar changed to a bright greenish color. Unable to bear the shaking any longer, Blue falls and rolls down the stairs. Red lands on his back. He stumbles to his feet and rushes toward Blue.

"Wh-why?! I put the Time Gears where they're supposed to go!" the hope in Blue's voice begins to fade with each word, "Why won't these tremors stop?!"

'Blue...'

Blue has a horrified expression on his face and tears form at the corners of his eyes. "It can't be... Was I too late...? Will Temporal Tower continue to collapse...?" Blue wipes the falling fresh tears, confused and afraid. "Is it too late... to stop the planet's paralysis..?"

Blue shamefully faces Red, a shadow of his former self. What can he say? Sorry for failing you? Sorry for failing the entire Pokemon world? Red's heart breaks at the sight of Blue's tearful expression. He desires to tell him that they would be fine and go home to Treasure Town, forever known as heros. In this situation, with the tremors and lightning becoming powerful enough to tear down the tower, Red would be lying. Still, he'd give anything to see Blue smiling again, even lying to himself. His Mom, Professor Oak, and Blue... Do they miss him? It must've been at least a few months since his disappearance. They're all probably worried sick.

'I regret taking his Champion title. I should have told him that I love him... but my words just won't come out! I continue to hurt him... What is wrong with me...? He was always there for me. Was I ever there for him? Why did our friendship end the way it did?

Is it because... of me?'

Powerful thunder impacts the top, destroying more of the floor and the other two columns. Both Pokémon drop to the ground. Using the last of his energy, Blue turns to face Red, knowing it would be the last time he'd get the chance to. A droopy grin appeared on his features, his manner of accepting the fate they journeyed so far to avert. Too many emotions begin to overwhelm Red. Despite the inner turmoil, he returns Blue's accepting smile. They did all they could. Yet, it wasn't enough.

Red's vision fades to black. His last thought was about the boy who he somehow fell in love with, Blue Oak.

|||

"Hello...? Can you hear me?" someone called.

It's blurry. The only thing that Red can make out is a boy with caramel hair and emerald eyes. Red blinks multiple times. His eyes slowly adjust to the brightness of the sun. The entrance of a town and three buildings. Two of which were houses, the other was a lab. Underneath, the hard stone of Temporal Tower was no more. Instead, Red's hands met with the touch of wet grass as he lifted himself up.

'Pallet Town...?'

A painful headache seizes him, causing his body to convulse. He can't seem to recall what happened. At that moment, it dawned on him. He must've died, but his memories are jumbled up. How else would he be standing in front of Blue Oak? Collecting himself, Red nodded in response to Blue's question.

Blue sighed in relief, playfully punching Red in the arm. "I can't believe you were hiding here, Red. I've been trying to find you! My sister and I have a surprise for you!"

Blue extends a hand to Red. Red doesn't think twice before grabbing onto him. He's realized that he missed this, begin away from the human world for Arceus knows how long. And now he's been gifted a second chance. Memories of adolescence are resurfacing.

They enter the Oak house, everything in place as Red remembered last time he visited. Much to Red's chagrin, Blue let go of his hand. A box wrapped in Pikachu printed wrapping paper sat on top of the table. Immediately, Red rushed over, casting an asking glance back at Blue. Blue pat Red's dark hair and chuckled.

Fresh tears gather in Red's eyes. He already knew what Blue's gift was. His signature red hat. Only in this reiteration, the hat was not yet tattered by the memories Red would make as a trainer and an actual Pokémon.

'Oh...' Red warmly stares at the thoughtful gift. 'I guess I must have fallen in love with him at this exact moment. Besides my mom, no one else really gave me anything. Of course, I didn't mind. As I child, I didn't talk much. I did what I was told and never expected something in return. Blue and I only knew each other for a year, since Mom and I moved to Pallet Town after my father's death. All the gifts that Mom gave me... And yet, the hat that Blue got for me became my most valued possession.'

"Well? Do you like it?" Blue questions, a faint blush on his cheeks. Red briskly nods, beaming. He puts it on.

"Red." Blue's voice suddenly quiets to a serious tone. "How long are you gonna keep him waiting?"

'Huh?'

"It's not over yet." he sadly smiles, retaking Red's hand into his. "Wake up. The other Blue... he needs you right now."

'No...!' Red lifts his head. Rivulets of tears fall. 'I don't want to... not like this! Not when I can see you again!'

Blue seems to have read Red's thoughts. Bumping their foreheads together, he whispers, "No, Red. This... is a dream. I'm not the real Blue Oak... but you and him will certainly cross paths once this is all over. Don't keep me waiting, okay?"

'...'

'Okay. I promise.'

|||

'...Ugh...' Red feels like his head is splitting. 'Urk... Th-this is...'

His body is unusually heavy as he pushes himself off the floor. Destruction due to the tremors and thunder surround him and he wonders how the Tower hasn't collapsed by now. Large cracks cut into the ground. Gone were the tops of the four columns, two of which were lying on the ground. His eyes come across his collapsed partner.

The Eevee groaned as Red stumbled toward him. He lightly nuzzled Blue's warm fur. Without warning, Blue's eyes opened and he was on his legs. Red breathed out, appeased that Blue appeared to be fine.

"Hey... Red..." Blue's gaze wandered around, searching. Confusion appears on his face. "Wh-where...?"

Out of nowhere, someone spoke. "THIS IS... TEMPORAL TOWER."

The voice belonged to Dialga, now back to his original form. Various light blue stripes instead of orange on blue skin. His chestplate holds a diamond in the middle. Three spines shone on the back of his neck, as well as a metallic head piece that seemed like a crown. A fin-like structure rests near his tail. Cautiously, Red and Blue make their way towards the gigantic Legendary Pokemon.

"Dialga!" Blue's voice shook. They couldn't possibly battle again. Red and Blue barely won the last fight.

Dialga heard the panic in Blue's voice. "YOU HAVE NO CAUSE FOR ALARM. I HAVE REGAINED MY REASON."

"What?" taken aback, Blue tilts his head.

Dialga calmly explains the situation, "TEMPORAL TOWER HAS TAKEN HEAVY DAMAGE... BUT IT HAS SURVIVED." he turns from the two, "NOW, OBSERVE."

The diamond shimmered. Soon after, a moving image played in both Red and Blue's mind. From the forest floor, bushes and grass dance in gentle winds. Above, the sky is blue with several white clouds. Red supposes that Dialga is using telepathy to show them. Another scene played. Damp leaves on the branch of a tree. Drops of water trickled from the leaves.

All of this was happening at a familiar place, Treeshroud Forest. Yet, when Red and Blue were there, time had stopped. There was no sign of movement, of life. Now it seems as if... time has been restored. Life can now continue. Not only in Treeshroud Forest, but in all the places where time has stopped.

Treasure Town came into frame. Bidoof was in front of Duskull Bank, two treasure boxes full of Pokemon currency as always. Teddiursa and Ursaring are together, chatting as always. Corphish stood on the stones in the center of the dirt path. Swellow and Wurmple were also prattling on and on nearby Electivire. Xatu peacefully stood in front of his shop, waiting for a Pokemon to bring him a treasure chest so he could open it. Kangaskhan's storage was open. Politoed, Ledyba, and Togepi seemed to be buying something from the Kecleon brothers. By the looks of it, everyone is doing well. It's like any other beautiful day in Treasure Town.

Rocks float in the filled with yellow clouds. Light shines from above. The Hidden Land. At the highest point, a damaged and not far from collapsing tower rests.

"TEMPORAL TOWER SURVIVED THE CRISIS. TIME HAS RETURNED TO NORMAL HERE..." Dialga clarifies, "THUS, TIME HAS RESUMED IN PLACES WHERE IT HAD STOPPED. BECAUSE YOU STOPPED THE RUIN OF TEMPORAL TOWER... THE PLANET'S PARALYSIS HAS BEEN PREVENTED. THE WORLD'S PEACE... HAS BEEN RESTORED."

Blue can hardly believe he's hearing this, "R-really?! We did it, Red! We finally did it! We brought peace to the world!" he celebrates. Blue's expression was that of content.

"ALLOW ME TO THANK YOU." Dialga spoke. "I THANK YOU FOR REACHING THE HIDDEN LAND... YOU HAD THE COURAGE TO STAND UP TO ME, EVEN AS I RAGED OUT OF CONTROL... AND YOU PREVENTED THE RUIN OF TEMPORAL TOWER IN THE NICK OF TIME. THANK YOU. ALL THIS, I OWE TO YOU."

Delighted surprise is evident in Blue's voice, "D-Dialga..."

Dialga continues, "BUT ALL IS NOT YET AS IT SHOULD BE... IT WILL TAKE TIME. I MUST SEE TO THE REPAIR OF TEMPORAL TOWER." his gaze moves towards outside the tower, lost in thought. "THE HIDDEN LAND, TOO, HAS BEEN RAVAGED... BUT THE RAINBOW STONESHIP SHOULD STILL BE OPERABLE... AND LAPRAS SHOULD BE AWAITING YOUR RETURN."

Blue nods. "Ok!" he forgot for a while there that he and Red had to journey home, but that was fine. He couldn't wait to see everyone again and continue their lives at the guild. "Let's go home, Red! Back to Treasure Town!"

Leading the way, Blue runs to the entrance of the roof. Red begins to follow, but then realizes that he's missing his hat. Rescuing it from the floor, he dusts it off before descending the stairs.

Sorrow slowly eats at him as they make their way down Temporal Tower and towards the Rainbow Stoneship.

This is it. His final memory in this world alongside Blue.

|||

Blue proudly strides in front of Red on the floating stone path, eager to reach home. Power is in each of the tiny steps he takes. Oppositely, Red finds it becoming more and more difficult to move his body. His breathing is becoming ragged. Perhaps he should tell Blue...

Now noticing something off about Red, Blue speaks up. "What's the matter, Red? Let's hurry." Blue cringed at his tone. He sounded annoyed, even though he really wasn't.

Red feebly nods, though Blue doesn't seem to notice. They continue their slow pace with Red weakening as seconds pass.

'My body... feels heavy... What's wrong... Why am I struggling to move...? It's like... my legs are weighed down...' Red clutches his head, thoughts swimming in his mind, trying to think of a reason. 'Maybe... now that we've changed the future... My own disappearance... is drawing near...'

A small tremor and Blue's yell jolts Red from his thoughts back to reality.

"It's settled down..." Blue sighs, shaking his head to focus. "I guess things are still settling back to normal... Let's go, Red."

Blue strode onward. Suddenly, incandescent light encompasses Red, prompting him to stop in his tracks.

'This... This light...' Red frowns, already knowing what was happening to him. 'The time has finally arrived... My time with Blue... ends now.'

"Hey, Red!"

Once Blue shortly realized that Red wasn't behind him, he came rushing back. Red's body being surrounded by light was an uneasy sight. Worry overcomes him and he stops in front of Red.

"What's wrong with you?!" fear rises in Blue's voice.

"...Sorry, Blue." Blue's eyes widen hearing Red's quiet voice. His mouth is agape. "I kept this to myself for a long time..."

Red rarely talks! T-this must be serious... Is he hurt..? Why would he-

"It looks like... I have to say goodbye..."

Blue froze. He couldn't believe it! Red... saying goodbye? Leaving him? That's our of the question. After everything they've been though... how could he?

"Huh?! Goodbye?!" he comes closer to Red, right in front of his yellow face. Blue tries to wrap his head around this. It's making him become emotional. "What are you saying?!"

As if everything was perfectly normal, Red   was composed as he explained. "Dusknoir told me. If we changed the future... all the Pokémon from the future would disappear. There would be no reason for a human to be here either. That's why... I'm destined to disappear too. I'm... going back to the human world."

"Huh?" Blue was growing frustrated. He blinked away the angry tears beginning to form. "What? Wh-why? I don't understand!"

Red had been preparing for this moment and speaks the words he wanted to say to Blue Temporal Tower. "Thank you for everything. I'm going to disappear from here now... But, Blue... I'll never forget you."

Blue wishes that time would stop again. There's too many things he needs to say to Red, but he doesn't have enough time to. "W-wait a second... I managed to make it all this way because you were with me, Red." he's unable to keep his voice from breaking and the tears from blurring his vision, "Don't you understand...? You made me strong, Red... If you go, Red... I don't know... what I would..."

Red sets his hat on Blue's head. The Eevee's ears droop and the notion is too much to handle. A broken sob escapes his mouth.

"No, Blue. You have to be strong on your own. You have to live!" Red embraces his crying partner. "You have to go home... Tell everyone about what happened here. So that... nothing like this happens ever again."

"Red..." Blue sniffles. Red puts their foreheads together as he light becomes brighter. Blue's little heart is breaking. "Don't, Red! Don't... Don't go..."

Red pulls his head away from Blue. "Thank you for everything, Blue. I'm glad we got to train together at the guild... I'm glad we got to go on adventures together..." Red smiles sadly. "I'm glad... I got to know you, Blue."

"Wait... Red..."

"I'm sorry." Apologizes aren't enough to stop this, but Blue deserves it after Red kept this huge secret from him. "I'm so lucky that you were my friend..."

Blue cries, "I feel the same, Red! To me, Red, you're..." trying to control his breathing, he takes a deep breath. "More important than anything..."

"Yes... I feel the same way." Red closes his eyes, "Blue... Even after I disappear from here... I will never forget you..."

Before Blue is able to say anything else, he watches helplessly as his partner disappears with the light.

"...Red... Red!" Blue's voice cries out in vain. His partner, his one true friend... gone. Never to return. "...Red!!"

Collapsing to the ground, Blue heavily sobbed. He couldn't hold his heartbreak any longer and poured out his grief in a flood of uncontrollable tears.

|||

His cheeks streaked with dry tear tracks and he mumbled incoherent words as he pressed on despite the deep hole in his heart. Each step he took was slow and heavy. The thought of making it home was now lost in his emotions.

"...I have to live... I have to get home alive..." Blue lets out a shaky breath. "...Get home... and tell everyone about what happened. Because it's... Red's... It's Red's... last wish..."

Even at such a slow pace, it isn't long before Blue arrives at the Rainbow Stoneship, the pattern etched onto the stone is phosphorescent. Blue's chin quivered. Chewing on his lower lip, his eyes once again welled up with tears.

"Th-there's..." A tear tickles his cheek. "There's the Rainbow Stoneship..."

He has to force himself to move. So close, yet so far. Before he's able to get on, Blue trips and lies on his face for a couple of moments. With the tiny amount of strength he has left, he picks himself off the ground. It's as if time has stopped again as he trudges onto the stone. He faces the direction of Temporal Tower, in all it's glory.

Finally, the Rainbow Stoneship departs.

And he's slowly distancing himself from the tower. Distancing himself from Red.

Forever.

"Temporal Tower is...getting farther and farther away..."

Silence. Painful silence. Lonely silence.

"And Red..." Blue swiped at his eyes but fresh tears came anyway. "I'm getting farther away from Red..."

Oh, Red... I never got to say that I love you.

[sarakuper]

Santa Marta & Tayrona National Park; the coast of Colombia

Stop #8, January 28-February 5

We arrived in Santa Marta on Tuesday night with little expectation of what Santa Marta had to offer. Blog’s I’ve read had mixed reviews about this city, as were the reviews I heard from friends and other travelers. Either way, we had such an exciting month that took lots of planning up until now, and now we have no plans other than where we are sleeping at night.

We stayed at La Guaca hostel and got a private room. The hostel is really nice and clean and overall just has good vibes! This place quickly became my favorite hostel.

Wednesday was our first full day, and after sleeping in and taking our time with breakfast we headed into town. It turned out to be a really wonderful day. We wandered the streets of Santa Marta, both the touristy and non touristy spots. We picked up fruit and water at the grocery store to help out some of the young Venezuelan refugees in the area. We stopped in a suuuuuuuper hippy dippy cafe that was so beautiful; an entire wall was covered in plants! And, I swear, I recall a waterfall.. and mist spraying from the ceiling. Its so hot here in Santa Marta, the mist was a pleasant surprise! We continued to walk around and then we explored the free gold museum which was actually quite lovely. It showcased the lost golf of the indigenous Taironas. Lastly, we walked along the bay before renting chairs on the beach for the last 2 hours of sunlight. We were continuously asked to buy things from several vendors, but I only said yes to a young pregnant woman selling massages. I’ve been wanting one anyway, and I totally have a soft spot for pregnant women!! She is from Cartagena originally and already has one child, but the competition is too high in Cartagena so they now live in Santa Marta. Once it was over I stripped down to my undies, not expecting to swim today, and went for a dip. Luckily for me I was wearing granny panties so this time my white behind wasn’t blaring at everyone.

About an hour later we starting chatting with the family that rented chairs next to us. They are Colombian, living in Medellin, and are on vacation. It was a husband and wife named Oscar and Elisabeth, and their 18 year old daughter Mariana. The family was immediately welcoming and were really impressed with our Spanish. We talked about our favorite foods in the country and when I mentioned the delicious coconut rice in the caribbean coast, Elisabeth immediately invited me to her house in Medellin to teach me how to cook it. Hers, she says, is way better than any restaurants. :) We ended up hitting it off with this family so well that we exchanged numbers and planned to go to another beach together, the next day.

The next day we met at a bus stop at 11:00am to get on the local bus to Tagana, the neighboring fishing village with their own beach. Once we arrived we chatted with the boat companies at the dock and arranged for a transfer to Playa Grande. The boat ride was about 5 minutes, and we appeared on a blue beach with many other locals and tourists. We spent the day reading, drinking, swimming, and snorkeling with Oscar’s basic snorkel gear. I was so surprised by how many fish there were right along this beach! It was a great day with our new friends, and it was especially enjoyable to experience Santa Marta like locals (from Colombia) instead of gringos :)

For the next day, January 31st, we decided to splurge on a tour to a beach in Tayrona National Park. The park will be closing for the month of February, so unfortunately we won’t have time to explore it. They close every year for one month for restoration, and also so that the indigenous people living there can have time off from the tourists to connect with their roots. Our hostel offers a day trip to one of their many famous beaches, and so thats what we did!

Our early morning transport to Tyrona came at 6am. I slept on most of the journey, but once we finally arrived to the coast we took a boat for about 5 minutes to Playa Crystal. There were more people than I thought there would be, but it was a stunning beach none the less. The water is crystal clear (hence the name), and there was fantastic snorkeling. Sean bought some basic snorkeling gear at the grocery store the night before so we didn’t have to continue paying for rentals. It was a smart move, because even if we don’t take them with us once we leave it still saved us money. We made some friends on this tour as well, a couple from Spain and another Colombian couple that live in England now. We shared the cost of beach chairs in the shade and enjoyed another beautiful day on the beach. This beach was definitely the most beautiful one we were able to visit.

The next day we did absolutely nothing! Well, we actually did a lot of important things, but from bed. We had been so sun kissed and tired from the snorkeling this last week we decided to take the day off! I worked on my Colorado license for teaching, booked our next flights, organized our next hostels, uploaded photos (and worked on my tumblr posts), etc. Sean completed both our applications for a visa extension which was more complicated than it probably should be! He also went food shopping for us, buying lots of guacamole ingredients which I planned to prepare for the Super Bowl. We also both did a ton of Duolingo; we’ve been super into it lately, as its the only Spanish class we have at the moment! It was actually a very productive day, and in the evening we took a taxi to meet our Colombian friends Elisabeth, Oscar, and Mariana, for beers and people watching on a busy strip of beach in Rodadero. We danced, ate, drank, chatted, and really just continued to enjoy each others company!

The next day, Super Bowl Sunday, we slept in, went out for lunch, and then headed back to La Bahia de Santa Marta, the bay of Santa Marta. We met our friends again, swam, played Uno (which they gave us as a gift), and headed back with plenty of time to shower and watch the super-bowl pregame. Did the Super Bowl half time show have a lot of Spanish!? We watched the same show, right!? I thought it was a great coincidence that Shakira was one of the performers, because she is from Colombia! And I also loved how JLo held the Puerto Rican flag during the show. YASSSS QUEEN! 

On Monday we finally made it to Sisiguaca, a tiny beach close to Playa Grande in Taganga that the receptionist at the hostel told us about. We took a boat from Taganga beach about 5 minutes to Sisguaca where we shared a small beach with maybe 15 others. We sat in the shade close to the water, relaxed, and snorkeled. At this point our Colombian friends had flown back to Medellin. They invited us to stay in their home whenever we get back to Medellin; we look forward to seeing them again! Anyway, back to Sisiguaca. I ordered my favorite dish, arroz de coco (coconut rice), with a side of patacones at the tiny restaurant along the shore. The snorkeling was fabulous, as was our quiet surroundings. After throwing the nerf football around as the sun began to set, we headed back to Taganga via boat and then bus to Santa Marta. 

As per usual, we stopped at the grocery store on the way home to pick up some ingredients for our go-to dinner at “home”... pasta! But by this point we’ve gotten into the habit of buying water and bananas for the Venezuelan refugees seeking help outside the grocery store. Its became part of our routine in Santa Marta. Bottles of water and bananas/some other food is the least we could do and cost very little. The women with their baby girls were always happy to see us, as was this one disabled man that Sean helped out, every time we visited the store.

Next stop is Minca where we plan to stay for 4 nights before coming back to Santa Marta for a flight.

Thanks for reading fam, love you all. <3

[luc1xx0]

This is kind of a long story, so buckle up kids!

I’m pretty sure that I posted a backstory to my comic that Imma delete, but here is an updated version:

 First off: What you already know about the Ink Machine and other details which btw is not my portion of the story, but actually goes to thebbros (that's not a link)

Basically, the ink machine was used to cure people of the ink illness a very long time ago. Once people didn’t need it anymore, it was considered useless, therefore people just allowed the ink machine to slowly but surely break down. 

Fast forward to several centuries later, two fools who were known as the Cup-bros make a dumbass bet to the Devil and lose. They had the choice to either die or to bring back the ink illness. Of course, they go with the second option, and a lot of people start dying because of them. The devil’s power was limited to 50 people a year, so he started spreading it. A lot of people were catching ink illness and dying. Chaos arose and everyone was losing their minds.

 That’s like literally the most inconvenient time for the ink machine to stop running.

 People needed it, but even though they knew its position, nobody knew how to actually repair it. Then, you meet B-bros. Bendy and Boris: Two mechanics and non-blood related brothers who knew what pieces were required to make the ink machine to operate properly. The only problem is that the pieces mysteriously scattered all throughout the land. Bendy gave up and tried to ignore it until he got the ink illness; coincidence I think not! After a lot of crying and praying, an angel gave Boris a map that would assist him while looking for the pieces. Only he and Bendy could see it so there was no point in asking for help. They both went about on their quest to find the pieces, but they didn’t know that they pissed off the Devil. He had no power to stop this, but still had a connection to the Cup-bros, so he lied and told them that he would kill them if they did not stop Bendy and Boris. So then THEY went to complete their task.

And done! With the first section of the story which was just a review for y‘all babtqftim fans. Now, this is part of my story:

Aniya was walking through the park, as she always does during her work breaks. The trees remind her of a forest; Aniya really likes forests because they could be holding any secret in there, like what kind of mystical or non-mystical creatures could be roaming around. She walked to the table closest to the trees and sits there for a few minutes. As she is about to leave, Aniya noticed something on the ground; it was round, smooth, and seems to be glowing. Just out of curiosity, Aniya picked it up and took it with her. 

But what was it?

Answer: Aniya unknowingly took a piece of the Scepter with her. What she found originates back to over a millennium ago. Four sisters shared a medieval kingdom, surrounded by a huge forest where people have believed mystical animals lived there. The Scepter was placed in the heart of the kingdom to show that they claim this land. The Scepter had a beautiful gem that consisted of multiple colors, and at some point of the day, the sun would be perfectly aligned with it.

 The sisters fought all by themselves against demonic creatures, day and night. At the time, they were at their worst, flying and crawling around giving people the most traumatizing horrors that would make them want to just end it all and forget everything that ever happened in their memories. 

At some point in time, they became weak and did not have enough strength to defeat all of these beasts, so they scattered throughout the kingdom, and into people’s heads. The rest of the story goes that people killed themselves and the princesses were kept as hostages. It was a corrupt age, but ultimately, most of the demons died off, and it is very uncommon to see one now. Yet if you did, they are much tamer, and you could not blame them for what their ancestors did. Today, nobody knows what happened to the four siblings, and that will probably remain a puzzle.

The Scepter is still in its place, and is actually now a bit of a tour of the kingdom! Of course, its gems were damaged and fragmented. They went darting in every direction as they molded themselves into amulets. It’s like they have been waiting for the right person ever since. Soon enough there will be the chosen ones, who will help restore harmony and bring people back home. It’s basically like being a superhero; it could be anyone in the world, or they could be standing right in front of you.

Let’s fast forward again!

Aniya has gone home and still doesn’t know that she is not just holding a weird toy.. until it starts gleaming red again. The glowing was not prominent in the middle of the day, but by the time Aniya got home it was night and she did not know what to do when this happened.

She pushes this all aside after she starts coughing a lot. 

At first, Aniya just thought she was seeing things, but then she realized that she was coughing up actual INK. She got very scared because she did not want to feel pain. To bad for her because every last second of that night was a never-ending hell for Aniya. The poor thing was home alone with a dead battery on her phone. She even built up tears, and she never cries.

 Suddenly somebody thrust open the door, and it’s Evey (thank god!!!!). She hears wailing from upstairs and runs as fast as she can to find Aniya on the floor, choking on ink. Holyyyyy shit is how you would describe her reaction. She panicked, but then grabbed a bunch of towels and water and proceeded to clean up Aniya. The ink faded off, and Evey calmed her down put Aniya to bed.

Edit: Even though there were only four sisters who possessed the crystals, part of the power from the tiny broken pieces of them could possibly be inherited by other people. That’s what could possibly make a whole team of heroes that will end the threats.

And there you go! A refreshed version of the backstory! I swear to god I am deleting the original one because this one is so much better! Damn this took like an hour to make. Anyways, I’m so sorry I could not make any art right now. I could try to make paper art, but digital art is just so much better quality. You guys should let me know what you think. If you made it to the end of this post, I hope you have a good night!

 BTW the start of the comic takes place the day after all of this shit.

[smallerinfinities]

Dressing Room

a/n: In which adrenaline is the best aphrodisiac.

This came about talking to @shawnmendessmut18 over this post! THE THIRST WAS REAL. It also happens to coincide with reaching 700 followers today! 🎉 THAT’S INSANE. 

|| MASTERLIST ||

warnings: 2.5K of filthy festival smut. 

The roar of the crowd shook the foundation of the festival stage, putting a beautifully loud finish on the set. You couldn’t believe how powerful it had been. They knew every word to every song and sang them back to Shawn like their lives depended on it. You weren’t even on stage and yet you could feel the overwhelming intensity of it, an explosion of energy pulsing through you. Running off stage, Shawn crashed into you, breathless. He wrapped his arms around you, making you erupt in a fit of giggles.

“Shawn!” you gasped as he lifted you off the ground and spun you around, “that was incredible!” You could feel his sweaty brow pressed against your neck as he breathed you in. “Shawn, you have to go meet with your people now, do some quick press,” you brushed the sweaty curls at the nape of his neck, not wanting this moment to end but knowing it had to. He put you back on your feet, sliding your body all the way down his front and making sure you felt the hardness growing in his tight jeans.

“Okay, okay, let me do this real quick,” he said nonchalantly, bringing his lips to brush against your ear, “but don’t fucking move until I get back.” You stifled your moan with a choked giggle and pushed him away from you.

You watched him as he walked around, everyone clapping him on the back in congratulations on a great set. He laughed with Zubin and Mike; he bumped fists with Andrew. You enjoyed watching him be celebrated, thinking about your own private celebration that was sure to come later.

Every so often he would catch your eye, his gaze momentarily darkening. The heat from these split-second connections was building. You could feel it in your lower abdomen, desire slowly churning into an all out fire in your belly. By the time he was done reveling, purposefully walking toward you, you could feel the moisture starting to pool between your legs.

Without speaking, he grabbed your hand, pulling you roughly toward his dressing room. It wasn’t three seconds after you walked in the door before you were pushed against the wall, his hands rough on your body. His sweaty, musky scent filled your senses, you could practically taste him in the air. His hands were everywhere—grazing your ribs, grabbing your arms, floating across your breasts. Your breath hitched as his fingers skimmed your nipples, your teeth catching your bottom lip and suppressing a deep moan.

“Come on, baby. I know you want to moan for me,” Shawn teased, humming along your throat, placing his lips at the base of it but not moving them. He nipped at the skin, flicking his tongue out to wet the space there. You bit your lower lip harder, refusing to give in to his provocations.

He opened his mouth and gently began to suck, running his hands down your arms and lifting them above you. He secured your wrists in one of his massive hands while he increased the suction on your throat. You knew he was leaving a mark there on purpose, wanting everyone to know you were his. When he released your skin he admired your neck, pleased with the bruising flesh as he gave it one last lick with the flat of his tongue.

A guttural moan escaped your lips as you ripped your hands free from his grasp and tangled your fingers in his curls. You hauled his head up to yours and kissed him deeply, tilting your head and granting him access to your mouth. Your tongues moved together, massaging and licking, as his hands roamed up and down your sides. He tugged on your bottom lip with his teeth, making you hiss in pleasure pain.

“Shawn,” you breathed, pressing your forehead against his, “I need you.” He smirked, running his tongue across his top lip. He played with the hem of your red cotton dress, inching the fabric upward and lightly running his fingers along the outside of your thighs. Catching you off guard, he grabbed your ass and lifted you up off the ground, pinning you between the wall and his hips. You could feel his cock, rigid and straining in his pants, against your dripping heat.

“Oh, yeah? How do you need me, babe?” he asked, rolling his hips into you. Your eyes rolled back and you dropped your head to his shoulder. He gripped your dress and pulled it up and over your head, leaving you in white lace and a pair of black fuck-me pumps. Not to be outdone, you ran your hands down and back up his chest, grabbing his lapels and quickly jerking your hands apart. Buttons scattered as the shirt fluttered to the floor and Shawn let out a low growl, “I liked that shirt.”

“You asked how I needed you, and I need you naked,” you purred, leaning down to his ear to whisper, “with your mouth on me.” His eyes went from honey to dark chocolate at your innuendo. Taking a hold of your ass again, he carried you to the vanity set against a mirror that spanned the entire wall.

He stepped back and undressed, removing his boots, socks, and skinny jeans, leaving him in only a pair of boxer briefs. You reached out for him, catching his waistband and pulling him in for a kiss. He reached behind you and unclasped your bra, immediately replacing it with his hands. Your tongues danced while he massaged your full breasts, grazing your bare nipples with his rough fingertips. They hardened on contact, making you gasp into his mouth. He smiled against your skin, loving the sounds he was forcing from you, but wanting more.

You moved to kick off your shoes, but Shawn grabbed your ankle, halting the motion. “Leave the shoes,” he said, gruffly. Pulling your hips to the edge of the vanity, he placed one of his massive hands in the center of your chest.

“Now, lean back, baby. I wanna taste you.” You moaned deeply at his words as your back settled against the tabletop, the cool temperature making you wince slightly. Shawn’s hands hovered at your hips, teasing the edges of your panties. You sighed in frustration, “Shawn, fucking rip them if you have to.”

If you didn't know better, you could swear his eyes turned black. Without hesitation, he fisted the material in his hand and yanked it from you, the bite of the fabric ripping against your skin making you cry out. The action snapped something in Shawn. You could tell, that where before he had been holding back, now all of his restraint had disintegrated. Kneeling on the floor, he roughly spread your legs open for him.

“So beautiful,” he whispered, peppering the inside of your thighs with kisses, “all mine.” Flattening his tongue against you, he licked a wet stripe from your entrance to your clit. Your hands immediately clutched at his curls, fingers braiding into the soft ringlets. He lapped at your clit, his tongue swirling around your bundle of nerves. You squirmed underneath him, sensation radiating from your center, as you struggled to keep your legs open, feeling them involuntarily start to close against his head. He grunted against your heat, wrapping his arms around your thighs, keeping you wide open for him.

He came up for air, chin glistening with your natural wetness. He looked up and past you, into the mirror, and smiled at the reflection. In it, he not only saw you laid out before him, chest flushed and hair draped across the table, but he saw himself, curls mussed and wild with the evidence of your pleasure reflecting on his face. You looked to see what had caught his eye, landing on the mirror and moaning loudly. You draped your arm over your eyes, too overwhelmed to watch.

“No, baby. I want you to watch what I'm about to do to you,” he said, pulling your arm down and threading his fingers through yours. With his other hand, he slowly pushed two fingers into you, spreading your walls. He pumped in and out of you in a smooth, glacial pace. It was maddening. You tightened your grip on his hand, signaling your frustration.

“Shawn, harder,” you mewled, thrusting your hips toward his fingers to increase the tempo.

“I’ll go as hard as you want as long as you look in the mirror,” he bargained, pointing toward your reflection with your clasped hands. You met his eyes in the mirror, then followed them down toward the apex of your thighs where he continued to leisurely pump.

“Harder, I want to see you sweat for it,” you commanded, needing more friction. Shawn picked up his tempo and slid another finger inside, stretching you further. You brought your knees up and dug the heels of your shoes into the edge of the table, angling his fingers deeper into you. He curled his knuckles, pushing his fingertips into your front walls and pulsing your g-spot, like he knew drove you wild.

“Oh fuck,” he cursed. You watched his brow furrow in the mirror with effort, sweat starting to bloom and run down his rosy cheeks as you moaned with abandon. Your knees started to shake, a tell-tale sign of your impending release, back arching up off the table. Sensing the coming wave, Shawn applied direct pressure to your clit with his thumb and held it there. When his eyes zeroed in on yours in the mirror, it was all over.

Your world shattered in a roaring orgasm. The force of it drove your upper body up off the table, clawing at his back. He rocked you through the waves of pleasure, whispering sweet nothings in your ear in a close embrace. “That’s my girl,” he breathed against your temple, “come down for me.”

He gradually pulled his fingers from you  and brought them to his mouth, sucking them clean of your essence. He moaned around them, enjoying your sweet taste. Reeling from the loss, you wrapped yourself around him, nuzzling his neck.

“Shawn, fuck, that was so good,” you hummed, softly nipping at his collar bone. You accidentally skimmed the front of his boxer briefs and he hissed, “shit, baby, I’m sensitive.”

Cocking an eyebrow at him, you ran the back of your hand down the front of the strained fabric. He sucked in a breath as you dipped your hand inside, freeing his now painfully hard cock and hearing it smack against his lower abdomen. You pushed the offending clothing down his legs and he kicked them aside. You peeked up at him, a coy smile playing on your lips. Taking his rigid cock in your hand, you spread the precum leaking from his pink tip and roughly stroked him.

He gasped, leaving his mouth open in a silent shout, as his eyes shut tight, crinkling at the corners, “oh, fuck, baby. Not too hard, I want to last for you.”  

As he leaned his head back, savoring the sensation, you licked a trail up his throat and over his Adam’s apple. He was panting, trembling, holding back as best he could, waiting to really enjoy it until he was inside you. His hands came down around yours, stilling your motions.

“I...I want….I need….you to let me inside,” he heaved, still fighting the urge to buck his hips into your hand. You could feel the muscles in his thighs twitching with the effort as you spread for him, welcoming him between your legs. Resting his forehead against yours, he gently ran his rosy tip along your slit, lining himself up with your entrance.

He pushed inside you, using every bit of his control, taking measured breaths. When he bottomed out, you both moaned in unison, pausing to look at each other. You cupped his jaw, drawing his face to yours, sealing the moment with a searing kiss, stoking the fire between you to a fever pitch.

Without looking away, Shawn pulled almost all the way out of you before slamming back in.

“Oh, God!” you cried, falling back onto the table. He worked himself into a steady, punishing tempo, pulling and pushing, in and out. You looked up to the mirror and watched him working you over. It was like an out-of-body experience. You felt everything he was doing, every blessed stroke that stretched your walls, every time he grazed your sides with his fingertips. But, seeing yourself in the mirror, flushed and quivering, hair frizzing with the sweat of your exertion—it seemed like it was happening to someone else, someone mythical—Aphrodite and her Adonis. He doted on you with his movements, using his strong arms and thick thighs as perfect leverage against your body, perfectly choreographed and attuned to your pleasure alone. The sensuality of the moment was overwhelming, even though he was fucking the hell out of you.

He ran his hand down the outside of one of your legs and pulled it up over his shoulder. The changed angle allowed him deeper than before, increasing the pleasure ten-fold. You could feel your release building again at the base of your abdomen. The veins in his neck bulged with the weight of his restraint.

“Fuck, baby...are...you...close?” he asked between thrusts, sweat rolling freely down his chest. His grip on your hips was going to leave purple bruises, trophies of his conquest.

“Wait...for me….Jesus, fuck….I want...to come...with you,” you answered, snaking your hand between the two of you. You rubbed rough circles around your clit, getting yourself to the brink, almost ready to fall. It wasn’t until Shawn brought his head down to your breast, taking your nipple between his teeth and biting down, that you flew off the edge. Your vision went blind in a sheet of white, overexposed and then oversaturated. All you could hear was a high-pitched ringing and the continued slapping of skin.

You came back to your senses just in time to watch his beautiful face break with his orgasm, his cock twitching inside you and spilling his come in thick, hot spurts. His erratic thrusts eventually became soft strokes until he was spent. He leaned over your shivering body and placed a single open-mouthed kiss on your shoulder. When he pulled out, you hissed at the loss, suddenly feeling incomplete without him inside you. He walked over to the sink and wet a washcloth, ever the attentive boyfriend, and pressed it against your heat.

“Goddamn,” he said, tossing the towel aside when he was done, “I wish I played a crowd that live everyday if it meant I could have you like that every night.” He picked you up off the table, holding your still recovering body against his chest, and walked you over to the couch. He sat with you in his lap, resting his chin on the top of your head, as you pulled a blanket over the two of you.

“Babe, you can have me like that anytime,” you taunted, caressing the base of his throat with your nose and inhaling his scent—musk and sweat and sex. “You don’t have to ask, just take.”

Feedback is always appreciated! ❤️

[marvel-witch]

No Hope

Summary: People start disappearing left and right on your walk home from school. Tony calls you and breaks the bad news. 

Peter x fem!reader

One-shot

Warnings: Mental breakdown 

Word Count: 1822

It started off as a normal day, but of course Peter had to go check out some alien spaceship. You kicked a pebble off the sidewalk as you walked home from school. The sun was shinning and the skies were a beautiful light blue. You sigh staring up at the sky. It would be nice to be at the park with Peter, trying to figure out what each cloud looked like. It was a perfect day for that. It never happened anymore it seemed like, ever since Tony Stark took him to Germany. It wasn’t even his fight to be fighting! 

You took a deep breath. You weren’t mad at Tony for this. He was such a nice man. Hell, you weren’t even upset with Peter. You just worried about him. You just missed your boyfriend. Your sneakers were dragging against the concrete. You noticed your shoe was untied, and bent down to retie it. As you were about to stand back up, loud crashing noises could be heard along with screaming. Car horns blared through your ears making you cringe. Quickly you whipped your head back up only to be met with what seemed like the impossible. 

Cars smashed into one another, people running all over the place screaming. One person in particular caught your eye. You blinked several times as he turned to dust, blowing away in the wind. That’s when you noticed how much dust was around you. No. This can’t be happening. What even is happening? You stopped breathing as you thought of Peter. This can’t be because of what he followed into space, can it? 

Your breathing seemed to speed up. You were inhaling so fast that it was like you were drowning. Peter. It has to be connected it can’t be a coincidence. Trying to steady yourself, you reached for the lamp post that was next to you but you missed. Sending you flying face first into the ground. Into a pile of dust. You scrambled to your feet, rubbing it off your face. Tears stung your eyes. Before your brain could react your legs did. Your hair flying behind you as you ran straight to the only person who could comfort you. 

Knocking like a mad woman with your heart beating so loud you swear everyone could hear it. The door swung open so fast to reveal a teary eyed May Parker. “Y/N, come in.” She sniffled. Instead of walking past her you engulfed her in a rough hug. “May, is he here?” Your voice soft and shaky as you spoke. A strangled cry left her lips. That was all the answer you needed. You stood there holding each other for what seemed like hours, both of you sobbing. 

You laid in Peter’s bottom bunk of his bed holding onto his pillow with all your strength. May went out to get some food for the both of you and to try and check in with work, but who knows how that will go. You had spent most nights at the Parker household since you and Peter became close. Your own home life not being ideal. The wind outside banging against the window begging to be let in. You sighed holding back tears. “Peter, where are you?” The tears came rushing down your cheeks. You sniffled, noticing the shirt that was hung over Peter’s desk chair. The same shirt he wore when you first met three years ago. 

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

“Ned, I am telling you the new movies just aren’t the same.” You sighed, adjusting the backpack strap on your shoulder. “That doesn’t mean they aren’t good! The original trilogy is the best, but we have to acknowledge the new movies could have a changing point to everything we know about Star Wars!” Ned says waving his arms around like a mad man. You laughed, “I mean you are totally right. I am just a sucker for the original and you know that.” School had just ended, and as you and Ned did every Thursday you were going to have a video game tournament. But now he wanted to spend the time rewatching some of the new Star Wars movies. 

As you were about to challenge Ned again the one and only Peter Parker walks up. Ned and Peter were best friends, and seeing as Ned was your best friend one would think you were Peter’s too. Nope. You instantly blushed dropping one of the books that you were holding. “Hey Ned!” He flashed his perfectly white teeth. “Hey, Pete! I forgot I invited Peter to hang out with us Y/N, is that okay?” You noticed the sly smirk Ned had on his face and you wanted to slap it into next week. “Oh um yeah..” You stuttered looking everywhere but at Peter. 

Ned knew you thought Peter was the most attractive guy you had ever seen. Which is why you couldn’t ever hang out with him. You were too scared to. Ned knew exactly what he was doing. “Y/N, it’s awesome to finally get to talk to you! Ned talks about you all the time!” You awkwardly nodded in response to Peter. Peter suddenly reaches forward and wraps you in a friendly hug. You weren’t expecting it and shriek with your cheeks instantly burning bright red. Peter jumps back bumping into Ned. “Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you weren’t a hugger. I’m big on hugs.” Peter quickly rambled the slightest pink dusting his cheeks.                                ------------------------------------

It had been two days since you last saw Peter. It was like the world had stopped spinning outside. Barely any stores or businesses were opened. There was almost no one on the streets or sidewalks, and in New York that never happens. You hadn’t even moved from your spot on Peter’s bed. Only moving to use the bathroom. May had tried to get you to come out, even laid in the bed with you as you both cried but you weren’t moving. Luckily Ned had called you and he was alright. So you still had your best friend, and his mother. The empty hole in your soul seemed to weigh you down. 

You could picture Peter’s smile right now. Just thinking about his smile made you feel a little more warm inside. You let a small giggle slip past your lips. Peter was always a little awkward around you, but you had always thought it was just part of his personality. Which it is. Yet, it seemed to be ten times worse around you. You remembered when you finally had to be the one to ask him out. To think you, the girl who couldn’t even talk to him, asked him out! 

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

It was Saturday night game night at Peter’s, but Ned couldn’t make it. He was too sick to even leave bed. Game night had to go on though, throughout the last two years of your friendship with Peter no one had ever cancelled game night. Even when Peter was working his double life as Spider-man. Your shoulders seemed to hang lower on your small frame tonight. Must be because Ned isn’t here. Peter was lazily slouched into the couch with his feet up on the table. You were sitting next to him in a much more stiff position. You could feel the welcoming warmth radiating off his body. “Y/N?” Peter’s voice broke you from the trance like state you were stuck in. 

“Hmm?” Meeting his eyes with your own. That’s when you noticed that he had an eyebrow raised in questioning. “You stopped playing.” He paused, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed nervously. His lips seemed so pink. The lingering gazes. Small brushes of fingertips when walking next to each other. You knew it was no accident when that happened. Your eyes couldn’t leave his lips. He seemed to know you were staring at them too. He swiped his tongue across his bottom lip. Peter’s lips now glistening in the dim lighting. “A-Are you alright?” You noticed his cheeks were pink, and his stutter made him adorable. 

The night’s Peter would stay up with you talking on the phone not caring how tired he would be the next day. How Peter and May welcomed you with open arms to stay with them anytime you needed a place to go, which was a lot. The hugs Peter gave you that you could swear would last longer than his normal hugs. The way he made you smile and forget the terrible world around you. You smiled. In a flash of a second your cold fingertips were holding Peter’s cheeks. His face burning a bright red now. Your eyes met his, and the gaze held passion. Then you smashed your lips against his. You were ice cold, but once you met Peter’s lips. You were a fire that you were sure couldn’t ever go out. 

Peter gasped taking a while to react. Once he did react you could feel him melting into your touch. In a swift, effortless movement Peter had you on his lap. His fingers gripping your waist. You pulled back, licking your lips. Peter looked like he had stars in his eyes. “That was a-amazing.” You blushed waving him off. You mindlessly played with some of his hair while you still sat in his lap. “Peter, do you want to go on a date with me?” He instantly pulled you flush against his chest. A sudden boost of confidence seemed to fill him. “I thought you would never ask, babe.” 

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

You snapped out of your memories with a loud ringing echoing the quiet bedroom. You picked it up without checking who it was. “Hello?” “Y/N...” A familiar shaky voice replied. “Tony! Where the hell are you? Everyone thought you were dead.” You ran your fingers through you hair several times. “Space. That’s not the poi-” Quickly you stood up and started pacing. “He went with you. Didn’t he?” You were gnawing on your bottom lip. You could barely make out a strangled cry and sniffle. “T-Tony?” The deep sigh gave you chills. “Peter...he...he’s gone.” Your vision became hazy. “N-No.” It was all you could manage to breathe out. You figured it was the case. But hearing it? It seems like a nightmare. “He t-turned to dust.” Tony’s voice soft. 

Your knees gave out underneath you. You couldn’t believe the words you were hearing. You can’t hear what Tony’s saying as the phone falls on the floor next to you. Vaguely you can tell May has rushed into the room. You can hear her talking and a muffled Tony, but you can’t make out any words. Her cries echo in your ears like a bad song. Half the universe. That’s all you can make out. If Peter’s gone, then who knows what other enhanced beings have been wiped away. There’s no hope left in the universe. 

[tipsforthecloseteddevotee]

Sermon Time

Or perhaps a lecture? Either way, let me warn you: This is going to be largely stream of consciousness here. This isn't planned out, it won't be edited, and it will jump all over the place. If you follow any of my other blogs, you will notice this is when I do my best stuff. Sorry in advance. But this needs to be said.

Ok lovely ones here's the thing. I have seen many posts by many pagans that I admire and respect that effectively boil down to "Those signs from the Gods aren't always a sign from the Gods'. And I'm not here to say they are wrong. I think they're right. But...

But.

They aren't right either.

We all do it. I do it, my best friend (and the pagan that I admire most. Seriously, I go to her for advice All. The. Time.) does it, the most skeptical pagan at least thinks about it for a second before dismissing it with a scoff. You see the perfect image through the trees, you find a feather on the ground, a wild animal makes eye contact with you for a crazy long time before turning away and walking into the darkness. You gasp, clutch your hand to your chest and think, "how wonderful! A sign from <insert appropriate God here>!"

These well meaning Tumblr posts will tell you that, no, it wasn't. It was just a beautiful coincidence. You believe them. You do. I mean, really, there are so many worshippers out there, the Gods don't have time to drop a feather at your feet, or gift you with that perfect image, or refract the light just so for you to see Their image every day. And honestly, you see something that you think is a gift almost every day, right? But what about the other worshippers? They are getting gifts with the same frequency. If you think about it from a human standpoint... this is impossible! How can two people (or ten, or one thousand...) get a different gift/sign at almost the exact same time?

But yet we still do it.

Just today, I was texting with @vitaminpusher and we referenced signs from the Gods twice in about an hour. I kept seeing something for the past couple days and I said I was "destined" and she said the Gods were "teasing" me. Then not even half an hour later, we were at it again, when I told her the Gods were telling her to do something. I also do it with feathers. Every single feather I see, I pick it up with a wide smile and mentally thank whichever God pops in my head first. Then it goes on my altar. I have an impressive collection now. But here's the thing... I have a tree in front of my porch that is frequented by many different birds and squirrels every single day. So yes, there are a LOT of feathers that I will see when I step off my porch.

Think about it this way: You buy a Honda Accord. Before you bought this Accord, you would swear you had not seen an Accord in your town before. And if you did, it was only one or two in the past year. But the second you pull out of the dealer's lot, you are seeing them everywhere! There are three in the parking lot of WalMart. One passes you on the highway. Oh crap! There's another at the stop light! When did your neighbor four houses down get an Accord?! You're seeing them EVERYWHERE! No, everyone didn't suddenly decide to get an Accord the same day you did. There are no more Accords on the road now than the day before. The difference is your awareness of them. To translate that into your faith: Before you became a devotee, when you saw a feather on the ground, you took no notice of it. It was in your awareness and gone in the literal blink of an eye. Or a specific color or flower or whatever you now associate with your God(s). But now, that feather (or rock, or flower, or color, ect) is specific to you in a whole new way. So every time you see one, rather than your mind dismissing it as detritus to ignore, you think of the God it is associated with. Because your mind immediately screamed that God's name (even subconsciously), you focus even more and the connection is made. Item on ground + God's name = Gift/Sign from said God.

This is where I start to not necessarily disagree with others, but to... expand and change the view a little.

This connection that is so easily made isn't a bad thing. No, it may not be a sign from your Gods. But then again it may be. Yes, not all things are a sign. But that doesn't mean that nothing is. Time isn't linear for our Gods. I am going to use the Norse as an example because those are the Gods I am most connected with. If time was linear for Them, how could Baldr be both dead, and speaking with His devotees? How can Loki be bound and tortured and also consoling His follower? How can he appear as a scar-lipped man to you last week and as a young, scar-free man today? Because time does not have the same concept to the Gods as it does to us. Time is more Whovian to them. Loki is both bound and free, scarred and not, all at once. Sigyn is both holding the bowl and rocking her sons. Baldr is both alive and resting in Helheim. Ragnarok has already happened, and is yet to happen.

So yes, the Gods do have the "time" to send you a thousands signs every day, and send them to all of Their worshippers as well. They are Santa on steroids.

Do they? Of course not.

Does that mean we should dismiss these things we originally interpreted as signs and gifts? Of course not.

Think about it like this. What do you do when you see these signs? You think of your respective deity. You smile fondly. You thank them. If it is a tangible object you can take with you, you cradle the object to you and lovingly place it somewhere you can see every day. And what do you do when you see it again? You start the cycle over. You think of your God, you smile, you thank Them. What is this action? It's devotion. It is worship. It is exactly what the Gods want.

It doesn't matter if They sent it to you or not, the result is still the same. It causes a small act of prayer to that God. If the object ends up on the altar, it becomes an offering to that God. And every time it is seen by you, you once again think of that God and send another prayer. That is what a genuine sign is meant to do: "Think of Me and give thanks". Genuine sign or not, the result is the same.

Giving signs to all followers, all day every day, is not something our Gods want to do. No, it isn't a strain for them, but damn it would get boring. There are plenty of other things They could be doing. (Hermes might be a messenger, but I know He would bash Himself over the head in boredom with all the messages I have attributed to Him over the years. I mean really?! Spiders dancing around every. single. day? He must be bored to tears by now!) So why not let us do some of the work ourselves? They give a little nudge: "Hey, associate this common thing you come across fairly often with Me." And boom! Instant devotional act on the regular. Easy. And everyone is happy. You feel that little thrill when you think of the God you adore, and They get that little prayer/devotional act.

So no. Your Gods aren't sending you little presents on the daily. Keep that in the back of your mind if you want. Throw the notion out the window and keep believing that they are. In the end, it matters not a single bit. But do keep thinking of your Gods when you see those things. Give thanks to Them when you see it. Use them as visual reminders to think of your Gods.

Thank your Gods for being in your life in the smalls ways as much as They are in the big ways.

[marvelidiot]

Romanogers Fic Recommends

!!UPDATED!! 07/14/20

can also be found here: marvelidiot.tumblr.com/Romaongersfics

Hey there! I made this because I want to share these awesome gems and gifted writers. Stay awesome and will always be happy reading your works! :)

Thank you @miss_LulaMae on twitter for her recommendations as well!

If you have more recommendations to add, feel free to message me on twitter @marvelidiot

COMPLETE MULTI-CHAPTERS

Calm Before The Storm by i-am-the-fandoms (31/31) Natasha Romanoff is changing and it’s because of Steve Rogers. Was she falling in love or it is only for children. And what does Steve think? Falling in love has never been crazier. Set after AoU

Natasha’s Diary by MarthaDanielle (9/9) Captain America isn’t afraid of anyone. Except Natasha, with reason. All the Avengers have a respect for her out of fear. What happens when Steve stumbles upon something he wasn’t supposed to?

See You in a Minute by Loquatorious (4/4) What if Scott had been delayed just five more minutes before driving to the Avengers Compound? What if Steve and Natasha had a little bit more time to talk? What if the Soldier and the Spy discovered more to their relationship, just in time to see it end? A canon-divergent what-if? story based on the events of Avengers Endgame.

Dust to Dust (We've Been Lonely Too Long) by myloveiamthespeedofsound (10/10) A series of connected one shots in which Natasha and Steve see how long they can maintain that they're just friends who happen to sleep together before they realize they're complete morons and might be a little bit in love with each other.

Fairy Tale Life by miko (9/9) Faced with a choice between sending Natasha into a dangerous situation alone, or posing as her newly-wed husband, Steve knows there's only one thing he can do. Even if it means faking some things he never thought he'd do with anyone but his real best girl. Even if it means crossing a line he shouldn't be crossing when it comes to his feelings for Natasha. Problem is, there's one more little detail about this mission Natasha 'forgot' to mention... and it might just change both their lives forever.

I'm Dying to Catch My Breath by chalantness (3/3) She remembers sitting with him like this a year ago, in another guest bedroom, and no, she doesn't believe in fate. But she doesn't believe in coincidences, either.

IN-PROGRESS MULTI-CHAPTERS

Muscle Memory by heyfrenchfreudiana Steve and Natasha are fake married for an undercover mission that goes wrong. When both wake up, any memories of who they are or what they were doing have been erased. The only thing that they do know is that they are both wearing wedding rings.If we both have amnesia, and all we have are our feelings, could we start a life together? If we don’t have to run away to forget the world, could we have a piece of happiness just the two of us?

The Domestic Life of Mr. and Mrs. Rogers by Spanglecap Being an Avenger is pretty incredible. Being in love through it all? Even more so. These are snapshots of Steve and Natasha as they build a life and a family together and fall more and more for each other every day.

Training Montage by liquidCaliban Steve wants to try a little new age management where the Avengers have to spend a day training like their teammates. Natasha is already over that noise, but she’s got something up her sleeve of death.

Can’t Pretend by ultrona Steve and Nat start their history during “Captain America: The Winter Soldier”.

ONE-SHOTS

Alone (I’m here for you) by  qwertyuiopkjhgfdssazxcvbnm Post Civil War. “And I can guess how much she means to you.” Bucky has a talk with Steve on the quinjet as they leave for Siberia about a certain red head.  "She… I… I care about her.“

Sam Assumed by LiquidCaliban Sam makes his first visit to Avengers’ Tower, where he discovers that things are not always as they seem, but only before he realized they weren’t. Seemingly. And Tony will never learn to knock.

Amnesiac by LiquidCaliban Steve wakes up one morning with no memory of the past eight years, which is awkward because he has a wife and son. Fortunately, he has the Avengers to get him through some Asgardian-induced amnesia.

Only An Eclipse Away by Asoreleks Two people drift into each other’s lives once again on a quiet afternoon in Brooklyn, New York, light years and a lifetime away from a place called Vormir.

NC-17 ONE-SHOTS

Benefits by 401 (1/1) (NC-17) Steve and Natasha are just friends. Most of the time.

AUs - No superpowers, No super-secret boyband Avengers team (just them as normal humans/ Nat and Steve are OOC on some) (HIGHLY RECOMMENDED)

ONE SHOTS

Runaways by bornatexasgirl (1/1) Steve’s a dreamer, a drifter, never staying in one place for too long. Natalia’s a small town good girl, who wants nothing more to escape the life she has, where everything is planned and nothing is her own. He thinks she’s crazy for wanting a guy like him. She thinks he needs her. Turns out, they’re both right.

(NC-17) One Shots

I’m On Fire by myloveiamthespeedofthesound (1/1) (NC-17) Steve is a photographer, Natasha is his subject for the day. He’s got a big boy crush, and maybe she might like him a little bit too, but Steve’s an idiot and the likelihood of him figuring that one out is about as likely as pigs flying.

After the Encore by beezyland (1/1) (NC-17) Guitar strings aren’t all he’s stroking.

COMPLETE MULTI-CHAPTERS (Worth the read. I swear!)

Invocation by mylifeisloki (9/9) Steve Rogers is just trying to cope with life after the army. The last thing he expects is to find salvation in the arms of a beautiful stranger he meets at a cafe.

Making Use of The Weekend by Phoebe_Snow (7/7) AU. Natasha gets more than she bargains for when a cute little dog named Bucky ruins her tomato garden and his handsome owner, Steve, walks into her life.

It Could Happen To You by Phoebe_Snow (4/4) Natasha keeps running into Steve at the most embarrassing times. It’s really a shame because he seems like a sweet guy, but he must think she’s a total moron after all of the awkward and inappropriate moments they’ve shared.

Stay by thegraytigress (23/23) On the surface, he’s a disabled war vet and she’s his new neighbor. On the surface, they’re both okay, surviving, working, living. But beneath his apathy, he’s broken, bleeding, and drowning in his pain and loneliness. Underneath her smiles, she’s lost, terrified, and trying to find a new start. Maybe it’s fate that she moves in and he finds her. And maybe falling in love is their chance to heal.

Just A Blast From The Past by InNeedOfInspirationn(13/13) Natasha watches Steve die and decides to use a time travel device from Asgard to go back in 1942 and prevent Bucky from turning into the Winter Soldier. Forbidden to meddle with the past because it could affect the future, she changes her appearance and introduces herself under a false identity. But as they grow close, Natasha finds it harder and harder to resist the charm of Steve from 1942.

A Hundred Worlds by InitialA (23/23) And I’d choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I’d find you and I’d choose you.”

At First Glance by mocking words (3/3) ‘our flats are opposite each other and your kitchen window faces my kitchen so we always see each other making coffee at 3am’ AU?

We Never Go Out of Style by mylifeisloki (8/8) Inspired by ‘Style’, by Taylor Swift. Steve is a bad boy who can’t be tied down, but Natasha’s not like anyone he’s ever seen before. Together, they go through life, love, and loss- not necessarily in that order.

Two Halves of a Soul by xo_stardust720 It was strange how quickly his world had changed in a span of a few hours. He’d gone from sleeping peacefully in bed, to fighting a fire, to finding his soulmate.

Pot Meet Kettle (7/7) by heyfrenchfreudiana When Natasha Romanoff asked Steve Rogers for help in Statistics, he almost said ‘no’. He thought about all of the things he would rather do and he how he would honestly rather have gone to the dentist than “help” a girl who he figured was about as deep as the puddles outside his dorm room after a rain.

Love, Nat by joelleeee (5/5) Nastasha and Steve grew up together and have been best friends ever since. They are inseparable, but since their last year of high school, their friendship begins to diverge. But the fact that both of them are going away for college leaves so much room for the unknown and unpredictable future that their surfacing feelings are making it even more difficult. They continue to journey through their lives separately and together; however, somehow their lives and feelings keep intertwining themselves together inevitably.

Meet me Halfway by choi_kimmy (5/5) “Steve got himself a potential pen-pal from the future.” Bucky offers an explanation, his tone a mock exaggeration. Steve darts another glare at his best friend who is clearly having too much fun teasing him. In other words; Natasha quits her job, moves back into the city and suddenly she is communicating through a magical mailbox that clearly transcends time with a guy named Steve who claims to be living two years in the past. Can the new year get any weirder?

For Whose Love I Rise and Fall by Yeetmeaway (27/27) In 1943 Hydra unleashes a deadly virus in its quest to create a new world order-- one that turns its hosts into vampire-like creatures. 75 years later, humanity is on the brink of extinction, protected only by the hunters of SHIELD. Natasha has already lost so much to this-- they are fighting a losing battle and everyone can feel it. But, for the first time in years SHIELD has hope, the possibility of a cure. What else will she give to bring an end to this nightmare?

The Empty Space Next to Me by InNeedOfInspiration (THE FEELS ON THIS ONE) (16/16) Steve goes to Vormir to bring Natasha back and fails. But when Natasha reappears months later on the radar, Steve has an unexpected second chance. Little does he know that —nor understands how— Natasha has become a hostess in a guesthouse in Louisiana. Can he find Natasha again?

And It’s Coming For You and Me by chalantness (4/4) She’s used to the little puppy just running around, and he’s harmless and totally cute, so it’s fine. The little girl that’s giggling and running up the sidewalk after him is even cuter. And the girl’s father? Well, perhaps the word cute isn’t enough to describe him. But it’s a start.

COMPLETE NC-17 Multi-Chapters

The Nature of a Flower by mylifeisloki (22/22) (NC-17) The king has decided that Prince Steve is to take a wife. The young Princess Natasha of a far off land comes to his kingdom for their wedding. As they get to know one another, they realize that propriety and what is expected might not always be the best thing to do. Once they come to that realization, they might just leave themselves open to real love.

Sea Glass by heyfrenchfreudiana (23/23) (NC-17) So if we imagine that Steve/Natasha would happen in one way or another (alternate universe), suppose they meet cute outside their therapist’s office (who so happens to be Bruce).

Bullet Holes and Thunder Clouds by Jodygoroar (4/4) (NC-17) Steve Rogers is a NYC firefighter captain who got injured on the job now he has to go to physical therapy, turns out his therapist is Natasha Romanoff. Soulmate mark AU, this is going to be smutty. Many other Marvel characters are mentioned. Blame it all on a single Soviet bullet.

The Boss’ Daughter by mylifeisloki (33/33) (NC-17) Natasha is the young heiress to Tony Stark’s fortune, but she’s been kept on a tight leash for most of her youth. Now, when she’s about to come out into the public eye, might not be the best time for a handsome stranger to show up. Poor Steve doesn’t even see it coming.

Always the Bridesmaid by mylifeisloki (8/8) (NC-17) Attending Pepper’s wedding as the maid of honor is something of a terrible privilege. Natasha’s biding her time until it’s over- that is, until she catches sight of a handsome groomsman. All of a sudden, there might just be something at the reception that Natasha isn’t at all prepared for.

IN-PROGRESS MULTI-CHAPTERS (a.k.a desperately needs to be updated)

Steve’s Anatomy by mylifeisloki Successful cardiac surgeon Natasha finds herself at odds with a sweet nurse in the maternity ward who has managed to charm nurses and mothers alike. As time goes on, she tries to find a flaw and comes up empty– but can Steve really be as wholesome and perfect as he seems? And more importantly, is it possible that Nurse Charming is actually the perfect match for someone as emotionally challenged as Natasha happens to be?

Help Wanted by HerMajestyEffy In other words Natasha is a kidnap victim and the only person she managed to dial for help is Steve,a complete stranger.

Crossfire by mocking_words Romanogers AU where Natasha works for Bucky before Steve steps into the picture

Time After Time by beezyland A collection of AU oneshots I’d like to turn into full-length stories, but never will.

I’m Sitting on Top of the World by AnastasiaPhoenixRose12 Welcome to Los Angeles 1926, the peak of the Roaring Twenties! Wealthy adopted brothers, Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers, return home to the Stark Manor after graduating from boarding school. They, and their hoard of friends, have three months of absolute freedom before beginning their freshmen year of college. In an era dominated by the Jazz Age, Prohibition, flappers, speakeasies, automobiles, cinema, radio, gangster crime, and sexual liberation, it only gets better for Bucky and Steve when they entangle themselves in illicit affairs with the two newest foreign housemaids: Wanda Maximoff and Natasha Romanoff.

Two Hearts Set on Fire by xo_stardust720 In a world where the first words your soulmate says to you are tattooed on your skin, Natasha has spent her entire life wondering where her other half was.She never thought her soulmate would turn out to be the homeless man that she saw every morning at the train station on her way to school. But love was unpredictable like that, she supposed.

6 AM Sharp by CaptainArwenPond221B Natasha Romanoff works at her friend Clint’s coffee shop, where he offered her a fresh start a few years back. She doesn’t want to trust her heart to anyone, not anymore, so when a scrawny little guy comes in asking for black coffee with a perfect smile on his face, she’s determined not to let herself love him. Steve Rogers is a poor artist with a shitty job at SHIELD Design Co. who might have a crush on the red-headed barista who talks to him every morning before work… But nobody cares about somebody like him, so he decides never to let himself love her.. And if we’re honest, Bucky and Clint just like messing with their best friends. A lot.

Simplicity Meets Complexity by Ayooheather They came from two completely different worlds but they were always friends. Things were simple... why did they have to go and fuck that up

The Last of us by LogicalHeart The Avengers are now divided as Steve, Natasha, Sam, and Wanda are on the run. As time goes by, Steve and Natasha have gotten closer and have committed themselves to each other in a way neither of them can explain. Little do they know, that everything is about to change for the worse.

IN-PROGRESS NC-17 MULTI-CHAPTERS

Oops! by NatRomanoff_34 (NC-17) AU where Nat wants to have something Barton has..

Torched by Phoebe_Snow (NC-17) When a terrible fire destroys Natasha’s apartment, she’s left with nowhere to go. That is, until Steve, her handsome landlord, lets her move in with him until she can get her feet back up under her.

Bound & Restricted by oceanicspirit (NC-17) They were lovers of two families hated one another. She was the daughter of the leader of the Russian Mafia, and he was the son of the leader of the Irish Mafia. Will their story end the same like the two famous star crossed lovers - Romeo and Juliet.

Hate doesn’t even describe it by elcapitan_rogers (NC-17) Steve hated Natasha. Natasha hated Steve. Everything was fine until their parents decided to fuck shit up for them…

Our Time in the Dark by LeoTheAvengingLioness333 (NC-17) When Steve first met Natasha he certainly hadn’t expected her to join the team. He had been on a mission. And she had tried to kill him. But he’s always been one to give people a second chance, tried to see the best in them even when they couldn’t. And somewhere along those lines, they went from begrudged teammates to friends and finally-with the realization hitting him like a brick-to something completely and wonderfully more. Getting frozen for almost 70 years complicates things a little though. And what’s more complicated is waking up and finding out that the girl he loved in the 40s is just as alive as he is.

[salty--alien]

Deeply Wired - cp. 6

Prologue | cp. 1 | cp. 2 | cp. 3 | cp. 4 | cp. 5 | Ao3

Summary: It’s 2904. A mechanician known as the Doctor finds a broken android, Rose, and decides to take it with him and fix it. The two become closer quickly but soon a mysterious virus inside Rose starts acting up and revealing its true capabilities, changing everything. When Rose’s previous owner comes around and tries to get a hold of the Bad Wolf virus, the two are left with no choice. What lengths will they go to keep Rose away from the evil hands of the Master?

Pairing: Tenth Doctor x android!Rose Tyler (au)

Chapter: 7/?

Rating: T

Wordcount: 2907

Notes: Beta by the ever so wonderful @wordsintimeandspace (I suggest you go follow her now if you haven’t) and shoutout to @starlightkissedsmiles for supporting me with this story! (Mostly by bloating my ego with flatter I literally beg for lol) Sidenote: the text in the illustration is meant to be the way it is, don’t worry ;)

The Doctor was a man of reason. He believed in science above all else. Not once in his life had he believed in the supernatural, or the afterlife, or any of that nonsense.

However, standing in the middle of his workshop in pyjamas and staring death right in the eye, the Doctor found himself re-evaluating his life philosophy.

As he slowly began recovering from his shock, he dared to move his head to look at Rose. A part of him was constantly afraid that the bullet would carry on with its momentum the second he looked away, but another part of him didn’t care about anything but seeing if Rose was okay. Rose… no, something that looked like her, was standing next to him, hand stretched out. Her eyes were glowing like pits of molten gold, radiating so brightly it hurt to look at them. Rose’s whole body was lit up from inside out, like light trying to seep through every little nook and cranny. She was staring right past the Doctor, at Saxon, who was laughing manically in the background.

“R-Rose?” the Doctor asked, reaching out tentatively. A pair of golden eyes settled on him, empty with bright light. The eye contact made him dizzy. As she spoke, it was like hearing a thousand echoes through time. “I am the Bad Wolf. I was created to protect the innocent.”

“…And who is that? Who created you?” the Doctor wondered in disbelief. Who could’ve possibly invented something like this?

“I created myself.”

The Doctor’s eyes widened with horror. What was happening to Rose? Was this some sort of virus?

“Oh, that is so beautiful,” Saxon praised, voice full of awe. He distracted the Doctor momentarily from Rose by stepping closer and bringing the Doctor on the edge once again. “Hello, Wolf,” Saxon greeted, “you must recognise me. I am to be your Master.” He smiled a wide, ugly smile. The Doctor’s gaze flew back to Rose, whose eyebrows were furrowed deep. As she opened her mouth, light poured out. Her hair was all over the place, fury coursing through her ethereal being. The Doctor felt a shiver ripple through his whole body.

“No,” she echoed firmly. “You tried to hurt my Doctor. You don’t deserve to exist in this universe.” And with that, the Wolf twisted her wrist. The bullet, floating in the air, twisted around to face Saxon whose smile froze instantly. The Doctor didn’t need clues to realise what was about to happen.

“Rose, no, wait,” he tried. She ignored him, staring down Saxon with endless power swirling in her eyes.

“Goodbye, mortal.”

“Rose, stop!” the Doctor shouted, grabbing her outstretched arm. That got her attention in a flash. She faced the Doctor with those golden eyes, looking straight through him. He felt dizzy from the intensity of it. It was like staring at time itself.

“Why?” she asked, confused. The Doctor could swear he saw the lights in her eyes flicker.

“Rose, I don’t know what’s happening, but I know you would regret it forever if you killed him now. Please, don’t do it,” he begged, feeling Rose’s skin hot against his hands.

“Too late, Doctor.” Saxon had pulled out his gun again. Before he had the chance to shoot, though, he yelped in pain and dropped the weapon like it had burned him.

“Your cheap toy is nothing against me,” the Wolf said, eyes never straying away from the Doctor’s. He looked at her desperately, waiting for her to do something.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she shifted and looked back at Saxon. He was clearly pissed off, but the Doctor could see a hint of fear behind it.

“I give you mercy.”

With a flick of her wrist, Saxon collapsed on the ground. Unconscious, just like that.

“Rose? Rose, are you okay?” the Doctor asked, touching the glowing being’s cheeks and trying to figure out what was going on now that Saxon was out of the picture. She was burning up.

Rose looked drowsy, the light within her flickering repeatedly. She was out of focus, trying to reach out for the Doctor’s cheek. “Safe…” she whispered, voice fading along with the bright light. Rose’s eyes rolled back in her head and she collapsed into the Doctor’s arms, shut down.

————————–

As the Doctor hooked Rose up on the computer, he noticed straight away what had caused the short circuit. He felt it in the hotness of her skin, too; she had overheated. Whatever the “Bad Wolf” had been, it had rapidly overheated Rose’s system.

Gently brushing the unconscious android’s cheek, the Doctor sat down. He had taken care of Saxon while he was out of it by carrying the man out of the house, leaving him on a bench on the street. Now it was just him and Rose.

Clicking through the code, the Doctor tried to find a trace of the creature. Could it be those anomalies he had detected back then? Had they always been there?

I created myself, she had said. Those words reminded him of what he had said to Rose after the lie had come out. It felt like a strange coincidence.

A sudden loud noise that emitted from the computer startled the Doctor. The screen went dark and a pop-up appeared. “Unknown virus detected in the connected unit RO-53. Access to base code denied.”

“What?” the Doctor yelped in confusion, trying to click himself into Rose’s base code again. The same pop-up emerged. Denied. It hadn’t been denied yesterday. After a while of repeated trying and failing, the Doctor unplugged Rose from his computer and moved her to a platform that would help her system cool down faster. He plugged Rose into a charger of sorts, too. Modern day androids like Rose were fully capable of recharging themselves infinitely as long as nothing was broken. However, a little help from an outside source wouldn’t hurt Rose. This short circuit had been bad, and she would likely be very disoriented when she woke up. Because she would wake up. Of course she would. There was nothing wrong with her, right? Right?

The Doctor opened up a tab on his laptop and wrote “bad wolf” in the search bar. Pictures of old folklores popped up, of a red-hooded little girl and a gray wolf. It wasn’t what the Doctor was looking for. “Bad Wolf android” was what he wrote next. The search results were similar, nothing that really caught his eye. There had to be some information, hadn’t there?

“Bad Wolf virus” was his last search term. At first the results seemed identical, but then an article caught his eye: “Theory time: Is the Bad Wolf paradox real?” on a website called worldwideandroidcommunity.com. It was a forum post, so the Doctor didn’t know how much he should give it credit, but it was the only thing that seemed even remotely relevant.

Most of the blog post was some far-fetched nonsense about time paradoxes and saviours of the androidkind and such. It was your average forum banter, full of weird stuff and heated opinions. However, it had some useful information the Doctor had never expected to need. The Bad Wolf wasn’t only in the thousand-year-old fairytale about Little Red Riding Hood, it was also a much more recent folklore, so to speak. Androids had their own culture the Doctor knew next to nothing about so it wasn’t really a surprise he’d never heard of “the legend of the Bad Wolf”. However, the description of the legend was frightfully close to what he’d just experienced.

“The story tells that the Bad Wolf is capable of manipulating time and space itself. When the Bad Wolf arrives, everything is aflame with golden light. The Wolf is said to bring justice to the innocent, but it destroys entire worlds in its selfishness. They say that the Wolf is everywhere, in every single being and fleck of dust.”

So… what did it mean, then? Was the thing inside Rose considered some sort of saviour of the androidkind? The comment section was full of androids voicing their opinions. Unsurprisingly, they were pretty divided. Many of them didn’t believe in the story, some thought it was a cool theory (the Doctor hadn’t even read what the actual theory had been about), and some actually seemed to be dead serious about it. People were attacking the original poster for portraying the Wolf as a good guy, when in the story the Wolf had been “not a saviour, but a destroyer”. It was confusing to say the least. And complete rubbish, if somebody asked him. It was just an old AI fairytale, not holding that much significance amongst them either, as it turned out. But what else could it be? He had seen Rose stop an actual bullet in the air and he’d seen her knock out Saxon with only a small flick of her wrist. That couldn’t be an ordinary computer virus. It had created itself, even. That’s what it had said.

Bad Wolf was a mystery the Doctor couldn’t solve.

————————–

It was a quiet morning. The Doctor spent the early hours repairing the workshop’s door: the bang they had heard first had been Saxon breaking the door open. The hinges were fairly undamaged, but the handle was broken. It was an easy fix, though. Everything was easy compared to the stuff he was dealing with Rose.

From time to time, the Doctor checked on Rose to make sure she was still stable. He couldn’t reboot her before her core temperature had cooled down enough or before she had enough energy. His stomach plummeted every time he glanced at her direction. Seeing Rose so unnaturally still, devoid of life and movement… it upset him. He didn’t want to wait any longer to restore her power.

“It’s time to wake up, Rose,” the Doctor murmured gently, brushing the android’s hair back with his hand. He detached the wires off of Rose and watched carefully as her system began restarting.

A low-pitched noise emitted from Rose. Ever so slowly, her eyes fluttered open. A fleck of gold flickered in Rose’s eyes momentarily before settling into a warm, whiskey brown colour. Her gaze was cloudy and unfocused.

“Rose?” the Doctor asked, hovering above her. Rose blinked a few times, looking around herself. When her gaze settled on the Doctor, recognition lit up in her eyes. She smiled sleepily.

“Hello, Doctor.”

“Are you in any pain?” he asked worriedly. Rose’s expression went from happy and sleepy to concerned as she saw the Doctor’s grim face.

“No, I’m… I feel okay. Bit hot in here, tho’.” She frowned and tried to get up, but the Doctor gently pushed her back down with an apologetic look. “Why? Is there somethin’ wrong with me?” she inquired, not trying to force herself upright anymore. It was heartwarming to see she trusted him.

“What do you remember of last night?” The Doctor watched as Rose’s expression morphed into one of confusion.

“Last night? Why? I… Well we met Jackie, and after that nothing happened,” she recalled, then furrowed her brows. “No, hold on. I wanted you to go to sleep, right? But then… Oh god. It was real? He was here?” Rose’s eyes widened in horror. The Doctor nodded in melancholy.

“Do you remember anything else, though?” Rose blinked and looked around, seeming to think hard. Her expression turned somewhat foul as she declared: “Yeah. You were rude to me.” The Doctor grimaced at that. He regretted snapping at her. It was his own fault anyway. Rose had only tried to warn him about the gun. Now wasn’t the time for an apology, though.

“And what about… after he shot me?” he probed, examining Rose’s face carefully. Rose jerked and tried to get up, face full of worry.

“He shot you?! Oh my god, Doctor, are you‒”

“No, Rose, it’s okay, I’m okay! Please, don’t get up yet, you suffered a massive short circuit not even six hours ago. I need you to lie down for now, yeah?” the Doctor rushed in, gently pushing Rose down once again. Her expression was full of mixed emotions. The Doctor could see flashes of anger, confusion, worry, and gold behind her eyes. He didn’t know if he’d just imagined the last one, but it frightened him nonetheless.

“‒But you said he…” Rose began, only to trail off.

“And he did,” the Doctor replied calmly. “Try, that is.”

“Well what happened?” Rose asked, impatient. She was apparently tired of the Doctor being his mysterious, suspensive self. He smiled softly as he looked at Rose’s perplexed eyes.

“You did,” he said.

“Me?” Rose asked in surprise, eyes widening. “Did I take the bullet? Wait… is that why I had the black-out thingy?”

“More or less. Welll… I don’t really know myself what happened. But you, Rose… You saved my life. Stopped the bullet, or rather, something inside you did,” the Doctor tried to explain, looking back at the horrifying event with newfound perspective. She had been terrifying. But she had looked absolutely beautiful, like a goddess. “You just stopped it, like frozen in time. It was unbelievable. I’ve lived my whole life believing in science and physics but not once have I seen something like that happen.” Rose’s expression was unreadable.

“I don’t get it. How was I able to do that?” she asked. The Doctor shrugged and looked down at his empty hands, feeling the urge to take her hand in his.

“You started glowing: it was so bright it hurt to look at you. You weren’t yourself, really. You claimed to be ‘the Bad Wolf’,” he revealed, looking back at Rose.

“Bad Wolf?” Rose repeated, voice quiet. “I don’t know what that is.” She frowned.

“Neither do I. I mean, I do think it’s some sort of virus. My computer recognises it as a virus. It is no ordinary hack, though,” the Doctor said. “If it expands outside the virtual dimension, it’s got to be something more powerful.”

“I don’t like it,” Rose whispered, lying down next to the sitting Doctor. He breathed deep and nodded.

“I don’t, either. It’s clearly what Saxon is after. He…” the Doctor paused, “I think he mentioned something about becoming your Master. The Bad Wolf’s, that is.” “Sounds shady,” Rose commented.

“Yeah,” he replied. “Maybe he aspires to control that thing inside you. He does seem a bit mad so that wouldn’t be out of the question. As your previous owner, he must’ve triggered that thing before.” Rose listened to the Doctor speak quietly, twisting her hands anxiously. Finally her hand found its place in his, making the twitching stop.

“I don’t get why he’d abandon me if I was valuable to him, tho’,” Rose said. The Doctor didn’t know the answer to that either. Maybe he hadn’t been the one to abandon Rose in the scrapyard after all. But that wouldn’t line up with all the other things. As the silence stretched, only their linked hands gave them comfort.

“Can you remove it?” Rose asked timidly, breaking the silence.

“Remove it?” the Doctor repeated, looking down at Rose. She looked troubled.

“The thing. From inside me. If someone put it in there, then you must be able to remove it somehow, yea’?”

“That’s not how it works, Rose,” the Doctor sighed.

“Then tell me how it works,” she shot back, impatient. The Doctor couldn’t believe he was about to go into android science and anatomy right now with an actual android.

“It wasn’t put into you,” the Doctor corrected. “As far as I know, that thing is a part of you. It has always been a part of you since the moment you were created, and I don’t mean your physical form, I mean your chip. You know, the thing that determines who you are; your personality, memories, potential… everything.”

Rose frowned deep, displeasure imminent on her face: “I don’t get it. What do you mean, ‘it wasn’t put into you’? Then how the heck is it there in the first place?”

“Well, remember when I talked about the strange anomalies in your base code? The same code that isn’t created by any human but actual machines; machines no one can control? I think that is what the anomalies were. They are entwined in your coding, a.k.a in your very own DNA, so to speak. No human being could’ve tampered with that. Not even I know how deep the technology of today goes.” Rose’s face fell and her grip on the Doctor’s hand slackened. She closed her eyes.

“So, removing it would mean…”

“…destroying your whole chip, the thing that essentially is you. Yeah.” The Doctor felt sick even saying it. Again, he had no absolute waterproof information, but his speculations were more than often correct. And in this case, even with the blanks, everything sort of made sense. He hated being right sometimes. “But that’s not happening. I won’t let it,” he promised, tightening his hold on the android’s hand.

This time when Rose tried to sit up, the Doctor didn’t stop her. He gently helped her sit upright, wrapping his free arm around her. Rose looked exhausted. She fell heavily against the Doctor, burying her face in his shoulder as much as she could, hair falling over her face. Her deep, hopeless sigh was the most heartbreaking sound the Doctor had heard in a long time.

[frankys-playlist]

Story of the Year - Wolves (2017) Track by track

Some of Frontman Dan Marsala’s most personal lyrics about love, life struggles and parenthood/family-life

2. How Can We Go On There’s a theme of hopelessness I felt when listening to this and there’s a line that stood out to me the most: “We say that we’re alive but all I see are empty coffins calling out our names.” Usually 90 percent of the time Ryan writes all the demo of the music and sends them to me. Then I write the vocals and send them back. This song was the only one where I actually wrote and recorded everything. So it’s pretty much my song and it’s the wildcard of the record. It made sense for it to go first because we wanted to open up with something kickass and uptempo. Lyrically a lot of the record is about my personal life and stuff I went through, a lot of it relates to the band and how that has changed over the years. How our lives changed completely from being a huge band, to going away and being on hiatus and trying to adapt to the normal world. I think this song relates more to the band’s side. How can we go on? Should we even continue with this thing that we love so much? Is it worth it? I mean it can relate to a million different things but that was my mindset. “All I see are empty coffins” was just seeing all the negatives of the future or whatever you’re trying to accomplish.

3. Bang Bang This is the perfect title for this song, because I can already see people singing the hook at concerts! I’m sure it had to be a good time recording it in the studio. That was the first one we finished and the early version ended up being the same as the album version. We were going to release it a year before this record. But we decided we weren’t far enough long and didn’t want to put one song out. It was the first one where we were like, “Yes this is Story of the Year. This is where we need to be.” It has everything: it’s heavy, has a thumping beat, catchy chorus and still badass. The lyrics just flew right out. It kind of just happened and we said, “Cool, that’s the comeback!”

4. Youth When I first heard this, it gave me a national anthem vibe. It’s like a rally cry for well, the youth. Ryan is an amazing guitar player and he loves to shred all the time. But there was a lack of shredding on this record because we were trying to make more anthemic songs that would be more about lyrics than just guitars. I think he felt there was a lack of some of that and told us, “Hey I wrote this cool thing and I don’t know if everyone is gonna hate it. If it sucks it’s whatever but I think it can go into ‘I Swear I’m Okay’ really good.” It’s kind of like “Eruption” by Van Halen or something. It’s a solo on a record for no reason. But like I said it was a time where we can do whatever we want and it doesn’t matter if you put a minute-long guitar solo in a song. Who cares? It’s art. It’s fun and definitely sets the stage for the next song.

5. I Swear I’m Okay Well speaking of lyrics, I think this song is one of the more personal ones on the record. It stands out to me the most because it’s so melodic and tender compared to the other ones. We knew that one was going to be different and a stand out to the other songs from the early stages. As soon as he sent the music over, the chorus just came out of me. It’s definitely one of the deeper lyrical songs on the record. It’s about growing up and becoming a different person that what you thought you would be—whether or not that’s good or bad. Or hiding the fact that maybe things aren’t okay and maybe I’m not as happy as I lead myself on to be. It’s more of a letter to a person telling them you’re sorry for the way you are. It’s probably my favorite on the record. It’s uncomfortable to talk about.

6. Miracle When I heard this song I immediately thought of the Page Avenue and In the Wake of Determination days. It reminds me of old SOTY but more grown up. It’s definitely one of my favorite songs on the album.

Yeah me too. That one was not one of the easy ones. I wrote three or four choruses for it and had different versions floating around. With that opening riff, Ryan was like “is that too Anberlin for us?” They’re one of our best touring friends of all time. So it’s kind of like an homage and it’s f-cking awesome. It ended up being one of our favorite songs but it was a lot of work to get it there. I think it might end up being a single, but I don’t know how any of that works anymore [laughs].

7. Can Anybody Hear Me? When I heard this song, the first thing I said was “Wow, this production is beautiful.” But that’s something you don’t associate with Story of the Year. You usually think post-hardcore. But this reminds me of something Coldplay would do.

Yeah it’s a good theme. It’s just a song about feeling alone and wondering if you’re connecting with anybody or if anybody cares at all. It’s a hopeful-sounding song but I guess it’s very negative in a way. Everybody feels alone at some point and I think it’s a good one that people can connect to on a lot of different levels. We weren’t scared to get weird like that and try stuff that doesn’t sound like Story of the Year, and that was one example for sure.

8. A Part of Me This production is a lot bolder compared to the other songs. It reminds me of a twisted love story, which I thought was cool.

First off, I want to shout out Aaron Sprinkle who did almost 80 percent of the production on our record and just killed it! He added such a great vibe to all these songs than if we went to another producer. “A Part of Me” is actually a letter to my son. 

Wow I would’ve never guessed that! 

Yeah it’s a big metaphor. Any of the more lovey-dovey songs are more about parenthood and children than about conventional love songs. But I didn’t necessarily want this to be obvious and wanted people to connect with it however they want. It’s just being thankful that this life has some into your life and how amazing that is. It’s definitely one of my favorites on the record lyrically. It was one of the first ones I wrote as well, and I was like “Man I’m not afraid to get sentimental and deep about my life right now.” That was a good feeling and opened up the floodgates for the rest of the record.

9. Give Up My Heart With every album someone puts out, you always have that one sappy song. And this is it! Was it about you becoming a dad for the first time? It was about my second child. I had written “A Part of Me” and I have a daughter as well. So I said this one would be more about that. But it’s a similar idea lyrically. It’s about being scared of how much you can love someone and how crazy that feeling is. Just freaking out and saying, “Oh my god, don’t make me feel this way. There’s no way I can love something this much.” It tried to make it metaphorical and weird enough where it still has a creepy vibe. It should be in a movie trailer or something, with the big drums and the chorus. It’s just a cool song all around.

10. The Eternal Battle For Mike Cronin’s Soul (To Be Alive Again) Of course everyone is going to be asking who the hell Mike Cronin is!

We crowd-funded the record and one of the pledge things was that you can have a song named after you. A man named Mike Cronin was the one who purchased that. He also bought a studio visit too, so he came in and got to hang out with us. That song is one of the more upbeat and heavy ones. You obviously can’t name a love song that, or something sentimental and slow. So I said, “what if we make it kind of silly?” We didn’t tell him at all [laughs]! It’s one of those classic Story of the Year songs that kicks ass. It’s about falling in love with music, living that dream and not wanting it to go away.

11. My Home This is a hodge-podge of different sounds. You have the chants in the beginning, those blippy synths and then the piano melody. When you put a bunch of different sounds together, it doesn’t really work. But this one definitely does.

It was one of the last ones we wrote and we weren’t sure if we liked it or not. We had over 30 demos for this record and Aaron Sprinkle came in and picked the ones for it. And they were pretty much the same songs we were going for. The bridge is my favorite part of the whole song. It was the last thing I wrote for the record and it takes the song to a whole different level.

This probably sounds so strange. But if you strip down the drum pattern of the song, it kind of mimics a tropical pop beat. I feel like if you took that and gave it to someone like Justin Bieber, it could become a pop song!

Yeah the kick drum goes four on the floor for the whole song. It’s definitely the poppiest song of the record. But we tried to keep it as a rock song as much as we could.

12. Goodnight, My Love”

Love is one of the biggest themes of this album. Why did you guys decide to go down that route and showcase the different aspects of love?

The last couple of records had a lot of social and political lyrics, and I think it didn’t really connect much with people. So I wanted this one to definitely be as personal as possible instead of what’s happening in the world. I think there’s a time for both, but it was time to focus on that. This one definitely relates to my kids again, as well as my wife. Just my whole family and the struggle of how can I support them, what is the future and losing your mind in the process. It’s about going f-cking insane and all you want to do is take care of your family. But it’s not an easy process in the music business nowadays. Anything artistically in that world…it’s like the wild wild west out there.

13. Like Ghosts I wanted to get the story behind this one, because I couldn’t really figure it out myself. It seems like a breakup song on first listen.

This is a cool one as well. It’s kind of ‘80s pop but in a dark way. It’s a bit Peter Gabriel-ish and we wanted to explore that. It’s not really a breakup song. It’s a love song and an apology for being the way I am. The chorus goes, “Don’t tell me I’m not all that you need anymore.” Basically a plea to keep dealing with my bullshit. The first verse is saying I would do anything for you. The second is verse I’m sorry for the way I am and don’t let it go. It’s a different kind of love song.

14. Praying for Rain This is the longest song on the album. How did you guys decide on it being the final scene of this cinematic journey?

The original demo was called “Interstellar Voyage.” Ryan sent this epic long thing to me and I was like, “Okay this is three songs. What the hell am I supposed to do with that?” I loved it right away: it was dark and heavy and very Deftones-y. They’re one of our favorite bands of all time. We didn’t have anything like that. Eventually we structured it a bit better. We didn’t know if we should cut it up and make it a shorter song, or leave it long and make it this big epic ending. The whole second half just goes on this journey into another place and it meets up at the end. It doesn’t feel as long as it is. 

I think it’s because you have that spoken word section in the middle. 

Yeah that was a last minute decision. How can we fill this song up and have it all make sense? And I had this spoken word idea. Nobody even heard that until the mixes were all done because I did it after the record. Lyrically it’s one of my favorites and is a journey throughout my life. Everything from kids to the band to the struggles—it basically encompasses the entire record. We never even attempted a seven-minute song before, so it’s cool! I love it.