#i think i'm actually gonna have her choose the deep roads

[shift-shaping]

This is one of the crueler things Solas approves of. This results in Ser Ruth hanging out in the stocks to be made an example of before being sent to do hard labor. It's interesting to have a look at what judgements Solas and Vivienne agree on, because you'd expect them to be much rarer than they are. For example, another option they both Approve of is the decision to return a deceased Duchess Florianne's trade routes to whichever the reigning monarch is. I'm not even sure what that means, because I haven't gotten there yet and don't remember, but I assume they both approve because it brings some stability to the region.

Granted, there's really no good answer regarding Ser Ruth. Exile to the Deep Roads is I guess the best option, but that sucks too. I had Enaste refuse to judge her, but that didn't really feel in character either. Enaste usually goes for making use of someone she has to judge, i.e. sending Alexius to work with Leliana, Movran to annoy Tevinter, and recruiting Crassius Servus as an agent.

[janedoeswriting]

The Way The Wind Blows (Stiles x OC) Chapter Five

Description: Rhiannon finds herself trapped within her guilty pleasure tv show— Teen Wolf. Now, she must choose which path to take… one that leads back home, and another that follows uncertain adventure.

Tags: extreme slow burn, frienemies to lovers, fix it fic, canon change, actions have consequences.

TW: angst, fluff, sexual harassment, anxiety, depression, obsession, domestic violence, manipulation, etc. Just please do not read if you are sensitive to difficult subjects.

(Sun Bleached Flies by Ethel Cain)

**TW: violence, murder, gore, kidnapping. Read at your own peril.

"Someone was hungry," Austin said.

Rhiannon tore into the waffles with no remorse, only stopping to drink the soda it came with. She just hummed at him in both confirmation and dismissal. He laughed, and leaned back in the booth. Austin, she learned his name, was a fan of waffle house. She'd also learned he was quite the perfect subject for her little hitch hiking plan.

He was kind, and genuine. He didn't pry or ask any questions Rhiannon didn't want to answer. He had business in Beacon Hills, but didn't like staying in one place for too long. Which was perfect for Rhiannon.

She had insisted they get as far out of town as they could before they stopped for food. They finally stopped off the highway two hours east of the city in a tiny country town with just a waffle house and a chevron gas station as far as the eye could see.

The drive was interesting. Rhiannon had actually enjoyed painting this new persona. Bad girl rule breaker. Runaway teen.

Where she was from, she had seldom even gotten detention before. Now, she was breaking the law. And it felt good.

Talking to Austin distracted her from the guilt she felt.

"Thank you," she said through her food. "I love Waffle House." She truly hadn't had a better meal in her life.

"So... How long do you think it'll take 'em to notice your gone? A day? Two?" he asked playfully.

From the drive she had learned he had also run away in his adolescence. A few times, actually. He had also spent some time in county jail for minor crimes, but she didn't want to hear about her sponsor's criminal past. It didn't exactly ease her apprehension.

"An hour." she said, sipping her coke. He scoffed and shook his head. "You're gonna be in deep shit if you're caught."

She looked at him. "You'll be in deeper shit if we're caught." And that was that. He inclined his head in surrender. "We're gonna have to stop somewhere in a few hours to sleep. I'm assuming you don't have any pajamas in your little bag." he said, inclining his head to her bag. "Why do we have to stop? We can sleep in shifts--," she started. "Absolutely not." he quickly said.

"Why not?" Rhi asked incredulously.

"Because, Jane-," he said, using the false name she'd given him. It had taken some getting used to, but it was better than him knowing who she really was. "You're a girl."

"So?" she asked in offense. "So I don't trust you." He said matter-of-factly. She sighed.

"Well if it means anything, I don't trust you either."

"I'm touched." Austin said, and that perpetual smirk lifted at the corner of his lips again. He was truly heartbreakingly handsome. "I'm not sleeping in the same room as you." She said strictly. "I wouldn't dream if it." Austin responded. "Good." and she returned to her food. As they paid the check Rhiannon couldn't help but catch a glimpse of the old box television in the corner of the restaurant. It was muted but the screen displayed the local news channel. On it the words read, 'Teenage girl missing from Beacon Hills' A sketch that looked eerily similar to her own flashed on the screen. She quickly looked away.

Rhiannon swallowed and kept her head down till they were back on the road. --

By that night, Rhiannon had come to the conclusion that she liked Austin. He was funny, and he played the music loud and sang along to it too. He listened to her ranting, and she listened to the sob story of his tragic past. Orphaned as a child. In and out of foster homes all his life. All of them were abusive in some sort of way, and he had the scars to prove it.

When Rhiannon asked, "Why are you doing this for me?", he said

"I'll be totally honest with you, Jane. You remind me of me. If I'd had someone to just get me out long enough, I think I would have been better off in life. I wouldn't have gotten into stealing, or drug dealing.... You could turn out alright, Jane. I can see it." "Oh, you can?" she asked playfully. "I can." he responded seriously. Jane paused, and they shared a smile. "Well, alright then. If Austin sees a future where I'm free then I know I'm all set."

He laughed. "What do you want to do in life, Jane?"

Rhiannon thought about it. "I want to paint."

"To paint?" he asked incredulously. She smacked his arm and he laughed hard. "Yes, to paint."

"Well.. Are you any good?" he asked. She rolled her eyes but gazed out at the fields. "Yes. I'm pretty good."

"Good. Cause one day when your a fancy shmancy artist in the city I'll come callin' asking for a portion of the proceeds."

Rhiannon scoffed. His laugh was infectious, and he was charming to boot. "How come you don't have a girlfriend?"

She asked the question without even thinking, and her cheeks reddened at her own brazeness. "Why, you interested?" he asked, and she shoved her hand in his face as he mocked kissing noises at her. "Haha, get in line princess. I'm hard to keep in one place."

"Oh, right. You seem so difficult to hold down." she said sarcastically. "You know- picking up strange girls up from the side of the road and all." she added. "Oh come on. That's the definition of 'difficult to hold down'!"

She shook her head at him but their laughter carried as the sun set in brilliant oranges and reds.

--

"You're kidding me." she said. The lady at the front desk of the motel six looked at her through sagging eyes. She took a drag from her cigarette without a word, and blew the smoke out right into their faces. "Only one bed, sweetheart."

Austin looked at her with a resigned cringe. She turned in exasperation, and left him to pay. She had only read about 'one-bed' tropes in romance novels. She didn't think it would be real. Much less in a middle-of-nowhere town somewhere in Nevada.

He came outside of the dingy office illuminated by yellow flickering fluorescent lights. "Bed bugs." was his explanation. "Only one of the rooms doesn't have 'em."

"Great." she said sarcastically. He took out a pack of cigarettes and lit one. "You smoke?" she asked in surprised. He looked down at them and then at her, as if he were caught red-handed.

"Oh- sorry-," he started. She took the cigarette from his fingers before he could stamp it out and inhaled.

He gazed at her in surprise. Her sudden bout of coolness was shattered when she broke into a fit of coughs. He laughed that wonderful infectious laugh. "Was that your first time?" he asked. She nodded, coughing into her elbow. "It hurts." she squeeked out.

"It doesn't hurt after a while." he said, taking a long drag and letting it out slowly to the sky. "What do we do?" Rhi asked after her lungs finally stopped aching. "Well, I booked the room, so you can sleep in there and I'll crash in the car."

In a good romance novel, Rhiannon would have protested and they would have begrudgingly shared a bed. But this was real life, and he was a stranger she met half a day ago.

"Okay." she said, and took the key he outstretched to her.

"I'll be using the shower first, though." he said. She nodded in understanding. The room was even grimier than she could have imagined. It was a combination of yellow wallpaper, brown carpet, and horrible interior design. The water pressure in the shower was criminal.

Rhiannon laid on the bed and stared at the popcorn ceiling as she listened to him shower. She almost fell asleep right there, but then the bathroom door opened and she shot up to a seated position. He came out rubbing his hair in a towel. Rhiannon didn't know if she was disappointed or relieved that he was fully dressed.

As he passed by her, she could still smell the faint cigarette smoke on him.

He turned to her, and with a gentle reassuring smile he said, "Don't forget to lock the door behind me."

With that, he was gone. She got up and did so immediately.

It took a long time to fall asleep. As she tossed and turned in the scratchy sheets she longed for the scent of lavender and lasagna.

--

Stiles sat in his car staring at the steering wheel. Deep purple bags lined his eyes. His father had sent out a police force to comb the city. Stiles himself had driven around all night, with the help of his friends. He even enlisted the help of Scott and Derek's pack to use her scent and comb the town.

She was gone. She was gone. Rhiannon was gone, and it was his fault. The news had been spread through the town and neighboring ones. Missing girl. Kidnapped, is what the news said. FBI and CPS were all over his father-- blaming him for not protecting her. Stiles didn't protect her. He was supposed to keep her safe.

It was three in the morning when Stiles pulled into his driveway. He couldn't get out of the car. If he did, it meant it was over. She was gone and it was his fault. It was his fault.

Why did he let her get out of the car? Why didn't he stay with her? Stiles' father knocked on the window and Stiles jumped. He looked just as tired as Stiles felt. Stiles opened the door.

Mr. Stilinski didn't have to say it. Stiles knew what his dad was thinking. He didn't need to be yelled at or grounded to know. It was his fault. Tears brimmed at his eyes before he could stop them.

"I'm sorry, dad." He said, his voice cracking. He'd said it a million times that day, but this time he felt truly defeated. It felt real. "I'm-," but Stiles was silenced by his father's hug. He held Stiles tightly to him. "It's okay. It's gonna be okay."

But it wasn't. It wasn't okay. "I'm gonna find her. I'll get her back." Stiles said desperately.

"It's not your fault, Stiles." his dad said.

But it was. "I'm gonna find her." Stiles said. "It's not your fault."

And Stiles leaned into him. He let the sobs wracking his chest out into his father's shoulder. He gripped him tightly. "We'll get her back, Stiles. She's gonna be fine."

Stiles couldn't help but picture the dead bodies he'd seen in the morgue. Heather's lifeless, cold body. Bloated and pale and reeking of death. The throat slit, head bashed in, ligature marks at the neck.

"We'll find her, Stiles."

--

"Wake up!" Rhiannon yelled.

Austin jerked awake in fear and shock. Rhiannon laughed aloud at his reaction. Upon realizing it was her, he took a deep breath of relief. He opened the passenger door. "Don't do that!"

But he had caught onto her laughter, and couldn't help but gaze at her as she shook her head at him.

"You should have seen your face."

"You're evil." he said, running a hand through his hair as he tried to gather his wits at the sudden awakening. "How early is it?" he asked. His voice was raspy and tired. Rhiannon tried not to let it distract her.

"Seven."

"Seven?! Are you crazy?"

She shrugged and cheekily tossed him the motel key. "Get ready. We've got a long day of driving."

A half an hour later, they were on the road again.

"What d'ya want for breakfast?" she asked, inspecting the contents of his glove compartment. "Oh, like your paying."

It was true-- she hadn't paid for anything at all. But she didn't exactly have any money and she hadn't offered.

She shrugged nonchalantly. "I'm a girl." she said, throwing his own words from earlier back at him.

He shook his head with an easy smile. It felt like they had known each other for a lifetime. "McDonalds it is."

--

Rhiannon waited in the car patiently. When Austin came back he carried a bag of food in hand and gave it to her sternly. "Jane?" He said.

"Austin." She responded, already digging around for food.

"Do you even realize how much trouble your in?" he asked. Rhiannon's blood ran cold. Oh no.

He slapped a newspaper onto her lap. The front page read, 'Missing Teenager: Rhiannon Watson Presumed Kidnapped'. The police sketch of her face stared back at her. She cringed and looked up at him as he held the roof of the car and leaned forward against the open doorway. "Rhiannon?!" he exclaimed. She sighed and slammed the newspaper down. "You said you understood-," she started, but he cut her off.

"You said your name was Jane!"

"Okay, so I lied! What's the big deal? I didn't know you."

"Oh yeah? Find some other ride to Florida. I'm not a kidnapper." He said. She was already digging into the food. "Tell that to my foster father." she said, taking a bite of a McMuffin. "Your foster father is the Sheriff of Beacon Hills! Are you crazy?!" Rhiannon tilted her head to the side in consideration.

"Did you read the article? I mean-," she scoffed. "I could be."

"I'm taking you to a hospital." he said, getting in the truck and putting it in drive. "Yeah? Can't wait to tell them how you stole me off the side of the road."

He looked at her so severely she put her hands up in feigned innocence. "Listen-- Please just listen. I don't want to go back there. You told me you knew how it was. I- I can't go back. Just take me to Louisiana, drop me off, and none will be the wiser. You were never involved."

"Never involved?! Jane- ugh, Rhiannon. You lied to me."

"I didn't! I told you the truth. Except for my name, that was a lie, but everything else was the truth. You knew what you were getting into."

Austin hesitated. Rhiannon quickly followed up. "Don't act like you thought picking me up was some self-righteous act. You knew you were breaking the law. And if you take me to the hospital now, you're signing yourself up to wind back up in jail."

"You tricked me." "Austin, I didn't trick you. And I don't want to get you in trouble. I really don't."

They sat for a moment at the red light.

"Please. Don't take me back. It's gonna be alright." There was a long moment of silence as Austin contemplated. Finally, he said, "I'm dropping you off in Denver. From there on out, you're on your own."

Rhiannon sat back, relief flooding her body. "Denver it is."

--

It took a half a day for Austin to warm back up to Rhiannon. It was a long drive during which Rhiannon talked a lot. About who she was, and what had happened to her. Of course, she didn't tell him the whole truth, just the cover story. How she had no memories of her life, and was found in the middle of the road and then taken in by the Sheriff. She told him how lonely she felt. How the only thing she had to go off of was warm seas and palm trees (this, of course, was a lie). It worked anyhow.

Eventually, they were riding in pleasant conversation again. Whenever they stopped it was in small towns for very brief periods of time. She would wait in the car for him to bring her food, and would pee in gas stations that looked like they hadn't changed since they'd been built in the eighties.

Rhiannon asked him not to get any more newspapers. And deep down she appreciated the time they spent together. It was innocent, and nice. He was kind despite everything.

She felt like a vagabond with the world at her feet. And he was exactly what she needed to feel safe again.

At night he would stop in motels and get rooms while she waited in the car, and then she would slip in without a witness in sight. He never tried to overstep any boundaries and went out of his way to make sure she was comfortable.

And she was always comfortable. It was hard not to be with his southern manners. At night she would peek her head out of her motel room to find him standing outside, where he always had a room beside her's. He smoked cigarettes, and she would lean against the wall next to him inhaling the smoke and taking a few hits here and there.

"You always smell like cigarettes, you know." she commented.

"Do I?" he asked. She nodded and leaned back as she let some smoke fall out of her mouth.

"You do too, now." Austin said.

--

They'd been together for three days. Rhiannon was growing more and more weary of him. Not in a bad way.

In fact, in a horrible gut wrenchingly good way.

She was ever-aware of his fingertips brushing hers as they handed each other food, or changed the radio station. She sometimes laid her feet on his lap as he drove and let her head hang out the window. When they shared cigarettes, she tried not to think about the phantom touch of where is lips had been.

Austin never fought with her. He was too mature. Too light-hearted. He took her jokes in stride and returned them with vigor. He never pressed her or berated her behavior.

It was growing dark that third night. They had pulled into a small town. It was covered in churches-- one just about every corner. The houses were dim and small. The town was quiet, with not a soul around. Not even a motel.

"Where do we go?" Rhiannon asked sleepily, pulling her feet from his lap. He lifted his hand off her shin, where it had grown comfortable rubbing circles on her skin. They were becoming more and more accustomed to each others touch.

"I don't know. Everything is closed." He said, taking turn after turn down the winding roads. Rhiannon didn't even know what state they were in-- she'd lost track long ago.

The road they drove down turned into dirt, and the trees covered the path.

"I'll turn around up here." Austin said, his voice annoyed with his exhaustion and confusion at getting lost in this small town.

The road was longer than they thought. Eventually, it opened up to a single white church. It was very clearly abandoned, with the paint peeling and vines climbing up the walls. Austin slowed the truck to a stop as the headlights illuminated the building. Rhiannon looked at him, and he looked at her. "Wanna check it out?" he asked light heartedly. There was that playful fun he always seemed to adopt. She couldn't help her own smile. "We're gonna get serial killed out here." "Oh come on. This isn't a horror movie." he said, opening the door.

She sighed and followed him, taking her bag with her in case they did happen to stumble upon Leatherface. Of course, he didn't know about the knife in her bag, but he didn't need to know.

They walked forward together amongst the overgrowth. A stray stick caught on Rhiannon's foot, and she yelped as she stumbled forward. Austin caught her gracefully in his arms. She looked up at him and was struck again by his rugged handsomeness in the moonlight. "Are you scared?" he asked. She rolled her eyes, but as they continued forward she held his arm and walked close to him.

The door creaked open eerily as they stepped inside. The stain glass at the far end was broken open. Vines and branches of a tree stuck through. The place was rotting from the inside out, but for some reason it looked quite beautiful with the moonlight shining through.

They walked down the aisle together. She didn't need to hold his arm anymore, but she did anyway. She wanted to. She could feel his warmth. Her pulse quickened. "It's pretty." she commented, surprising herself. And it was pretty. Despite being an abandoned creepy church in the middle of nowhere, it looked quite holy in the moonlight.

They stopped at the altar. He looked down at her while she gazed up at the lush overgrowth. "It is," he said.

She looked up at him only to find he was staring at her. Her face ran red, and she could feel her stomach squirming in the oh-so heavy atmosphere that laid on them. She noticed his gaze on her lips, and she couldn't help but do the same. When she glanced back up to his eyes, she found he had caught her in the act.

When he leaned down and kissed her, Rhiannon froze. She didn't know why- she had kissed a boy before- but this was different. He paused and slightly withdrew just enough so that their lips were no longer touching. It was a moment of hesitation. Of confirmation, before Rhiannon answered his silent question. She ever so slightly leaned forward and kissed him back.

What had started gentle and tentative quickly turned ravenous. Rhiannon was almost taken aback by his eagerness for her. He quickly began to hold her body tightly against his, wrapping arms around her frame. He was bigger than she'd thought-- certainly not as skinny as Stiles was. The memory of Stiles flashing in her mind felt silly and she mentally banished it. But for some reason, she leaned in further and let him pull her body closer into his.

His hand was over her waist, brushing over her ass and stroking up her back all the way up to the base of her neck.

His animalistic moan stirred something within her, and in one fluid motion he lifted her up to straddle his torso. Her legs wrapped around him while Austin gripped her butt in his hands and roughly set her onto the crumbling stone altar. Her stomach did a somersault as his firmness pressed against her center. They were moving very quickly, and the desire and hunger was inconsolable.

At least, on his end. Something nagging in the bag of her mind led her to pull back slightly. He began to roughly bite and kiss her neck as she regretfully whispered the words. "Wait-... Not too fast." she said. Her voice was ragged from desire. It seemed to only satisfy him more. The sucking on her neck increased. Her hand pressed to his chest firmly. "Slow down." she said as her voice cleared.

And he did, kissing her softer and steadying his pace. She could hear his ragged breathing now. A groan in the back of his throat as his licking and sucking slowed at her request.

She couldn't help the devious smirk that tugged at her lips. She liked it. The control she had over him. His all-consuming desire for her.

He groaned again and leaned his head against her chest, his hands pulling from her waist and resting on the altar beside her hips. He gripped the stone and closed his eyes, pulling himself together.

"You smell so good." he said gruffly, taking a deep breath. She knew she probably didn't-- as she had been using motel bodywash and his deodorant for the past few days. But she took the compliment nonetheless.

One of his hands, which had been clutching the stone, moved back to her waist. She glanced down at it. Her heartbeat skipped. There was a crack there now in the stone where his hand had just been. In the shape of his grip. Maybe it had already been there. She glanced to the other side, where his other hand followed suit and lightly held her other hip. A similarly shaped mark was etched into the stone. As if he had supernatural strength. He lifted his head, and she pretended like she hadn't seen a thing. She smiled as sultrily as she could. This seemed to work, and he took her lips into his once more. She kissed him with her eyes open this time, not knowing what to do with her hands.

She pulled back once more before it went too far.

She used her foot to push him back and swiftly jumped off the altar. She gave him a cheeky smile at his confused put-out expression. She tried to stay as nonchalant as possible.

"I'm not that easy, Austin. Gonna have to take me on a few dates, first." She said this as she sauntered past him and reached down to sling her bag back over her shoulder which she had dropped in their fiery exchange. She turned back to him, and there was that gut-wrenching smile again. But now, Rhiannon thought that something looked off about it.

Maybe it was how that smile didn't quite meet his eyes. Or how they reflected the moonlight in a strange way.

Maybe she was being paranoid, but a nagging instinct tugged at her chest. She had to get out of there. She had to act like nothing was wrong and convince him to drive to a motel.

He tilted his head to the side, and the moonlight shone strangely around his dark figure. Those eyes-- they weren't just reflecting strangely. They were glowing. A milky, silvery white.

He wasn't a werewolf, like she had suspected just moments before. This was worse. So much worse. He was a wendigo. And all she remembered about wendigos was their intense craving for human flesh.

"You know what I am, don't you, Rhiannon? I can hear your heartbeat. I can smell your lies."

She stepped back, her hand slowly sliding down her bag's handle. She spoke to try and distract him as she reached for her knife. He slowly walked toward her, taking each step down from the altar painfully slow. "You're a wendigo." she said. "Good girl! I knew there was something different about you. So smart. So... beautiful." At this last part, his milky eyes raved over her body. To her horror, that crooked white smile was overtaken by rows of thin long teeth.

"Please don't eat me." She said, not knowing what else to say. Her voice sounded strange. He was walking crookedly and tilted his head to the other side. It reminded her of a bird, inspecting a worm. He was rapidly closing the distance and she couldn't back away fast enough. "Oh," he laughed. It was a lovers laugh. A gentle, soft sound. A sound she remembered from the drive when she would belt out lyrics in the truck. A sound from moments earlier, when she finally closed the distance between them and kissed him back. "Oh, no, baby. I'm not gonna eat 'chu. How could I?" He said. That country accent which had been so endearing only twenty minutes ago was now horrifying. "Ya see-- I was gonna. I mean, why'd'ya think I even pick up hitchhikers? Such easy meat. And I've been o-so hungry. But then you talked. And you were sooo entertaining," he said. As he spoke, her hand wrapped around the handle of the blade. She stepped onto the threshold of the church as she walked backward. There were no street lamps or town lights anywhere around. Only the moon shining down from above as he closed in on his prey. "You smell-," he deeply inhaled and briefly paused with his eyes closed before opening them again. "So much better than any human I've met before. But then I got to thinkin'-- what a waste! What a horrible waste it would be to get rid of someone so beautiful. So young, so perfect." he had finally reached her. He was talking slowly, as if he had all the time in the world. She was stumbling over sticks and had reached the thick tall grass.

He grazed a finger down her cheek. His hand was shaking like an addict in withdrawal. "It took so much self control. So, so much patience. But I can't stand it anymore. I have to make you mine." "Yours?" she said, voice shaky. Her heart was pounding. Her mind reeled as adrenaline pumped through her body.

"All it takes is for you to feed. A bit of human flesh and then you'll be like me. And we can be together, like this-- always."

She was struck with a horror she couldn't even process. He didn't want to eat her. He was going to turn her into a wendigo.

She stepped back to try and make a break for it, but he lunged forward too fast to even process and grabbed her wrist and yanked her up. Her full body weight pulled against him, but it didn't matter-- his supernatural strength was too much to even remotely hold her own against.

The knife gleamed in the moonlight as he held her arm up. He glanced at it and laughed as she tugged against him so hard she thought her arm might rip out of it's socket.

"So smart." He said as he gripped her face roughly with his free hand.

His grip tightened so painfully Rhiannon bit out a scream and dropped the knife. He leaned in to kiss her, bite her-- Rhiannon didn't know what. He froze inches from her mouth. With her other hand, she had caught the knife before it fell to the ground and plunged it into his abdomen.

She'd only ever seen it in movies. Where other's had taught characters on the screen where to stab in order to kill a man. She dug the blade up firmly into his ribs and twisted. She couldn't believe it worked.

For a moment, she heard him grunt. Finally, the grip on his wrist loosened and he fell to the ground. Her grip on the knife was too strong, and it ripped out of his body as he fell to the ground. Her vision was red. Before she could think, she lunged down and stabbed him in the eye-- where the flesh was soft and easier to break through. He screamed and she took the knife out again before he could throw her off of him.

All she could think was his supernatural strength. If she hesitated even for a moment, he would throw her off of him and she would be dead. So she thrust the knife once more into his neck from the side. It stuck out the other end-- straight through his throat.

His blood was warm as it sprayed her from his gaping eyesocket and throat. She attempted to rip the knife forward, but it was too difficult. She had to press her foot on his chest and use both hands before she managed to rip it out straight through his throat and out the front of his neck. The blood sprayed again-- over her face and hands and body. The force of ripping out his throat caused her to fall back onto her back and she scrambled up once more.

She didn't realize just how bloody murder was. Didn't realize how slowly it took. He was gurgling, and there was a sick deep rattle coming from the back of his throat. That milky eye faded back to human. His glimmering bloody teeth retracted. He couldn't speak or scream. He began to shake uncontrollably- possibly seizing.

He continued to make those disgusting choking noises and bile rose in Rhiannon's throat. The blood continued to spray. She didn't want to, but she nonetheless plunged the knife into him again. She didn't know where the heart was, but hoped she would hit it. It was hard to get through his chest. Harder than when she stabbed the fleshy parts of his side or eye. She stood up and stomped on the hilt with all her might. It dug so far through him that the hilt disappeared within him and went straight through to pin him into the dirt.

She leaned to the side and projectile vomited next to his head. Once. Twice. Three times, before nothing came up anymore.

He stopped struggling finally. He was still alive, but his life was quickly fading. She looked him in his one good eye, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and smearing the blood in the process.

"Thanks for the ride." she grimly said. The strength of her monotone voice surprised even her. Something within her had turned off in those ten minutes. It felt like an eternity, but he finally died. She saw the life leave his eyes. Saw him stop breathing. She didn't leave until she tentatively reached down and felt for his pulse. When there was none, she stood back up and stared at him.

It felt so strangely distant. Like she had left her body and it was no longer her anymore. She vaguely thought that if she hadn't caught him by surprise, she would be dead now. Better you than me, she thought grimly.

She didn't know how long she watched him. She stood perfectly still. A night breeze cooled her face and ran through her hair. Frogs sang. Fireflies blinked in the air. It smelled strongly like copper and grass.

She reached down and tugged his wallet and keys out of his pocket.

When Rhiannon finally marched out of the tall grass and back to the path to the truck, his blood that stained her body had grown cold. It was slowly starting to dry.

She glanced back. In the moonlight she looked to where she had left his body-- knife still buried in his chest and pinning him to the earth. She couldn't see him at all hidden in the grass. If she didn't know any better, she would never guessed that Austin's corpse was laying in that overgrown field, becoming stiff and cold with each passing minute.

She drove out of the town, with his blood drying in her hair and on her hands and face and clothes. Her muscles were stiff. Coming down from the adrenaline made her shaky.

She pulled a cigarette off the dash and lit it. The smoke blew out the open window as she passed the sign that read 'Leaving Colorful Colorado'.

==

Notes: Wow, so that was heavy. The part of Stiles and his dad was inspired by Good Will Hunting. The aesthetic and overall vibe was giving Ethel Cain, so that song was pretty fitting. I really like those scenes in movies where its the last girl standing-- like the ending of the movie Hide and Seek. Cheesy, but this is a fanfiction so what do you expect? Who would have thought our little Rhiannon would become a murderer in only chapter five? Her story certainly isn't as squeeky clean as Scott's. I hope you all liked it. Let me know what you think.

PART SIX

[marginaletchings]

Apropos of nothing: I think people see Stella as "underdeveloped" because of 3 reasons:

A lot of people understandably get upset at cheating partners and sympathize with the partner who was cheated on-- sometimes to a degree they become blind to the nuances of why someone would pursue a partner outside an exclusive relationship in the first place.

Her lack of screentime.

People claiming she was "suddenly" nothing but abusive. ExCUSE me???

Warning for discussion of abuse, child abuse, childhood trauma:

The thing is... people seem to forget how verbally abusive she was for years. Stolas said it himself, and we SEE her loudly going on and on and on about his apparent lack of abilities in bed. I see fans happy to note that she's married "without consent" (as though this isn't also the case for Stolas???) and fail to understand that she is still clearly using him for status. If she were emotionally involved AT ALL, ever, do you really think she'd be going on and on about their sex life?? It would be humiliating in any other circumstance except where she uses it as leverage to demean her husband. All she's ever done is take her shit out on him. Stolas seeking comfort from someone else--albeit through dubious means--is his escape from that abuse and loneliness.

For the screentime: Tons of screentime or a lack of it isn't a good metric for how "deep" a character is. I'm also not gonna lie, not all characters need to be DEEP-- we have a fuckton of characters throughout media who are cruel, petty, and mean, but for some reason we still get to see them in a sympathetic woobified light. Stella, in my opinion, could use more screen time, sure, but do we really need to see her ~angsty backstory~ about how tragic it is that she was married to Stolas? Or maybe we could just admit, like, some people are just mean and miserable and can't take the level of shit they dish out to others. She's not angry he "betrayed" her, she's angry he's doing something she sees as disgusting and potentially ruinous to her status and standing in society.

Finally, I want to point out how she's clearly always had a terrible temper, Stolas points out she's been verbally and emotionally abusive for years, presumably the whole marriage, and she clearly neglects Octavia at "BEST." In little Octavia's room, we can see pictures she's drawn with just her and Stolas. We also see Stolas sigh when Stella tells Stolas to go to Octavia when she wakes up from a nightmare--that always came off to me like a parent absolutely frustrated with the lack of effort another parent is putting into raising their kid.

Stella is ABSENT from Octavia's life and always WAS-- Octavia is nothing to her except a means to an end. What's worse, is Octavia clearly has abandonment issues--gee I wonder why that is (Stella)--and they manifest in her fear of losing Stolas, too.

Not to get too personal here, but my parents had a similar dynamic in terms of my mom is a raging toxic shitbag and my dad is a sensitive man trying to make things work for the sake of his kid(s). I want to point out some (imo) important points here:

Stella having more "nuance" doesn't change the fact that she's still a toxic, gold-digging maniac. Regardless of her circumstances, which have always been privileged, she still chooses to be this way.

Octavia's fear really hits close to home for me. I was always close to my dad, I was the baby, the only girl and youngest by six years, and my mother was abusive and neglectful--when I was five they fought almost every night and once my mom threatened my dad with a steak knife. I grew up having nightmares into high school about being in a moving car and suddenly both my parents vanished, leaving the car without a driver on busy roads or precarious cliff edges. The fear that my dad might suddenly decide to abandon/neglect me just like my mom was an irrational but extremely understandable fear that I am STILL working through in therapy at the age of 34. Octavia actually makes me feel seen and heard in number of ways, and it drives me crazy that y'all will make excuses for Stella "only" neglecting Octavia. Fuck OFF with that.

No one thinks Stolas is without fault. Neither he nor Stella wanted that marriage on an emotional level, but judging by their behavior, and how cunning and driven Stella is (she has nuance, y'all just don't want to see it because it doesn't make her your pathetic babygirl, but an independent, conniving and ruthless demoness) she likely would've been more on board by the time they came of age and were married. Time to get power and money! And with Stolas trying to make things "normal" for Octavia, I cannot see Stella being interested in playing along. Stolas kind of just lay down and took it for years, didn't have the courage to suck it up and boot her out once Octavia was born, and started the affair with Blitz without actually using his brain beforehand.

Like. Don't get me wrong: I LIKE Stella. I hate, loathe, want to kick the teeth of people who act like her but I enjoy her as a character. Let this bitch be petty, cruel, conniving, all about living her best life (no matter the cost), and a screaming karen. Let her be Cersei Lannister, for fuck's sake: All of the above, and not as smart as she thinks she is, but she's got determination in SPADES to get what she wants.

I'll never understand why y'all are so mad about her other than just wanting more screen time. But don't let me catch you going "it's just neglect, other people had worse" or what the fuck ever. Also, her being awful doesn't make Stolas look good, it just makes the whole situation sad.

Two fucked up and extremely flawed adults are both hurting their child, but at least ONE of those adults actually gives a shit. It's a low as fuck bar, but it's Hell's royalty, idk what y'all were expecting.

PS: People who want to get shitty about this and not act like civil g-damn adults are gonna get blocked. I work 45-50 hours a week and use a cane, I am in too much pain and too tired for dumb bullshit. Y'all can either disagree politely or earn a hard block from me.

[roxasboxas]

The "Luxu is Ventus' Dad" Theory 3rd Anniversary Remastered Edition

AKA: Theorizing two characters are related based on their lack of screentime together. Because this post is now 3 years old and we have some more information, I'm finally rewriting it.

Due to the release and completion of Dark Road, we now have a more solid idea of Luxu's personality and can say with relative certainty that we never met the original Braig. That was always Luxu. This was always likely, since as far back as BBS the guy was trying to snag MoM's keyblade back from Xehanort, but Bragi's mannerisms being revealed as Luxu-isms basically confirms it 100%.

This means that Braig's one (1) shown interaction with Ventus is also Luxu's one (1) shown interaction with Ventus.

The interaction goes as follows:

Braig (who is Luxu): How 'bout you leave the popsicle with me, so you can go have your little fight with Terra. You can't be too happy about him deep-sixing your Master. Aqua: Who are you? Braig: You think you two have got some grand role to play. As if. You're only here so that when I finish you off... Terra will succumb to the darkness. So... who wants to go first? Ventus: Shut up! Braig: Oh, so this kiddo thinks he's a full-fledged Keyblade wielder? He's got the angry look down. Aqua: Go ahead if you want to waste your time. Keep trying to drive us apart with your mind games. It'll never work!

Now, this is admittedly not immediately promising, but it actually gives us a lot to work with. It's their only interaction, and it's not exactly a positive one. Even though it's only a bluff, it's still a pretty heavy threat.

[Please note, lots of things after this point, Tumblr has eaten at least once.]

But then, if it's their only interaction, then...

Why does he talk like there have been more?

For that first bit, we know he's not talking about Roxas at that point in KH2: Roxas doesn't glare at him like that during Days.

And the second image is even more interesting. Most people at this point are seeing Xion as Sora. Axel, one of her best friends, sees Sora's face. Xemnas, the guy who's made of Terra (who trained alongside Ventus for multiple years) and Xehanort (who trained Ventus for a time and grew up dreaming memories of someone else’s life that include him) sees Sora's face.

Xigbar sees Ventus. I dunno about you, but to me having one hostile interaction with a teenager ten years ago does not override psychic mumbo-jumbo better than knowing that teenager for a cumulative 4 or 5 years. Even if you have amnesia-- especially by Kingdom Hearts rules, those memories are still there, even if you don't have access to them.

(Before that line, he also comments "What a blast from the past." Wouldn't be a "blast" if they met, like, once.)

And, as of Dark Road, we know that Luxu is willing to let the people he cares about die.

Bragi's confrontation with Baldr begins with him saying "You... It was you..." in reference to Baldr having killed, like, a decent chunk of the people they know. This is not an emotionally detached reaction! Luxu cared about these people! Maybe not as peers the way they cared about him, but he did care! He does care about the ones that are still alive!

So what does he say after revealing his identity and disarming Baldr in a single motion?

He's not gonna do shit! He demonstrably could kick this guy's ass, but he chooses not to. Even though he cares about these people. Even though one of them is the grandson of someone he already demonstrably has a connection to from back before he wound up this jaded. That one, which he later on again did nothing to save, even with more and more reasons to do so stacking up.

Let's go back to the scene where Luxu and Ventus actually, you know, talk to each other, because there's actually a subtler detail in it that I want to talk about.

"Oh, so this kiddo thinks he's a full-fledged Keyblade wielder? He's got the angry look down."

In this one line of dialogue, Braig calls Ventus "kiddo." You might be wondering, "What's the big deal? He calls Roxas that all the time!" Yes, he does. He also calls him "Tiger," and Xion gets called "Poppet," both with notable regularity.

Contrast that with how he talks to, say, Sora. He still talks down to him, but he uses nicknames much more sparingly. In fact, he doesn't use any for Sora until Dream Drop Distance. All through Kingdom Hearts 2, the Organization is trying to stir Roxas' consciousness within Sora, but Xigbar doesn't call him any of the nicknames he used for and around the guy the whole time.

Not until DDD, when they've already given up on that plan. He starts out with a "sleepyhead", but there's a very specific moment I want to draw your attention to. A moment I may have neglected to mention earlier in this post, despite its relevance.

Xigbar comments on the thing Sora does that reminds him of Ventus. Then he calls him "Kiddo." And then he never calls him a nickname ever again. I'm not kidding. Never ever.

We don't see a lot of him interacting with young people outside the Heart Hotel, but we do see once in Kingdom Hearts three he calls the Real Organization's Riku Replica "Kid." Not "Kiddo," but "Kid." An interesting distinction, don't you think?

So, to recap so far: One interaction, yet Xigbar talks about Ventus consistently. He's the only one to see Xion with Ventus' face. He uses nicknames more often on kids that remind him of Ventus, and specifically uses a different variation on a kid that doesn't.

"Okay Ace," you're probably thinking, "I can accept that this proves a connection definitely exists between Luxu and Ventus. But why are you so sure that they are father and son specifically?" Well, I have a few reasons.

We don't technically know how old Luxu is, but he is an adult when Ventus is like 10 or 11. It's not impossible for them to be, like, siblings or something, since some people have kids pretty far apart, but it's not dreadfully likely to me. Based on my own experiences with my big sister, they don't really act like siblings to me, but I suppose that's a personal thing. You could say Luxu "sounds young" in Back Cover, but once you hit a certain point a lot of peoples' voices stay the same for a long time.

Nomura has stated that the next part of the series will be focusing on "bloodlines." We already know we're probably gonna be seeing Eraqus' grandfather in ML and that guy's probably gonna be Brain. Xehanort's already descended from Ephemer. Characters are already descended from each other.

Luxu is short for Luxuria, the sin of Lust. So, from a certain perspective, Xigbar canonically fucks.

[hisui555]

Hazbin Hotel thoughts : Foils 4

(Foils 1 here)

(Foils 2 here)

(Foils 3 here)

Masterpost here.

(Or the one where I'm starting to think I'm not really creative with title names.)

Anyway, I'm on a roll (seriously, what's happening. Motivation is perking up from its deep slumber. Didn't happened since last October. Is it a full blue moon tonight or...?) and I did say I was gonna talk about Lucifer and Sera, so here goes.

Lucifer VS Sera, and for good measure Charlie VS Emily. Both Lucifer and Sera come from Heaven (revelation of the century, wow, I know - oh lookit dat, my sarcasm is awake early today), happen to both be Seraphim (with Lucifer as one of the most powerful and Sera having been involved in the creation of Earth apparently, if Ep 1's intro is to be believed) and a parental figure to their younger charge : Lucifer is Charlie's literal dad and Sera is a mentor motherly figure to Emily. They also both want to protect the ones they love, but go about it in different ways : Lucifer made a deal that no hellborn demons are hurt during the yearly Exterminations, while Sera enforces Heaven's flawed system to keep the heaven-bound souls and Emily joyful and safe. However, hurt Charlie and Lucifer will come down on you like a meteor, despite having spent time estranged from his own daughter, while Sera keeps Emily out of the loop despite always being with her (they are no on-screen scenes of Emily alone up to now, even if at one point Sera did separate to talk to Adam, which means that Emily was showing Vaggie and Charlie around on her own, off-screen).

This is fairly interesting to see that while Lucifer - due to depression, growing cynism (10 000 years at least of waking up each morning and being met first thing looking out of the window by Hell's cesspool of sin and violence - the reminder of his broken dreams and awful unforeseen consequences of his well-meaning gift of free will) and plain just life going sideways with his wife missing for 7 years and his daughter going down the same road as him, also unintentionally hurting Charlie by not supporting her dreams (at first) - is not much involved in Charlie's life but still wanting to reconnect with her and is ecstatic when he has the chance to ("My daughter wants to see meeee !"), Sera is always present in Emily's life, working together with her ("It's my position as the Head Seraphim to protect our people at all costs ! And it's your position to keep them happy and joyful") in tandem : one takes care of the technical side, the other of the emotional side of things. Bread and circuses (funnily enough, Lucifer and the other Sins have a circus theme going on) - yet she's more distant and disconnected from Emily, keeping her (and the majority of Heaven) in the dark and using her position to uphold the status quo over what Emily wants or feels. Lucifer, while reluctant at first, actually agrees to help Charlie the way Charlie would like it to go, and is there to pick her up when things go south, fully supporting her once he comes around (More Than Anything and Finale).

Sera and Lucifer are also kind of two sides of the same coin : the latter is a known dreamer, extremely creative and open-minded, which blew up in his face when he changed things, unintentionally made shit hit the fan and got casted down to Hell for it. Sera on her side upholds the rules, doesn't dare to question the system, strives to not change a thing even if she seems to deeply regret how it's done, and lives in constant fear of her or her loved ones suffering Lucifer's fate. At the point of the first season, both are motivated by the same thing : fear, especially of losing or seeing their loved ones hurt, and especially this exact thing happening to their daughter figure - a very relatable thing. Yet Lucifer, after some prodding, chooses to fully stand by his daughter's side (and what's more, she (unknowingly) succeeds !) while Sera feels forced to squash Emily's hopes with the intention to spare her anguish and pain. At the end of Ep 6, both have disappointed their daughter figure at least once, but Lucifer did it in the past and strives to get better, while Sera is currently doing it and worsening things (in Ep 8, she's probably keeping Emily from intervening in any form about the Extermination). Lucifer, the fallen angel, dares to go where Sera, the high seraphim, would not, overcoming a fear Sera still can't shake off.

Quick aside, they make a nice foils triangle with Carmilla : Sera on one side as an angel not changing the status quo even if it's flawed and even if it brings her anguish and she has to put her daughter figure's feelings down for it, Carmilla on the other side as a demon who broke the rules by defeating the undefeatable to protect her daughters no matter what and helping out indirectly, and Lucifer in the middle as a fallen angel that has tried but given up, ending up doing a pendulum swing from one side to another, both with his own daughter in mind too - first not supporting her dream to avoid her getting crushed, then saying 'screw it let's do it' and standing by her side no matter what. Probably not intentional, but the fact that he starts with his more angelic form (ep 5) like Sera and ends up in his more demonic form (ep 8) like Carmilla when at peak protectiveness is smile-inducing to observe.

Charlie, Emily, Odette and Clara really should organize a tea party sometime.

Which brings us to Charlie VS Emily. Not gonna lie, they're a lot alike (the sun also rose today, also, breaking news : water is wet), idealistic, optimists, two piles of sugar sweetness in the shape of a young woman (chronological age notwithstanding) with a certain naïveté to them - basically, they're each other's counterpart in their respective realms of Heaven and Hell, as high-ranked figures in charge of seemingly less important stuff that actually have their weight : Charlie is the Princess of Hell and founder of the Hotel, wanting to repent Sinners, while Emily is a seraphim in charge of making citizens in Heaven happy. Both strive to bring joy and kindness to their own people and fully believe in their cause, so it's no wonder that they immediately click very well together. In Welcome To Heaven (both the song and episode), Emily is absolutely gleeful in meeting both Charlie and Vaggie, can't wait to show them around, and openly welcoming no strings attached (which contrasts Sera's tempering : "You're gifted to be here", and "of course it's just temporary, I'm sorry you can't stay" - she's quick to remind everyone that it's not where the two demons belong).

However Emily looks like a Charlie that's still sheltered. To be fair, while Charlie is, in some measure, still naive about her own world (though not naive enough to think every Sinner wants redemption), with not-really-thought-through plans (Puppy dog kisses and puffy-wuffy clouds, anyone ?), has grown up under the protection and love of her parents, and is ready to Fluttershit the shy (yes, you read that right) out of everyone who comes knocking, she's still out there working for it (even during Exterminations, as seen when she found Vaggie), knowing it'll be a hard road and that she's going to get rebuked a lot. She's also more or less on her own, at least since 7 years, estranged from her parents and managing the Hotel alone (later with the help of her girlfriend since 3 years). Emily on her side, from her own point of view, lives in a world where nothing is wrong (as far as she knows), has been kept away from what's really going on (though no fault of her own) and is always around her mentor, having the task of keeping people happy. The moment the truth is out, her world shatters ("What are you saying, let me get this straight - you go down there and kill those poor souls ?!") and the pedestal her mentor figure was on, in her eyes, completely falls apart. However, just like Charlie, she shows inner strength and maturity, immediately calling out and condemning said actions, showing that she's not a child to coddle - just like Charlie who is capable of showing a more competent and dangerous side. They also have both less human forms (Charlie's demon form, Emily's seraphim form) that partially pop up when they become emotional or agitated (the horns and eyes for Charlie, the halo and torso eyes for Emily).

Where Charlie rekindles her bond with her father, realizing how much alike they are and at one point having believed in the same dream before also rekindling said belief, Emily on her side ends her episode realizing how different she is from Sera, who fed her beliefs and morals she herself doesn't hold - and rightfully calls her out on the hypocrisy, because just like Charlie, who's out during Exterminations to help her own people, she's willing to risk herself (falling) for what she believes is right, fair and just. Is it any wonder why the joined duet of Charlie and Emily is such a cathartic banger ? Everyone together now !

If Hell is forever then Heaven must be a lie !

If angels can do whatever and remain in the sky !

The rules are shades of gray, when you don't do as you say,

When you make the wretched suffer just to kill them again !

As a side note, I also wanted to talk about the representation of Heaven itself : I was awaiting the classic "everyone looks like humans with wings, back to how they looked like on Earth for the Winners, with some form of uniformization", just like St-Peter basically. But the show did me one better : Heaven is just as diverse as Hell - there are animals, anthros, monster-like people, some have still object-heads and item-like bodies, just with a vaguely gold-and-white aesthetic and some angel wings. There are things that crawl, fly, twist, people with multiple eyes and limbs, fangs, gills, scales and fur, just like Hell. The only ones uniformized (and looking like flat-out classic demons) are the Exorcists - and those are the fanatics hellbent on carnage and suffering. When Sir Pentious ascends, he's still a snake, just with a more angelic-like design. Take Molly's wings out and put her in Hell, or stick them to Angel Dust and put him in Heaven, and you won't see the difference. Heaven dips just as much on the "monster, abomination, humanly incomprehensible" side as Hell, and just like Hell, not everyone is a jerk (even if not everyone is nice either. Right, Adam ?) : Emily is genuinely kind and open-minded, St-Peter is accomodating, and despite agreeing to actions that bring the misery to thousands of people, Sera is sincerely compassionate and regretful of her decisions (even if she believes them necessary - funny, since she was the one to call Charlie "misguided" earlier).

Again, it's a spectrum. There's no real box to fit people in, simply because here, Heaven and Hell are just like us humans : flawed. They have the big lines down, but the edges are blurry, and a lot of people fall through the cracks. They're like two districts of the same city, each on the opposite side of the road. Once more, people being people.

Again, Masterpost here.

[k00299539]

LSAD Seminar 01: Colour Theory with Sylvia Shortall

What is Colour Theory?

In it's most basic form, colour theory is the study of how colours relate to one another and how this, in turn, affects our perception of them. The feeling or emotion evoked by a colour or combination thereof is of particular interest this field of study.

Above: An old RTE test card from 1978 recorded by Andrew Walmsley on Youtube.

The Medium Affects the Message

An important consideration when discussing clour and colour theory is through what medium the colour is being perceived. For instance I have two desktop monitors; A pen display for digital art and an old Dell monitor from a million years ago. Due to differences in technical specifications and calibration they display colour slightly differently. The pen display is marketed toward artists for its colour accuracy, whereas the Dell monitor was basically made to for looking at spreadsheets. If I slide a picture across from one monitor to the other, I can observe the colours change in real time. In this sense, the accuracy of colours is something we can take for granted.

Above: A video which explains digital colour and how images are projected onto monitors.

Enter PANTONE

So if we can't even trust a colour to look the same between two different monitors, how on earth can brands like Coca-Cola or Starbucks slap their logo on every conceivable product under the sun with one recognisable colour?

Well for better or worse the answer is Pantone LLC and their proprietary Pantone Matching System (PMS). Basically Pantone have a specific formula to render any given colour in any given format. For instance an average computer monitor recreates colour through backlighting hundreds of tiny pixels varying shades of red, green and blue. This is known as the RGB colour model, which is considered "additive" as the colours "add" together to create their intended effect. Print media on the other hand, uses the CMYK colour model. The is a "subtractive" colour model, where the cyan, magenta, yellow, and black (K) mask one another out gradually until the desired tone is created. Pantone somehow they were able to copyright this process and have people pay them for it. If it's not obvious, I hate Pantone and here's a video that should explain why:

Above: A good video about a bad company.

Janine Antoni - Loving Care, 1993

Sylvia actually recommended I research Janine Antoni for my project, so I was happy too see her work show up in this seminar. Personally I feel colour is one of the less important aspects of this particular piece, but all the same, it's roll can't be diminished either.

The use of commercial hair dye, Antoni's long hair and the act of mopping play into stereotypes of women and their gender defined "roles" in life. The gallery floor becoming covered in dye and the audience being gradually forced back out the door they came in can be seen as an act of reclamation. In this sense Antoni is challenging gender roles by using the traditionally feminine to accomplish the traditionally masculine. For me, it brings to mind the contrast between how men and women sit in public spaces, the phenomenon of "Man-spreading". Something that is seen as a faux pas for women but normalised for men. Antoni makes the viewer confront this kind of everyday sexism.

I think she choose a monochrome colour palette here for the contrast. The deep black on the brilliant white. The Yin and Yang of those shades is often said to represent men and women. I'm gonna move on now cause I'm really just rambling about a piece of art I enjoy.

Above: Hair dye charts bear a striking resemblance to Pantone swatch booklets.

Colour for Legibility

Many maps, such as the famous London Underground map designed by Harry Beck, use abstracted visuals and colour to distinguish between and make clear what might otherwise appear as confusing and arbitrary.

Above: You can tell me which one of these two maps is more legible...

Similarly road signs are specifically engineered in such a way as to be legible under any given time of day or weather condition, regardless of colour.

The Politics of Colour

Colour can mean a lot more than simple aesthetics. As Sylvia points out in the lecture, there can be strong political associations with specific colours. A powerful example of this is how our public post boxes in Ireland were mandated to be painted green after the country achieved independence from British colonial rule. In fact the shade of green was entirely arbitrary, one could argue the act was more about the removal of the distinctly British-associated shade of red, which itself speaks volumes of the power of colour.

A similar example of the political power of colour was the #Blackout campaign to protest against racism and police brutality following the killing of George Floyd.

Copyright and Colour

Left: Yves Klein, Center: Anish Kapoor, Right: Stuart Semple

A bit similar to Pantone and their patented method of matching colour, a number of artist have gained infamy for their roles in legal ownership and exclusive use of colour.

Yves Klein, an influential french artist and pioneer of performance art. Klein, in collaboration with Edouard Adam, created a vibrant blue, reminiscent of the lapis lazuli used in medieval paintings of the Virgin Mary. This shade was dubbed International Klein Blue or IKB. Klein registered this process with the French patent institute in 1960 but never formally patented it.

Renowned British-Indian artist Anish Kapoor, known for sculptures such as "The Bean" and Sky Mirror, was granted exclusive artistic use of the super-black coating Vantablack by it's creator Surrey NanoSystems in 2014. This provoked widespread criticism across the art world.

Kapoor drew particular criticism from Biritsh artist Stuart Semple. Semple, in retaliation to Kapoor's exclusive licensing of Vantablack released a shade of pink paint called "PINK – the world's pinkest pink paint" with the specific legal caveat that it could not be purchased by or for Anish Kapoor. This spurred him on toward a movement of democratising colour, creating affordable alternatives to patented shades such as the aforementioned Vantablack but also to Yves Klein's IKB and even an alternative to Pantone's matching system.

If it's not obvious I think artists have legal exclusivity to materials of any kind is an affront to art itself, and I'm happy to see people like Semple challenging the practice.

Above: Anish Kapoor's now iconic reply to Stuart Semple after getting his hands on PINK.

Stanley Whitney and Colour

Stanley Whitney is an American painter known for his use of colour and politically motivated art. I included a video above where he talks both about important political causes like contraceptive rights and also his feelings on colour.

What I admire specifically about Whitney's work is his persistent use of a loose grid as a composition. It highlights just how much emphasis he places on colour. What speaks to the viewer in a Stanley Whitney painting are the colours and their relationships between one another.

[arcplaysgames]

so Adachi immediately gets ganked by Ameno-sagiri which

okay, Namatame's boss form was called Kunino-sagiri, and I'm gonna look this up bc it feels relevant.

'kay so, they are the gods of fog? but Ameno-sagiri is like earthly fog and Kunino-sagiri is heavenly fog. which, given where we fought him, okay. notably, they seem to be grandkids of Izanami and Izanagi.

But it appears that the actual progenitor of the fog that has been fucking shit up for the whole game is Ameno-sagiri. And their whole thing is that they aren't a bad guy, that "Mankind's desires are my desires" and deep down this is what humanity actually wants, to be taken by the fog. At every turn they choose the fog, the rumors, the easy fictions.

The "hollow forest" is a very evocative piece of imagery. I think of it less as that and more a road with blank signposts, all pointing in a direction with no bearing revealed to you. The only path you have is forward and every turn could be wrong.

Ameno-sagiri is only making things shitty and terrible to fulfill desires. And, they point out, that includes those of the team.

The Midnight Channel's explanation seems to ultimately be a manifestation of what other people want from the person? Which...

frowns

That doesn't make sense.

So okay I'm with you about people appear on the Midnight Channel because they first became famous on normal TV and the subconscious desire of the populace puts them on the Channel. Okay, sure.

But once the person is in the TV, the shadow is not born out of other people's desires for them but for their own latent, repressed emotions. The people who created Yukiko's slot on the Channel didn't know about her inner desires. They certainly didn't know shit about Naoto. That doesn't track except specifically the situation with Namatame's shadow and how it projected what the Team wanted to hear to help them justify killing him.

frowns more

Regardless, I'm gonna have to cogitate on that more later because it's not really working for me. Anyway, the team faces down this thing that says "uh actually becoming shadows is what humanity wants, they super love being in fog and shit" and the team is like "well that's one of the inherent pitfalls of democracy actually, that you need safety rails in place to ensure a turn in opinion doesn't lead to a clearly and provably bad course of action because majority opinion is not inherently sacred" and then it's eyeball kickin time

I'm gonna punt you like an overinflated beach ball

I have the power of Satan and anime on my side, you were doomed, buddy.

Anyway, ADACHI IS ALIVE?

Yosuke you are so fucking smart sometimes, I didn't even think of that.

Make some friends in jail, Adachi, idk, maybe you'll turn out okay.

Or you'll decide that's just literally too much effort and say fuck it. I mean, up to you, my dude.

CHIE TRIES TO DO A GROUP SHOUT TO CELEBRATE BUT FUCKS IT UP AND EVERYONE DEBATES IF THEY SHOULD TRY IT AGAIN AND CHIE GETS MAD BECAUSE NOW EVERYONE IS ACTING LIKE SHE'S WEIRD

lmao these kids

8)

oh my god yes thank you

[mourn-and-watch]

i'm so tempted to ask you every question on the choosing violence ask but i'll settle for 1, 3, 6, 8

1. the character everyone gets wrong

this one is gonna be obvious but anders. the thing about him is that people either hate him or love him and it usually has like. no nuance. i think i don't need to explain why i don't vibe with his haters, but i also don't vibe with a lot of anders fans because there are a lot of people who make him a victim in every situation or conflict. i'm an "anders was right" girlie through and through when it comes to the chantry, but there are so many interactions and topics where he is not, in fact, right. i love how fucked up this guy is, how vocal he is both when he knows what he's talking about and when he doesn't at all; he's very opinionated and has so many prejudices he got from his andrastian ex-circle mage background, he has no intention to be open-minded and understanding if he's not on best terms with a person or they just don't agree with him completely, these are all flaws that make him my favourite character in the series! but i know some people prefer to justify his mistreatment of other characters and simultaneously emphasize how other characters mistreat him without actually considering what these other characters bring into discussion, making him a misunderstood martyr surrounded by enemies, which just doesn't sit right with me

3. screenshot or description of the worst take you've seen on tumblr

i don't have any screenshots and couldn't find this post,but i remember there was someone who said that fiona just abandoned alistair and maric did all he could to raise him unlike her or something. it was such a wild take for many reasons, but i was additionally baffled by the fact that there are people who not only blame fiona for this (which is. yeah. a take) but also are ready to waste their time on disliking her this much. i thought only i and a couple of other people care about her enough to remember she exists out there somewhere

6. which ship fans are the most annoying?

oh. um. v//rrich//wke. there's nothing particularly wrong with the ship, i just prefer their platonic dynamic, but i started to get slightly annoyed by it because no i don't think that absence of varric romance is the ultimate flaw of this game. i also don't think varric is the only person who genuinely cares about hawke and all potential LIs are selfish pricks who take advantage of hawke by forcing them to solve their problems and don't want to give them anything in return. also the whole bianca hate is completely blown out of proportion and feels kinda misogynistic. please stop

8. common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about

the most boring and unbearable quest in dao is brecilian forest questline actually. the circle and the fade part are not that bad at all. moreover, deep roads are FUN and EXTREMELY ENGAGING and the whole vibe is incredibly creepy. y'all just don't get it

choose violence asks

[cullenakingirog]

Ever since I drew Benedicta, Anders and Fenris I have been dying to know more about them.

Because I'm a Leandra whore I want to know about your All That Remains moment. I would love to know the dynamic of how they comfort Benedicta and just how those three get along in general. I can see Benedicta having to corral a lot of fights lol but in that moment I definitely see Anders and Fenris setting their differences aside to help Benedicta through that.

udfgviudfg thanks for wanting to know about how the ship works more??? hhh

So here's the thing about Leandra and Benedicta's relationship. It's horribly complicated and a bit of a big mess. I don't think Leandra hates Benedicta but she favours Bethany over Benedicta and it is very obvious. (Some of my Leandras aren't the best mothers while some of my Leandras have great relationships with my other WS Hawkes)

So like, Benedicta grew up having to understand this weird expectation of being a caregiver, a parent, a breadwinner, a protector and so many things that if they don't succeed in doing that it makes them feel ill and anxious. Like they weren't physically hurtful but Benedicta was hurt and for years they just thought it was normal.

When she blamed Benedicta for not saving Bethany it was really because she expects Benedicta to since Benedicta's been shouldering everything for the family post-Malcolm death and it just kinda normalised this expectation for Benedicta to do these sorts of things. Then the Deep Roads Expedition happened and Leandra chooses Carver over Benedicta. "You, I could understand but leave your brother out of this." When Benedicta returned from the expedition without Carver, they got struck by Leandra hard enough to make them fall to the floor and have bruising on their face. Benedicta ended up leaving Gamlen's home to stay over at Fenris', Anders' and Varric's places. (Merrill wanted to offer her home but she realised it was too close to Gamlen's place so she chose to just constantly visit Benedicta instead)

Anyway, come Act 2 and we have Leandra proposing various suitors to Benedicta who had politely turned each of them down until Benedicta ended up sleeping with Fenris and Leandra decided that that meant Benedicta and Fenris were gonna get married now that Benedicta slept with someone. Of course, we know how the song and dance went with Fenris leaving after having sex. Benedicta respected his need for space and would only call on him or ask for his help when absolutely necessary. A few weeks later, Benedicta starts getting sick and a week later, Bodahn decides to call Anders over since Anders had been taking care of Benedicta ever since they formed a very close friendship in the later parts of Act 1 (especially thanks to the Deep Roads where Anders got exposed to Benedicta's side that involves them singing lullabies to Carver or singing a nonsense song they learned to sing as a child). Anyway, Anders finds out from Benedicta about the sleeping with Fenris things and adds two and two to find out they're pregnant. He gives them the option of keeping it or not and Benedicta chooses to keep it so Anders went into doctor mode (I HC him as someone who had helped care for pregnant mages back in Kinloch Hold as well as someone who helped deliver the babies). Benedicta swore Anders into secrecy tho into keeping their pregnancy from Fenris, at least until they have to tell him since they don't want Fenris to feel obligated to stay with them and they refuse to give Fenris another crisis over anything.

So we have Anders who stays with Benedicta to make sure they're taking care of themself - or taking care of them when they're unable to - and we have Fenris pining. Fenris actually assumed that Benedicta and Anders got together and was lowkey jealous anytime Anders would shield Benedicta from anything he suddenly considered was dangerous or whenever Anders would send Benedicta off to safety when they get ambushed.

Then All That Remains happened and Anders almost slipped into allowing Justice to take over too many times, Fenris watched as Benedicta's normally calm and warm and gentle face crumpled into grief and anguish as they held Leandra and they cried over Leandra after telling them how proud she was of them. But that wasn't even the worst of it all. On the day of Leandra's funeral, Bodahn sent two letters. One to an abandoned Hightown estate, another to a drab clinic in Darktown. Fenris arrived first and Bodahn was escorting Orana and Sandal out, smoke was coming out of the window of Benedicta's room and Fenris panicked. He ran to Benedicta's room and saw it in flames and there, in one corner was Benedicta sobbing. Fenris ran in and didn't care if the fire touched him, he noticed that Benedicta's fire spells never harmed anyone they called friend, and when he got to Benedicta, he pulled her close.

"I loved her, Fenris, I loved her and it was unfair. It was unfair of her to make me into who I am now."

Those were the words she sobbed as he held her because, at that moment, it finally sank in that all their life, what they were raised to be was wrong. Was unfair for a child and unfair for even an adult to feel this responsibility over the fate of their family, of their home, or perhaps even the world. Benedicta mourned Leandra but they were also finally, finally angry about what they experienced. They wanted to shout at their mother but it was too late. So all they could do was cry in both grief and frustration.

Anders' arrival ended the fire with him filling the room with frost to end the inferno caused by Benedicta's emotions.

"Let me, Fenris, I know how to help."

Fenris didn't want to let go since Benedicta was still holding onto him tightly but he did, choosing to trust Anders in this. He watched as Anders spoke to Benedicta in hushed words and allowed Benedicta to lean on him as they calmed down, he was chanting "Forgive yourself." to them like a prayer and a spell. It took a very mild sleeping spell from Anders to help Benedicta calm down completely. Anders offered to take Benedicta to his clinic and Fenris agreed, adding that he will drop by to make sure they were safe.

After ensuring that Bodahn, Orana and Sandal were safe, Fenris and Anders worked together to fix Benedicta's burned room. Bodahn helped and Orana dropped by with new things to replace the broken and burned ones. Fenris and Anders set aside their differences in that instance though neither will admit it or the fact that they grew to even like the other's help and presence and when Benedicta woke up, the two were also there to help. (Merrill helped Benedicta with processing their sense of responsibility being fucked up but Anders and Fenris were the ones that started them opening up about what they went through growing up.)

This ask got rather sad but uidxgidxufv it's All That Remains ogvdxfuv

[sinswithpleasure]

The Playgirl (ft. LOONA's Yves) [Part 2] [Female Reader]

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

Hello! I'm back with part 2!

Futa!Yves x Fem Reader, just in case ya forgot.

If you prefer, this is also on AO3 and AFF!

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

Yves shows up on time for tutoring, to your surprise.

"Hey baby."

"Don't 'baby' me."

"Sure. Let's start."

"Alright. Open up the textbook. We're starting from the basics. I've printed out some of the prerequisites for this topic, since what you did last time wasn't up to standard due to lack of practice of the basics. Now…"

Yves listens attentively. In fact, things go a bit too smoothly for the both of you. Yves doesn't make any cheeky quip, pull out any pet names, or flirt with anyone that passes by. The womanizing playgirl you knew disappears, and in its place is a focused, dedicated young woman. Sometimes, you even find yourself staring at her work on the problems in front of her. The change is… welcome, to say the least.

Your eyes roam Yves's styled hair, swiped back to expose her forehead, down to her beautiful large eyes, button nose, and full lips.

God, you're gay. Sure, you're literally admiring the beauty of the most insufferable bane of the universe, but you're just so fucking gay and hot people are hot, no matter how irritating they are, so...

When your eyes shift back up, you're met with Yves's smirk.

"See something you like, babe?"

Fuck.

"N-no."

"Liar."

"Fuck off." You rush to change the subject. "How're you doing?"

"I've been done for a while. You would know if you weren't spending the time looking at me."

You refuse to dignify her with a response, checking through the solved problems. With your coaching, Yves manages to get two more questions correct as compared to last time, but she still makes some simple mistakes.

"Okay, here's the issue. In question two…"

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

Yves continues to show up for every tutoring session. Somehow, a week passes by, and it is now Friday.

"Good afternoon, babygirl."

"Don't 'babygirl' me. How many times do I have to say it?"

"Mm, whatever. How're you doing?"

"Why do you care?"

Yves pulls out the chair next to you, leaning back on it, resting her legs on the table. She turns to you, grinning.

"Of course I'd care! You're my tutor, and if you don't feel good, you won't be able to teach me properly. If I don't get taught, I won't learn, then I'll fail, and I don't get to win. You know that I always win."

"I'm not sleeping with you."

"That's what you say, but not what you mean."

"Fuck you."

"That's what you'll be doing in five months' time."

"No I won't. Bring out the Calc textbook. We're going through Chapter 4 today."

"Alright, babygirl."

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

The change in Yves becomes apparent when she somehow is present earlier than you on Monday morning.

"Yves?"

"Oh, hey babe."

You sigh at the pet name, but having heard her call you that for quite some time now, it doesn't grind your gears as much anymore.

"Don't 'babe' me."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever."

Yves returns her attention to the papers she is working on, and the familiar math problems catch your eye.

"Calc?"

"Yeah. I promised I'll be the best student. Here I am."

"We'll see about that."

"You're looking at it right now." Yves rises from her chair, and in a flash, she has her arm around your waist, her face inches from yours. "I'm going to win, babygirl."

"G-Get off me!" Your face reddens instantly at the close proximity of your lips to hers. Memories of the chaste kiss Yves planted take front and center stage, and you can't help but look away from Yves.

"You're so pretty."

Yves has her gaze locked on your lips, then to your eyes. She is so close, too close, even. Heat flashes all over your body—every touch Yves leaves on you seems to burn.

"I mean it. You're gorgeous."

"T-Thank you."

The smug smirk never leaves Yves's face. She releases you from her smoldering gaze and grip, but she leaves you with a rapidly beating heart and a large distraction for the day to come.

When class begins, Yves tries to take the time to listen to the professor. However, she is soon back to her old ways, flicking paper balls at classmates and being on her phone more than she listens.

"Yves."

"Yeah, baby?" She meets your gaze, her tongue darting out to moisten her dry lips. Her hands carry on working on moulding another tiny paper ball.

"You're not listening."

"I am!"

"What was the last thing the prof said?"

"Um…"

You roll your eyes.

"Best student, my ass."

"I made that promise to you, not to him."

"You won't learn if you don't listen to him either. How're you going to be the best if you can't even do that?"

"Oh, so that's how it is?"

"That's right." You think hard about the words you want to say next, but maybe… maybe it is worth the risk. After all, Yves is still the bane of your existence, but she could be less of that if she keeps up her effort in trying to learn.

"You don't get to fuck me if you're not the best."

You watch as Yves freezes. She stares at you, her jaw hanging, before she steels her gaze to your eyes, staring deep into your soul.

"So this is how you wanna play, babygirl?"

"Yeah." You can feel your bravado slowly disappearing.

"Fine. I'll listen. I'll play by your rules."

Yves leans to your ear, her breath sending shivers down your spine. Her deep whisper makes you shudder.

"You will be mine at the end of the year, baby. I promise you: I'll ace my exams, and you'll love me for it."

Perhaps provoking your seatmate wasn't the best idea. Now you have to deal with the deep flush on your face and neck, as well as the heat between your legs.

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

A month passes.

Every week, the same things go by—tutoring, classes, more tutoring, more classes. However, what changes is how close you and Yves get with each other. By no means were the both of you friends, but she isn't as much of a thorn in your side anymore.

[yves💘 sent a message:]

Baby

I need a bit more help with the math from the last chapter.

Can I see you this weekend?

Saturday, 10am, Seoul U entrance?

[You sent a message:]

Sure.

I'll see you.

[yves💘 sent a message:]

Good.

Dress nicely, baby. It's a date.

[You sent a message:]

Fuck off.

You groan when Yves manages to charm you through text. Outfit ideas are already flowing through your head, and you sink your face into the comfort of your palms. Why do you even care about looking pretty for Yves?⁶

Well… that genuine grin she flashed after a muffled gasp of surprise when you wore a dress once in the past month was gorgeous on her. That was why.

You remember Yves actually having the slightest hint of a blush when looking at you, and she seemed to be a little less flirty that day, opting to take short glances at you when she thought you weren't watching. This newfound attention was… welcome. You couldn't deny feeling shy having Yves check you out. After all, you were just the nerd girl in class, and having this attention from a hot girl you could consider a crush not as much of a pain in your ass felt so good.

-----

Saturday arrives, and here you are, waiting outside Seoul University.

You choose to keep things simple: just a simple button-down dress with daisies printed on the fabric. Your hair is tied up in a cute bun. The pink backpack you carry completes the look, with a nice pair of flats.

The sun isn't too bright, and a cool breeze keeps you comfortable while waiting. You can't help but get nervous, though you know it is irrational to feel so. After all, this is just another study session. However, Yves's text to you earlier in the week keeps flashing across your eyes.

'Dress nicely, baby. It's a date.'

You know this is just a study session. However, a part of you dimly wishes that it isn't, before you hurriedly bash those thoughts with a hammer and then set them on fire.

The revving of a motorbike catches your attention before it zooms down the road. You can see the bike move across the lanes, then slowing to a stop in front of you. The rider, clad in all black leather, complete with jacket and boots, seems to freeze in front of you, before slowly drawing the helmet off their head.

"Hey, babygirl."

Yves grins at you, her eyes sweeping over your body. Her gaze lands on your legs, moving up to your torso, your chest, and then to your eyes and hair.

The next words she mutters are meant to be kept to herself, but you hear her anyway.

"Fuck, you're gorgeous."

Your heart takes off, pounding against your chest. You try to hide the flush on your face by staring at the ground, but you field a gaze to Yves, who looks a bit like a deer caught in headlights. She looks so handsome, so cool, and downright fucking hot at the same time.

Hmm… What would it feel like being pinned under her again?

The intrusive thought you have gets stamped out instantly, but the effect lingers—you can't help but check Yves out, feeling a rush of heat deep within your loins.

Her agreement with you was starting to look more and more appealing. Maybe you do have to teach her well.

"Get on."

"What?"

"Let's go. I gotta park the bike, and the cafe isn't close by. Get on."

Yves hands you a spare black helmet, and you hesitantly take it.

"Don't kill me."

"I won't." She grins. "I like you too much to think about doing that."

Your breath catches in your throat. It's not uncharacteristic of her to say things like that so easily, but maybe… just maybe… you want her to mean it.

You get onto the bike as Yves holds it steady. You don't know where to put your hands, but Yves grabs your arms, pulling them to wrap around her waist.

"Hold on tight, babygirl."

"Okay." You can't believe what's happening right now.

"I'm gonna go."

The engine revs.

-----

Yves trails behind you as both of you make your way to the cafe. Yves is quiet along the way, unlike her usual flirting if she caught you staring at her. When you glance back to her, you see her eyes dart away from you, staring at the floor as she swipes her hair back.

Weird.

"Hey, are you okay?"

"Oh, yeah. Never been better, baby." Her reply is unconvincing, especially with a forced grin, but you don't want to really push her for a reply.

"Er… Okay. Sure."

Both of you make your way into the cafe, stopping by the counter to grab the menu. When you sit down at a table, Yves sits across you, her eyes locked onto you as you peruse your options.

"You're staring a lot today, Yves."

"Oh, um, er…" She looks away, her voice soft. This is very unlike her.

"Are you really okay?"

"Yeah, baby. I'm feelin' great, ready to learn, and get good." She leans back, resting her hands on the armrests of her chair.

Oh.

She has a crop top on.

Oh my fucking God, she has abs.

You short circuit.

Two columns of defined muscle greet your eyes, as if to mock you. It wasn't like she was someone you didn't find hot. Now, you have to find out that she also has abs?!

Your mouth dries instantly, and you grab your bottle, taking a swig. The cool liquid quenches your physical thirst, but your mental thirst…

"Don't look too much, babygirl. You might get hypnotized."

Yves tilts your chin up with a finger, moving to lean close to your face.

"My eyes are up here."

Holy fucking shit, she's so fucking hot.

You wonder how you didn't notice them when she had that fishnet and crop top combo. Maybe her pants covered them, maybe you were blinded in your dislike for her. Whatever, you've seen them now. No reason to stop… respectfully staring, especially when you can.

"Look at me."

You meet Yves's smoldering gaze.

"Keep your eyes up here, babygirl." Her warm breath against your lips makes you yearn to lean in and close the gap. "I don't want them anywhere else when they're so beautiful."

You whimper involuntarily, and Yves chuckles.

"You're so fucking pretty, you know that?"

The shame that burns when you squeak and break your gaze to hide in the pretense of reading the menu is something you don't want to admit that you feel coursing through your veins, but it's there. When you lower the menu, Yves has her chin in her palm, her head tilted to the left, a satisfied grin on her features.

"I mean it, baby. You look really pretty today."

"T-Thank you."

"You're welcome. Let's order, I'm starving."

"Okay."

"Oh." Yves leans towards you, lowering the menu to stare into your eyes once more. "You'll get to see what you want to see when I ace the exams. Be patient, babe."

You groan.

-----

That night, you toss and turn on the bed incessantly. Every time you close your eyes, you can feel hot breath across your lips, smell the scent emanating off Yves, and sense her burning gaze on you. Yves's handsome features are burnt deep into your head, and just the thought of her sends your heart pounding and temperature rising.

You think of her abs under her clothes, the defined muscle jumping out to your eyes. She already looks so good, so delicious, and yet, things only go up from here.

The rush of heat between your legs doesn't help things.

You turn again, ignoring your basest desires. Bedtime it is.

[princessphilly]

All Bets Are Off Chapter 12

Word Count: 

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Join the tag list here!

CW: smut, filthy talk

This is a bit of a filler chapter, sorry. 

“Are you going to miss me?”

Nina didn’t even look up from her iPad. It was so annoying yet adorable at the same time, how Sidney was desperately trying to get her to tell him how much she was going to miss him. 

“Um, I think you’re going to miss me more than I’ll miss you,” Nina finally replied. She grinned as Sidney huffed. 

The first month of the new year had passed by pretty quickly to Nina. After being together for New Year’s Eve, Nina and Sid separated as the Pens had to finish off their road trip. Nina stayed in Miami for Jason’s game before taking an extra week just for herself. It was nice to have a bit of a vacation, especially when Lauren flew down. Nina basically enjoyed being on the beach, hanging out with a close friend, and shopping. 

The morning of New Year’s Day, after having their first breakfast together of the new year, Sid had given Nina a card. Nina was shocked to see a credit card with her name on it and she had tried to give it back but Sid had insisted. “You don’t treat yourself enough, pretty girl,” he had firmly stated. So Nina took advantage of it to treat herself a bit. 

By the time she came back to Pittsburgh, Sidney’s road trip was over but Nina’s semester had started. They had a couple of weeks where they spent time together as much as possible before the Pens had another short road trip. Now, Sidney was on his way to the Olympics in Beijing for their longest separation so far.

Sidney finally had his bag packed the way that he liked it. Glancing at Nina laying on their, um, his bed, he drawled, “Are you sure you aren’t going to miss me?”

Nina looked up and giggled. “You hog the sheets, Sidney. And you’re like a furnace when you sleep.”

Sidney walked over to the bed, crouching over Nina. “Hurting my feelings right before I have to take a long flight. Tsk tsk.”

“Your flight leaves tomorrow. You’re just making sure you are totally prepared tonight. Stop being so dramatic, Sidney Crosby.”

Sidney smirked as he brushed a hand down Nina’s front. She was clothed, wearing one of his t-shirts. “Still, Nina. 

“Still, Sidney.”

Nina stuck out her tongue at Sidney as he giggle-honked. Sidney brushed an errant strand of hair off of Nina’s forehead as he whispered, “I wish you were coming.”

“It was too short of a notice to take almost three weeks off, Sid,” Nina murmured. “Plus, hasn’t it always just been your family attending the Olympics?”

“Yes?”

Nina smiled. “Then, I would be breaking your tradition and your superstitions-”

Sidney opened his mouth to disagree but Nina put a finger over it. “Don’t even start, we both know how important ALL of your superstitions are. Even if you wouldn’t say it, if you lose without a gold medal and I'm there, part of you would be wondering. So quit the bullshit, Sidney.”

Sidney gave Nina a chagrined smile as she laughed at him. She was right, as always.

“Sid, it’ll be fine. You’re lucky I’m a morning person, you can call me crazy early here and I’ll pick up,” Nina reasoned. 

Sidney pouted a bit. “I finally got you to actually date me, I don’t want to be separated from you for that long.”

“How cute, Mr. Obsessed-with-Hockey has become soft in his old age.”

Nina squealed when Sidney tickled her, squirming. “Okay, okay, you’re allowed to become soft!”

Sidney gave Nina a soft smile and she gulped. Something shifted in that look and Nina felt like there was something new. 

Sidney bit his lip as Nina nervously laughed. In that moment, the pure joy on Nina’s face as she squealed while he tickled her, Sidney was sure that he loved her. He loved Nina. But this was the wrong time to admit that. So he chuckled and said, “If I’m soft, it’s only because of you.”

Nina stuck out her tongue and rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

Sidney chose not to respond to that statement, instead choosing to slide his lips over hers. Soft and sweet, exploratory as they kissed, not their usual hungry kisses. Then Nina wrapped a leg around Sidney’s waist and the mood changed. 

Nina ended the kiss first, whispering, “I can feel that someone is going to really miss me.”

“Going to miss you so much,” Sidney replied, grinding his hips into Nina’s core. “Let me show you.”

Nina gasped as Sidney sucked along her neck, just light enough not to leave any marks. “Gonna give you something to remember while I’m gone,” Sidney promised as his hands went under her shirt before pulling it off. 

Nina grinned before moaning as Sidney began to do exactly what he promised to do.

**

Sidney sighed as he sent the text. Everything was going great, even after a couple of hiccups in their first group stage games. This year, it was obvious to Sidney that this was going to be the last Olympics for him. Except for him, Tazer, Bergy, Tanger, Webs, Price, and Giroux, all of the other players on the team were under 30. Sidney saw his job as captain this year to not just get one more gold, but get the younger guys ready to take over. 

Right now, they were getting ready to play against Germany, their first game after the group stage, the real games. It was before pregame; the players whose families had come to Beijing were giving well-wishes. At this moment, Sidney wished Nina was here with him instead of home in Pittsburgh.

His phone pinged and Sidney relaxed when he saw the message: its midnight here. Good luck. Im g2g2 sleep. Bye

That message was quickly followed by another one: why the hell did they schedule yall for so fucking late? figured canada would be primetime here

Sidney laughed when he saw Nina’s message. Giroux looked at him, raising an eyebrow. “Must be the elusive girlfriend.”

Giroux’s wife elbowed him, causing him to say ow. Sidney snickered; they may be teammates for Team Canada but their truce was still a fragile truce. Ryanne Giroux said, “I heard Nina’s very sweet and kind.”

“Oh?”

Sidney was suddenly very curious. Blithely, Ryanne replied, “You know as well as I do it’s a small league. People only have the kindest things to say about her.”

Relaxing a bit, Sidney grinned. “Nina’s pretty fucking amazing. I’m lucky she likes me.”

“Oh God, he’s talking about Nina again.”

Sidney’s grin turned into a smile as Tanger clasped him on the back. Tanger continued, “It took five years-”

“Five years,” Giroux asked as Sidney groaned. “Stop giving him chirp material.”

Ryanne snickered as Sidney’s phone pinged again; kris says ur bragging about me again?

“Really, Tanger, really?”

Kris laughed as Sidney narrowed his eyes. “Calm down, Sid.” 

Before Sidney could reply, Nina sent him another text: score a hat trick

Sidney gave his phone a soft smile. It was time to get focused for the game, so Sidney put his phone away as soon as he went back into the locker room.

**

Nina cracked an eye open. The time difference was a motherfucker; it was 5:45 am but 5:45pm. Yawning, Nina sat up in her bed as she accepted the call from Sid. 

“Nina, really?”

“Good morning to you,” Nina yawned. 

Sid slightly frowned. Nina was wearing a team USA t-shirt. Her shorts were blue. Even her sleep bonnet was blue. 

“I’m not Canadian, Sid.”

“Stilll-“

Nina smirked as she shook her head. “No, I’m not rooting for you. Score as many goals as you want, I’m Team USA.”

Sidney scowled as Nina laughed. “It’s not even like the US made the gold medal game!”

Nina was disappointed in Team USA. She was hoping they would make it to the gold medal game but they were going to go against Finland for Bronze. Tomorrow, at 8am Beijing Time, 8pm EST, Canada was going against Sweden for gold. 

“Still, you should be rooting for me.”

“I am,” Nina reasoned. “I want you to score all the goals. But, I just cannot root for Canada, yet.”

“Yet.”

Nina looked up to the ceiling before yawning again. Sidney was in a snit. She felt a tiny bit bad for Sweden because they were going to get it. But that wasn’t her problem. “Seriously, good luck, Sidney.”

“Thank you, Nina.”

Nina blew Sidney a kiss and he pretended to catch it. Then he licked his lips. “How many days did you take off when I get back?”

“Three, Sidney. Just three.”

Nina couldn’t help the rush of heat in her center when Sidney drawled, “I don’t plan to let you out of my house then.”

“Win the damn gold then,” Nina snapped. 

Sidney chuckled, saying, “You’re ready to go back to sleep then. Sweet dreams, Nina.”

“Bye, Sid.”

**

Nina looked down at her phone. There were three messages, long messages, all from Sid. She took in a deep, fortifying breath. Canada had one gold and Sidney had two goals. From the highlights, it seemed like Sidney was on a mission the whole game. Sighing, Nina pressed play on the first one. It was just a noisy celebration, nothing big until Sidney started talking. His talking was garbled at first and Nina laughed when she realized that he was drunk off his ass when he called her. 

The second voicemail started just as garbled, then Nina heard Sidney clearly say, “I’m so happy we won, I still wish you were here, you’re my new lucky charm, pretty girl. Fuck, I love you so much, pretty girl, you make everything better now that you’re mine.”

The next one was just sappy as the second, but Sidney was definitely somewhere quieter with this one. But he was also just as drunk, as he ended by saying, “I wanna fuck you when I get back, with you wearing my gold, pretty girl. This gold is almost as pretty as you.”

Nina ruefully laughed, already expecting apologetic texts from Sidney when he was sober. But for the rest of the day, the thought lingered in her mind, the idea that Sidney loved her. However, her patients kept Nina busy and she didn’t get a moment to really ruminate on that. Then, Nina went over to Karesha’s house to babysit her play nephew, AJ, as Karesha went out with her boyfriend. 

Within an hour of leaving, Karesha came back in, heated as she slammed the door. AJ commented, “He must have made Mom mad again.”

“AJ, please go upstairs and play with your Legos, Mommy needs to talk to Aunt Nina,” Karesha asked, trying hard to control her voice. 

AJ quickly ran up the stairs, loudly closing the door to his room. Karesha flopped on the couch, kicking off her expensive heels. “Fuck men.”

Nina got up and grabbed a bottle of whiskey and two shot glasses. Pour shots, she passed one to Karesha before sitting back down next to her friend. Karesha gratefully smiled before downing the shot. 

“I’m tired of this shit. I told him it was over through text. How dare he say he’s coming up to Pittsburgh before spring training and then text me after I get to the restaurant to say he’s not coming after all. I’m done. I can’t.”

Nina murmured sympathetically, “Fuck him.”

“I’m so glad I never brought him around AJ though,” Karesha stated. “He had the nerve to say I spent too much time with my kid when I told him it was over.”

Nina’s eyes widened at that statement. “What are you supposed to do? Parent him less?”

Thoughts about Sidney were forgotten as Nina consoled her friend. Deciding to sleep over, Nina woke up early in the morning on the couch, several texts from Sidney waiting for her. Nina quickly scanned over them, starting with a text telling Nina his flight was about to come in to the last one asking if everything was okay. Nina sent him a message: friend had a crisis, be over around 10

It was early, around 7am so Nina didn’t expect to get a response. But Sidney replied: everything ok?

As ok as it’s gonna be, don’t worry, Nina sent back before straightening up Karesha’s living room. She then slipped out, locking the door from the inside. 

**

“Gonna get you full with my cum, pretty girl. Fuck, look at you, your pussy already trying to milk my cum.”

Nina groaned as she watched Sid fuck her, claiming her. Her legs were over his shoulders, allowing Sidney to fuck her deep. “You missed me, pretty girl?”

“Uh huh,” Nina managed to say. He was fucking her so good, each stroke hitting her g-spot. It was like Sidney returned as a man on a mission. 

“I missed you. Dreamed of you every night, Nina,” Sidney rasped. 

“Mmmm.”

Nina no longer had words, she could feel her high coming. Then she felt Sidney’s fingers, just two fingers on her clit and it was enough to send her over the edge. Nina screamed, her nails digging into Sidney’s back. That was enough to get Sidney to reach his high as well, his grunts wordless as he came. 

Nina sighed as Sidney withdrew, already sad at feeling empty. Sidney sat back on his haunches, watching as his cum started to leak out of Nina’s pussy. “I’ll never get enough of seeing that,” he remarked as he played with Nina’s clit. “Just for me, pretty girl.”

Moaning, Nina closed her eyes. She was sensitive but she felt herself respond to Sidney’s fingers. Then his fingers were replaced with his tongue, his fingers fucking his cum deeper inside of her pussy and the time for rational thought was gone. 

**

Six weeks later

Nina sighed as she rifled through her bag for the keys to her apartment. Today was her thirty-first birthday and for some reason, she felt weird. ‘Maybe it’s because I’m now on the other side of thirty,’ Nina thought to herself. 

The morning began with happy birthday texts from friends, birthday calls from Mom and Dad, and a facetime call with Jason. Sidney had sent her a funny meme birthday text but nothing else. Nina knew she shouldn’t feel too bad; the Pens were trying to solidify their playoff spot in the division and her birthday, April 5, fell right at the end of the season. As she opened the door, Nina hoped that Sid would at least do something once the playoffs were over. At the same time, it felt weird that she wasn’t going out with her parents either.

Just her luck that for the first time she was in a relationship around her birthday, her boyfriend had reasons not to take her out. Nina sniffled as she turned on the light.

“SURPRISE!!”

Nina gasped as Sidney, Kris, Geno, Anna, Catherine, Taylor, Alex, Victoria, Mario, Nathalie, Guentzy, Tristan, Hannah, Karesha, AJ, Lauren, her mom and dad, and Aryanna jumped out. Eyes wide, Nina burst into tears. 

“Oh no, what’s wrong pretty girl,” Sidney replied, folding Nina into his arms. 

Nina sniffled as she cried, “I thought everyone forgot my birthday!”

“I told you she wasn’t going to take it well,” Karesha muttered as Lauren kicked her. “Girl, be happy he did this all for you when he could be extra obsessive about the playoffs.”

Nina cut her eyes at Karesha before getting on her tiptoes to press a kiss to Sid’s cheek. “Thank you, Sid.”

**

The pictures of that night were put into a small scrapbook. Nina didn’t understand Sidney’s love for documenting memories in such a dramatic way but it was nice to look back at the memories in book form instead of having to scroll through her phone. Playoffs were now starting though so Nina was sure that would be the last carefree time until the playoffs were over, this time hopefully with another cup.

[radiorenjun]

I Don't Need It

• Pairing: Na Jaemin x Reader

• Genre: Angst, Comedy, Fluff

• Na Jaemin despised the idea of soulmates, he wanted to fight against fate for choosing his soulmate for him. Even if it means his stubborn childhood best friend wouldn't stop trying to make him accept about the similar tattoos on their wrists.

• Masterlist here!

• Chapters: vi, vii

As Jaemin walked to his car to drive to school, he spotted you walking out of your door with a textbook in hand. He raised his hand, his mouth opening to call out your name when the scene from that night flashed through his mind. He sighed at the thought as he watch you walk to the bus stop without sparing a glance in his direction.

'Is she really that upset? It was just an old music box, after all.' Jaemin thought as he got into his car and turned his keys. 'She's just being petty, I bet if I offer her a ride to school. She's gonna go back to square one. Typical y/n," he smiled to himself, remembering the times where you two had arguments and one of the two of you would apologize when Jaemin offered you a ride.

Jaemin drove to catch up with you before you reach the stop, to his surprise, he saw Huang Renjun walking up to you with a bright smile, slinging an arm over your shoulders. Jaemin's blood ran cold at the sight of you smiling and rolling your eyes at the boy.

Jaemin forgot Renjun lived a few houses away from them, then again, he hasn't talked to Renjun much since Renjun left the team to join the arts club. 'What am I doing?' he thought to himself, running a hand through his hair as he let out a heavy sigh, his eyes never leaving the road as he drove by your laughing figures.

'This is what I wanted right? For once I don't have y/n constantly asking bout me or flirting with me or clinging onto me all the time. I should be happy that she finally got it to her head' he told himself. If that's so, why does he feel so empty? Why does he feel like something's missing deep inside of him.

Once he got to the school, he walked to his lockers only to be greeted by Donghyuck, who ran up and slung an arm around his neck. "If it isn't Mr. Na Jaemin." Donghyuck greeted with a cheeky grin as Jaemin smiled in response. "Good morning to you, too, Hyuck." he chuckled.

"I haven't seen you in a while," Hyuck clicked his tongue nonchalantly as they walked side by side, his arm hanging on one of Jaemin's shoulders. "Well if only your boyfriend didn't graduate early, I wouldn't be spending all my time with Coach." Jaemin laughed.

"As much as I am happy that Mark graduated early, I still can't believe he left me to rot here alone with nobody to talk to." he pouted, scrunching his face dramatically. "You're talking to me, though." Jaemin teased. "Exactly, you're a nobody, Mister Na." he deadpanned in response.

Jaemin playfully shoved the boy away from him, eliciting a laugh from the both of them as they walked to Jaemin's locker, spotting Jeno running through his own. "Good morning, Jeno." Jaemin smiled, unlocking his locker beside him.

"Did you two know we had homework on Biology?" Jeno exclaimed frantically, trying to find his textbook. "The one that's worth 5% of our grade? Yep," Hyuck responded with a bright nod. "Fuck, I'm definitely failing this class." Jeno groaned, running a hair through his black hair before shutting his locker.

Jaemin chuckled at his friend's misfortune, shaking his head with a soft "tsk tsk". "Oh lookie here, your future wife is heading this way, Nana." Hyuck teased, using the nickname you had made for him back when you two were 12 years old. "Get ready to feel single, Jeno." he added.

Jeno pointed an accusatory finger at the younger boy, "Hey! Mark graduated, you're gonna feel lonely with me, this time!" making Hyuck stick out his tongue. They were both too busy quarreling to acknowledge Jaemin's empty expression as she passed by them without your usual friendly 'hey'.

But they were shocked to see you walking side by side with your friends, your hand inside Renjun's. "Uh, Jaemin, y/n's right there." Hyuck nudged the boy beside him with his elbow. Jaemin looks up from his gaze at your hand inside Renjun's as you disappeared in the crowd of students.

"What? So?" Jaemin retorted almost defensively, eyes looking everywhere except for his friend who was staring at him in disbelief. "What do you mean 'so' ?! Your girlfriend just walked by without sparing a glance at us! Plus she was holding hands with Renjun," Hyuck exclaimed in disbelief.

"For the billionth time, Hyuck. She's not my girlfriend!" Jaemin spat, annoyance laced in his tone. Hyuck rolled his eyes, "whatever she is, she's holding hands with another guy, dude!" he shot back. Jeno sighed, putting a hand on Hyuck's shoulder, giving him a look of disappointment.

"They had a little fight the other day," Jeno explained briefly. "And she's being petty by giving me the silent treatment," Jaemin growled, shutting his locker and leaning his back against it with a click of his tongue. "What did you do this time?" Hyuck sighed, his expression lightening at the new information.

"Why do you always assume that I'm the one in the wrong?" Jaemin exclaimed, laying a hand on his chest, offended at the accusation. Jeno raised a brow as if to say 'really?', Hyuck giving him a similar look that mirrors Jeno's. Jaemin looks down in guilt, a frown evident on his face as he bit his lip to explain.

"It's not a big deal really. I just told her to leave me along once and for all," Jaemin shrugged as if it was no big deal, looking back at the crowded hall of students. "Not a big deal, my ass. Bro, you also broke her music box without an apology." Jeno stated with a roll of his eyes.

Hyuck's face contorted into a surprised frown, his mouth gaped. "Dude, that's a little harsh, don't you think? She must be genuinely upset to be giving you the silent treatment." Hyuck remarked, his eyes wide in disbelief. "Well at least Jaemin won't be complaining bout her annoying him all the time now that she's ghosting him, right Jae?" Jeno raised a brow at the younger boy.

Jaemin wasn't listening to anything they were saying as his eyes couldn't tear away from the two figures that were you and Renjun talking side by side as you grabbed your stationary from your locker. He felt his chest tightening, aching with a numb pain. What's going on? Why is he feeling this way?

"Jaemin?" Jeno's voice snapped Jaemin back into reality, his eyes widening slightly at the concerned tone as he diverted his gaze back to his friends. "Huh, what?" Jaemin mumbled, trying to ignore the numbing ache in his chest. "You okay?" he asked.

"I don't know, I kinda don't feel well, right now." Jaemin's brows furrowed as he watch you and Renjun walk to class side by side. at the corner of his eye. "We have a few minutes to class, you should go to the Nurse's office." Hyuck advised as he raised his brow in concern.

"Um, alright then," Jaemin nodded, "see you guys later." he waved to his friends before walking to the nurse's office with confusion. What's up with him? He was fine this morning, what's with the sudden pain in his chest?

Unbeknownst to him, his two friends were watching him walking away with concern looks on their faces. "So, I wasn't the only one who saw how sad he looks when he watched Y/n and Renjun right?" Hyuck muttered to Jeno, who nodded in agreement. "That dumbass is gonna have the tables turned, I just wonder what he's gonna do once he realizes that a human heart can't pratically live without the love of his soulmate." Jeno chuckled.

Jaemin was scrolling through social media when you entered the class, his eyes wandered up for a small moment to give you a short glance, examining your figure standing on the doorway as if you haven't been attending the same class for three years.

His eyes quickly went down to his phone when he saw your head turn to his direction, walking right towards him. 'Of course, she's still gonna sit next to me.' he chuckled internally to himself, 'that's typical of her.' he thought.

He felt your presence close to his when you passed by him to sit at the empty seat at the back of the class. He frowned slightly, quickly masking it with a stoick expression as he hears the not so subtle chatters and whispers of his name and y/n's spilling from his classmates' mouth.

"Wait, y/n's not sitting next to Jaemin?"

"Did they have a fight or something?"

"Come to think of it, she skipped class with Renjun yesterday"

"Did she finally had enough?"

"Probably. Poor girl has been at it for two years!"

"Yikes, that's pretty harsh. No wonder she didn't even spare him a glance"

"Have you seen her left wrist? They say-"

"Good morning, class!" Mrs. Choi announced with a bright voice as she entered the class, silencing the whole students in a second. "Let's start today's lesson shall we? Open your textbooks to page 127," she smiled, raising her own copy of the textbook.

Jaemin turned his head to see you busy with opening your textbook and notes, flipping your pen in between your fingers. He quickly turned his head around as the teacher started explaining, opening his own textbook with a small pout on his face.

'Why didn't you come and sit next to him?' he pondered as he tried to advert his eyes to the whiteboard, watching you from the corner of his eye. A part of him wanted you to at least glance at him, make eye contact, anything.

But you didn't. Not even for a split second, it was as if you couldn't see him. As if you two hadn't known each other your whole lives. As if you were both strangers. Jaemin felt a slight ache in his chest, his hand stretching out to lay right on top of his heart.

He took a deep breath, his heart beat in his ears as Mrs. Choi's voice became muffled. It hurt. He doesn't know why, but his chest was hurting and he wants it to stop. It was similar to the pain when he lost on his first game and had an F on Chemistry on the same day. Yet, it was so different. It felt like his chest was actually being poked with tiny needles.

In a blink of an eye, the sound of the bell dismissing entered his ears, snapping him out of his thoughts as the pain subsided. Jaemin turned to see the students around him packing up and leaving class, causing him to jolt up and shove his textbook in his bag.

He felt y/n squeeze herself behind him, quickly leaving the class. Jaemin didn't know why but his feet quickly moved towards her, slinging his halfly zipped bag over his shoulder. His mouth opened as he reached the entrance, ready to call out your name.

His figure froze when he watched you walk up to none other than Huang Renjun. Jaemin's eyes watched as his arm slung around your shoulders, the sweet smile on your face as Renjun whispered something against your ear, eliciting a small laugh from you as the two of you walked to the exit.

Jaemin stared at the two of you with a blank expression. His pupils shaking upon your figures being pressed up against each other. His hand gripping the saddle of his bag that was slung over his shoulder tightly. He wanted to apologize for his actions and offer you a ride home, but his body wouldn't move when he caught Renjun's arm slung over your shoulder so casually.

So affectionately.

Jaemin broke his glare when he felt a slight burning sensation on his wrist. He jolted and hissed at the sharp pain as he pulled back his left sleeve, tugging down the watch to see his soulmate tattoo glowing a dimly blood red, his chest had an ugly feeling piercing his heart.

Jaemin clicked his tongue before heading to the bathroom. His wrist felt like it was burning, it felt scorching hot. Why was it burning? Jaemin acted on instinct and ran his wrist under the tap of cold running water, ignoring his underclassmen passing by and greeting him as they walked out of the boy's bathroom.

Jaemin rubbed the sore spot, his mind remembering the way Renjun's arm slung over your shoulder, laughing alongside you. And your smile. He doesn't remember the last time you smiled that wide for him, Jaemin hissed at the increasing pain on his wrist.

Jaemin winced and jolted as he felt as if something was stabbing him repeatedly in the chest, he slide down the walls of the now empty bathroom. He took silent deep breaths to try to calm himself, running a hand through his hair in distress.

What's going on?

"Day 3 of Huang Renjun being extra nice to the poor girl who's bout to be single for the rest of her life, what will he do today?" you spoke in a way a news reporter would, holding your fist up to your mouth to act as a microphone as you walked towards Renjun who was waiting for you outside of class.

"Shut up, you're saying that I can't be nice to my dearest best friend?" Renjun teased, slinging an arm around your shoulder as you both walked out of the entrance. "Its definitely abnormal to see you restraining yourself to not flick me on the forehead whenever I do something stupid." you shrugged.

You felt the boy flick your forehead gently, causing you to let out a small yelp. "Happy?" Renjun smiled sweetly, as your hand went up to rub the slightly sore spot on your forehead. "Very," you rolled your eyes at him as he let's out a light chuckle.

At the corner of Renjun's eye, he saw Jaemin not far behind you two. His head was looking down at his wrist, his hand tugging down the sleeves. Renjun assumed he was taking a look at his soulmate mark, a frown evident on the younger boy's face.

Renjun almost felt bad. Jaemin seemed like a lost puppy, standing all by himself as students walked away. But yet again, he felt anger towards the boy to be so immature as to hurt someone he was suppose to cherish with all his life.

"So how was being in class with Mr. Heart breaker?" Renjun spoke after a moment of silence, averting his eyes back to you. You gasped at the nickname, "don't say it like that! You're making it seem as if he was some sort of school fuckboy." you scolded, landing a smack square on his chest.

Renjun laughed before you spoke in a quiet tone, "alot of people were talking bout us when I entered the class without screaming his name and clinging onto him like a koala," you shrugged casually. "He's probably upset even more now that people are talking bout how distant I've been towards him," you added with a heavy sigh.

Renjun patted your head softly, nodding in sympathy. "It'll all blow over soon. After all, you were always dramatic with your actions when it comes to Jaemin." he chuckled as you both entered the ice cream shop, walking up to the counter. "Shut up, Huang." you mumbled with a pout.

"Welcome to Weishen Ice Cream Shop, how may I help you two, today?" the cashier smiled as he came up to the counter, wiping his hand on a wet rag. You recognize him as Qian Kun, he would always give you free ice cream whenever you're down in the dumps.

"Hey Kun," you smiled as Renjun pulled out his wallet behind you. "Y/n, Renjun, pleasure to see you as always." Kun nodded with a charming smile as you started placing your orders, paying for your own ice cream after a brief argument bout who's paying.

"How's Jaemin? I haven't seen him around recently," Kun asked as he scoops up the ice-cream into the neon yellow cup. You tensed at the name, recalling Jaemin's words that night. You muster up a small smile, ignoring Renjun's concerned gaze as you reply.

"He's fine. Haven't seen him in a while either." you shrugged as Kun handed you your ice-cream. "Well, if you see him, tell him to come by. I missed that guy," Kun said with a soft pause in between sentences, sensing the tension in the air once he brought up the teenage boy.

"Shameless self advertising again, old man?" Renjun chuckled as he grabs a spoon off the counter. Kun blinked, pointing the metal ice cream scoop dramatically at Renjun, "Who are you calling old man? I just gave you cheap ice cream and this is how you treat me, Renjun? You should respect your elders, you brat." he jokes.

You giggled as Renjun stuck his tongue out at the older man, you pulled him away before Kun could jump over the counter and start whacking him with the ice cream scoop. "You're so immature sometimes," you laughed as you sat down on one of the booths by the windowsill.

Renjun rolled his eyes with a soft smile, shoving his ice-cream into your mouth to prevent anymore insults from spilling out of your mouth. Unbeknownst to the  two of you, Lee Donghyuck and Lee Jeno were walking side by side to go to an arcade, spotting you and Renjun from across the street through the window.

“Jeno!” Donghyuck halted his movements once his eyes adverted to your laughing figures. “What?” Jeno asked, halting beside the younger boy to turn to see where Donghyuck was pointing at. “Look! Is that who I think it is?” Hyuck exclaimed as Jeno’s eye caught you and Renjun sitting infront of each other in that old ice cream shop, watching as Renjun flicked you on the forehead with a laugh, watching a pout form oon your expression.

“Is that Renjun? And Y/n” Jeno asked, squinting his eyes to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. “It looks like they’re on some kind of date,” he added as Hyuck clicked his tongue. “I knew they were close but i didn’t think they were this close,” Hyuck gaped, watching as the two of you continued on with your conversation without a bother in the world.

“Do you think they’re-” he asked, only to be cut off. “No, that’s not possible.” Jeno spoke rather abruptly, his mind flashing back to his best friend. “The soulmate system allows you to have romantic feelings only towards the person you’re bonded with.” he added with a serious tone. Hyuck rolled his eyes at his statement.

“Then what do you call that dense best friend of yours?” he asked, raising a brow at him. “For all the years I’ve known him, he doesn’t seem to show the slightest care for the poor girl, she has the right to feel loved too, you know. Even when it’s from someone else,” Hyuck snapped. 

Hyuck cares bout you. He really does. Not because you always lend him homework answers and notes when he asked, not because of the many talks you two had whenever he had some problems with Mark, but because you were like the sister he never had. Seeing the pain in your eyes whenever Jaemin turns you down was a painful sight to see, he wants you to be happy. 

“Hyuck, Jaemin cares bout her deep down. I know he does. He’s just too stubborn to admit it. I’ve known Jaemin longer than you have, he does like her, trust me. He’s just to stupid to realize.” Jeno sighed, shaking his head profusely at the thought of his best friend. Deep down, Jeno wasn’t even sure what he said was true. He’s heard of the controversial rumour surrounding the soulmate system.

That when the system is rigged, people can have feelings for others that they can’t have.Those whose feelings are reciprocated by someone that aren’t their soulmates were just a sign of God attempting to fix the mistake. No one knows what would happen to those whose feelings aren’t reciprocated. Rumors said that there was a possibility that they vanish into thin air out of despair and heartbreak, some say they were doomed to live the rest of their life feeling loveless.

Others say they consult into more...

Terrifying inhumane methods.

Jeno shuddered at the thought, shaking his head to shake away the horrifying thoughts of what would come to Jaemin and Y/N if this keeps happening. He didn’t want to know what was going to happen if this keeps happening.

“I just hope you’re right, Jen.” 

This is NOT proofread hehe.

Tagging: @morks-watermelon @cherrystay @lowkeyviv @candiednickles @btm-taeyong @d-nghyck @gothmingguk @12am-musings @luvlyjaemin @cowward

[skywalkersthelimit]

Okay so I'm super nervous to post this but I wrote this one-shot for the #trikey fandom. Ive had this idea for awhile but I finally got around to writing it. It's based off the song Lips of an angel by Hinder. I think its perfect for Michael and Trevor lol so please let me know what you think and I hope you enjoy!

Honey, why are you calling me so late?

It’s kinda hard to talk right now 

Honey, why are you crying, is everything okay? 

I gotta whisper 'cause I can't be too loud 

Michael woke up to his phone ringing on his bedside table. He knew who it was before he even looked. He didn’t know how or why because it could have been a number of people. He reached over and grabbed the phone. His eyes squinted from the bright light. Trevor. He was both glad and disappointed he was right but he supposed he might have willed it to be. His thoughts had been filled with his crew mate, best friend and sometimes more, but that was before Amanda and the kids. Well that wasn’t entirely true. Every time they went on a job together, they fell into each other as soon as they were alone in their hotel room. Michael just couldn’t help himself. 

It had been a few months since he had seen Trevor though. He tried to put distance between them. He knew that Trevor had a hard time just sleeping together on occasions and understanding Michael had a family to go home to. Michael wanted nothing more than for his friend to be happy but he just couldn’t be the one to give it to him.

He stared as the phone rang and debated answering but he pictured Trevor’s face the last time he had seen him with tears rolling down his face, begging Michael to stay. His heart clenched and he answered.

“Hello?” he whispered. He looked over at Amanda still sleeping. He had to be quiet. He didn't want to wake her and have her find out who he was talking to. He didn’t feel like fighting tonight. 

“Hey." Trevor’s voice rang out on the other side of the phone. 

“Jesus, Trev. Do you know what time it is?” He flinched as the words left his mouth. He didn’t mean to sound upset but he did. 

Trevor laughed dryly. 

“Oh I’m sorry, Princess. Am I interrupting your beauty sleep? I thought I might call my best friend who hasn’t talked to me in months” he said coldly. 

“Trevor, if you want to talk you can call and you can call during the day.” Amanda moved next to him. He had to be quiet. 

“Works both ways. If you wanted to talk you would have called. But you didn’t.” His voice cracked and ended in a broken sob. Michael hated himself a little more. 

“T, why are you crying? Is everything okay?” he whispered. He wished he was there with Trevor right now. He would pull him into his arms and hold him until the tears stopped like he always did. 

“Speak up M. I cant hear you" 

“I have to be quiet or I’ll wake up-" he let his sentence go unfinished, trying to be careful not to set T off. 

“Ah, of course. Wouldn’t want to wake the Mrs. I’ll let you go." He could hear the anger, the jealousy, the sadness, and the pain in Trevor’s voice. 

“No!” he said rather loudly. He snapped over to look at Amanda, who just turned over on her side away from him. He sighed. “Don’t go. Just- Hang on.” He got out of bed quietly and snuck out the room. He grabbed his cigarettes off the counter and sat down on the couch, lighting one up and taking a deep inhale and exhale. He wasn't supposed to smoke in the house, but fuck it. 

Well, my girl's in the next room

Sometimes I wish she was you

I guess we never really moved on

It's really good to hear your voice saying my name

It sounds so sweet

Coming from the lips of an angel

Hearing those words - it makes me weak

And I never wanna say goodbye

But, girl, you make it hard to be faithful

With the lips of an angel

“Now tell me what’s going on, Trev. I can't be too loud. Mandy and the kids are in the other room asleep" he explained. 

“I-I don’t know. I just needed to hear your voice.” Trevor replied quietly, his voice soft and tight like he was trying to stop himself from crying. Michael wondered what had him so upset. He had heard he had a boyfriend of sorts from Lester and apparently they’ve been doing jobs together for L since Michael saw T last. When L told him, he saw red. He got wasted and wound up outside screaming and crying at the night sky. Trevor was his, but he wasn't and he never would be. He didn’t want to but he hoped Trevor was calling to tell him he left that guy and to ask when Michael was coming back to work, to him. There was also a chance Trevor was calling because he was drunk and cranked out. Either due to said guy or something else or even for the hell of it. He might be in trouble or lying somewhere drugged out.

“Is it that guy you’re with?” Michael realized how incredibly jealous he sounded but maybe he was. Maybe he missed being on the road, never staying in one place too long. Maybe he missed the thrill of the job, and maybe he missed looking over in the middle of a heist and grinning at Trevor who was grinning just as hard back. Maybe he missed pulling Trevor into a hard kiss as soon as their hotel door shut and having the most passionate nights of his life, and then falling asleep in his lover’s arms. Maybe he even missed the times they just sat on the bed and talked for hours about any and everything. Maybe sometimes he wished it was Trevor who was in the other room, waiting for him to come back to bed. 

“How-how do you even know about that?” Trevor asked, sounding surprised. 

“Lester.” 

“Of fucking course. Well not that it’s any of your business but he's asleep. It ain’t like he’s my boyfriend or anything. You know I ain’t they settling type. There’s only one exception. Fuck. I miss you, Mikey.” He sobbed. 

“Trev-" 

“It's okay. I understand. It’s just so good to hear your voice, Mikey.” There goes that nickname again. A nickname only Trevor called him. A nickname that sounded so sweet coming from Trevor’s lips. Like an angel. A fallen angel maybe. 

“It's really good to hear your voice too T. Mikey. That’s a name I haven't heard in awhile” he said fondly. 

“What, too good to be called Mikey anymore?” T said annoyed. 

“No, not at all. Although you are the only one who calls me that, but I like it.” He felt his cheeks flush and his heart flutter as he spoke. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. Now tell me what’s going on please."

“When are you gonna do a job? It’s been months. We miss you out there. I miss you. I-I need you, Mikey. Please come back to me. I can't stop thinking about you. You haunt me every waking moment, and even in my dreams. Do you dream of me?” Hearing those words made Michael feel weak. He almost told Trevor he was on his way, grabbed his car keys and left without a second thought, but he couldn’t. He wouldn’t leave his children. He might do a few jobs now and then but he wouldn’t choose that life over them. No matter how bad he craved it, craved him.

It's funny that you're calling me tonight

And, yes, I've dreamt of you too

And does he know you're talking to me?

Will it start a fight?

No, I don't think she has a clue

“Trevor, I-I want to be there. You know I do, but I got Tracey and Jimmy to think about, but I think about you too. All the time. Especially lately. It’s funny you called. And yeah, I’ve dreamt of you too T.” He didn’t know why he was being so open about this, about whatever it was between them, but hearing how broken Trevor sounded and how it matched how he felt inside, he knew they both needed to hear it. To hear that Michael cared about him, that he missed Trevor just as much as he missed him. 

“Oh yeah? What’d you dream about, cowboy?” he asked and Michael could picture his thick eyebrows wagging. He laughed, genuinely laughed. Something he hadn’t done since the last time he saw Trevor. 

“It wasn’t like that. Well not all like that.” Now it was Trevor’s turn to laugh. 

“Tell me.” He told Michael. 

“We were in a nice house, our house. We were happy.” He whispered, afraid of the way his dream made him feel. He didn’t want to dream of Trevor, of their future that would never be. He wished he could let Trevor go, but he didn’t think he ever fully would. 

“It doesn’t have to be a dream, Mikey. The kids can be in your life, our life.” Trevor pleaded. Michael had to change the subject before he agreed. 

“What about that guy you've been seeing? Does he know you’re talking to me? Won't he get mad?” 

"I told you he's not my boyfriend. I don't care if he gets mad, but no, he doesn't know I'm talking to you. He doesn't know anything about you except you're the great Michael Townley, expert thief. He actually wants to meet you." Trevor laughed dryly at that. "What about Amanda? Does she know you're talking to me? Does she know anything?" 

Does she know anything, meaning does she know when Michael goes away to work he all but forgets about her? Does she know that his nights with Trevor are filled with more passion than their whole marriage has ever seen? Does she know that Michael's heart will never fully belong to her?

"No, no I don't think she has a clue, Trev." He sighed. The guilt constantly ate at him and he tried so hard to be the husband she deserved, the father his children deserved, but he never would me. He belonged to the game, to Trevor, but it didn't matter. How he felt didn't matter, couldn't matter. He would push his feelings down to the bottom of his heart with a smile. 

"Mikey. I miss you so much. So much it hurts. I can't get you out of head, out of my heart. I've tried drugs and alcohol. I've tried fucking anyone in sight and even getting a wannabe you, but nothing works. I've tried telling myself you're better off with her, but you're not. You're miserable and so am I. Please just do the best thing for you, for us." He begged through sobs. Michael could hardly make out what he was saying.

He felt tears rolling down his face. He felt Trevor's words stab his soul. He tried to drown Trev out too. He drank so much even he was worried. He smoked several packs of cigarettes a day. He went to strip clubs almost every night and almost every time he brought one of the girls to his car or a hotel for a quick fuck. He just wanted to feel numb, to never know the pain of loving someone you could never be with. What was that saying? It's better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all. He wasn't sure if he agreed, but inevitably he did. He would feel this pain a thousand times just to know what it was like to love and be loved by this man. What it felt like to lay in his arms as he rubbed his back and kissed his head. He couldn't give that up. He wasn't ready for that. 

"I'm gonna call Lester tomorrow and get a job set up. I'll let you know where to go. Everything will be okay. I'll see you in a few days. I promise. Okay?" 

"Yeah okay, but what about-" Michael cut him off. 

"We'll talk about everything then." He knew he was lying and Trevor probably did too. They both knew he would never be able to leave his family and that pretty little white lies would have to suffice them. 

"Okay Mikey, I'll see you in a few days. And you better show up" he threatened, half jokingly. 

"I'll be there, Trev. And Trev?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Next time call me during the day" he said chuckling. 

"Yes princess. See ya soon Mikey." He said before hanging up. 

Trevor just makes it too hard to be faithful and Michael was weak. 

[doyelikehaggis]

ALL OF THE WIP TITLES YOU POSTED LOOK. SO. GOOD. i'm going to limit myself to three - can i ask for three at once? is that chill? okay well i'm gonna ask anyway and you can choose one/two/all three! so here we go: "High School Musical: The Reunion: Glee Edition", "Prison World Trio", and "Shorpanga Wedding." <3 <3 <3

YOU'RE ALWAYS COMING IN HERE AND MAKING ME LOVE YOU. Of course you can ask for three, I'd have done the whole list just for you ♥️ zhhxhshz okay let's do this!! I'm gonna put a read more because it is Long

"High School Musical: The Reunion: Glee Edition"

It's occuring to me now just how misleading this title is even though it makes perfect sense to me 😭. So, this fic is actually a crossover between The Flash, Supergirl, and Glee! Basically, there's a reunion happening at McKinley and invites go out to both Barry and Kara as, in this universe, they were Sebastian and Marley (with a couple of tweaks). None of their friends are aware of their secret former lives as members of semi-successful high school glee clubs (Iris and Alex are the only ones because, well, they grew up with them)!

And to make it better: Barry and Kara didn't recognize each other either! So, you can imagine their great surprise when they both find out their high schools are hosting reunions on the same day. In the same town. In the same building. Drama ensues! They have some reunions with other ex glee club members, including one Music Meister (excluding one he-who-will-not-be-named for multiple reasons but one being that he was also in Supergirl and I'm not going out of my way to find a loophole in the plot that makes sense for him). Their friends find out! Songs are probably sung!

And here is your snippet:

He can't go. Barry decides it without even opening the email. Or the three Facebook messages, or the two voicemails, or the five texts. They're all from the same person, more or less. One of the messages is from Trent, and he feels a bit worse about ignoring that one than the rest, but he can't because the second he opens a single one of them, it's over.

The date for the reunion is in a week and he's managed perfectly to ignore it so far! If he just waits until the date passes, then he can reply to Trent and to Blaine with profuse apologizes, but he was busy, and he never got around to checking any of his emails or texts, but he really is so sorry to have missed it, maybe they can meet up just the three of them sometime soon? 

A deep sigh is pulled from between his ribs. He slumps back in his chair and closes his eyes, letting himself spin slowly.

"You should go," Iris insists. Barry opens his eyes and catches a glimpse of her across the room, leaning against his desk. Possibly accidentally touching evidence. Totally fine, not a problem at all. "Seriously, it's been ten years! I know that it's not Dalton and technically McKinley wasn't your school, but everyone you went to Dalton with will be there."

"That's the problem," Barry emphasizes, his hands dragging through his hair to grab the top of the chair. "I just... the thought of facing any of them now? After everything, after ten years?"

He just shakes his head, pressing his lips together. His stomach is rocking and he's aware that the spinning probably isn't helping, but he's also afraid that if he stops he might throw up. So he pushes himself with his foot and goes around again, only catching a blur of Iris' exasperated expression. 

"Things are different now!" she tries again. "You've seen Blaine and Trent! Look how much they've changed. Who's to say that it's not the same for everyone else? I mean, you're certainly not who you were when you went there -- you're not him anymore; Sebastian."

"Prison World Trio"

This is, unsurprisingly, a TVD fic. I decided, you know the only thing that could make Bonnie and Damon being trapped in the Prison World more interesting than it already is? If Enzo was there, too. So, essentially, he waits on the other side until Damon arrives because he's actually worried about him, but by the time Alaric has been sent through to the land of the living, the spell has been broken, leaving Damon and Enzo trapped along with Bonnie. Then bam! Prison World! Now, I don't have a clear idea of where I go from there, but I know that it involves domestic shenanigans, catching feelings + old feelings resurfacing with angst and arguments and Bonnie wanting to murder both of them! They will, of course, still meet Kai and that's a whole thing because it's Kai, but I still haven't decided an ending yet.

Stop! Snippet time!:

"Take him," Bonnie says to Damon. "Please. He's your murder buddy, not mine."

"Hold on, I still have a say in this," Enzo tries to protest. "And for the record, I am no one's murder buddy anymore. I wouldn't be here if I was, now would I?"

Damon groans, "Oh my god, let it go, we're stuck with each other now, alright? So, your little grudge isn't exactly going to do anyone any good, and if you haven't noticed, you're not exactly dead anymore, so would you shut up?"

"Oh, well I'm glad to know that my death is a mere grudge to you," Enzo quips back drily, throwing a hand up. "You sure you want me to come with you at all? By the sounds of it, you wouldn't even notice if I was gone, so how about you two go ahead and I'll just be on my merry way."

Unbelievable. Trust Enzo to kick up a tantrum at the most inconvenient of times. Damon looks to Bonnie to share in his exasperation, but she raises her eyebrows and presses her lips together in a clear display of not taking sides. Though her pointed silence and looking away feels a whole lot like tiptoeing onto a side. 

"Are you -- No!" Damon waves his hands. "How is splitting up going to help us? No, either you come with me, or you go with Bonnie. Your choice, but those are your only two options."

"I'm not exactly seeing how you're going to enforce that if I decide on neither," Enzo says with a shrug, and at this point, Damon's thinking he's just doing it to piss him off. Then again, that's usually his motivation. 

"I'll just..." Bonnie gives a vague motion behind ahead of her with an awkward smile and proceeds to try and edge away, "leave you two to it," 

"Wait," Enzo calls to her, staring at Damon, "I'm coming with you."

Damon stares back at him, arms spread. But Enzo just gives him one last look before walking away. Bonnie falters uncertainly and doesn't look too thrilled about this decision either but she just shrugs at Damon like she's sorry, then she goes after Enzo. Leaving Damon standing in the middle of the road on his own. 

Fantastic. Just the way he likes it.

"Shorpanga Wedding"

Title says it all, really, I think. We're at Cory and Topanga's wedding (this is Boy Meets World if that wasn't clear), and Shawn is obviously a mess because the two people he is in love with are getting married, but they don't know he's in love with them, and now his chance to say anything is about to be gone! I'm going to need to rewatch that episode before I can get back to this one because I can't remember a lot of what was said, but I know it's going to be extremely angsty with a happy ending!

Teeny tiny snippet:

Don’t go in. Shawn repeats the words over and over in his head, pacing the hall of the fanciest hotel he’s ever stepped foot in. But he came this far, didn’t he? He can’t let how he’s feeling get in the way of this. It’s Cory’s wedding. And… Topanga’s. His best friends. How can he not go in?

He stops pacing and looks down at the rings in the palm of his hand. If he goes in there, these rings will be on Cory’s and Topanga’s fingers for the rest of their lives. 

Groaning, he clenches his hand into a fist, feeling the rings dig into his palm. He starts pacing again until singing starts up around the corner. Oh god. What does singing mean at a wedding? That it’s over? 

But it can’t be, not without the rings, right? Or did they find replacements? Did they just assume that he would let them down, that he wouldn't show up, so they just went ahead without him?

There’s only one way to find out. 

Taking a deep breath, he turns the corner and walks through the hall. His heart leaps into his throat at the sight of the wedding taking place. Cory and Topanga at the altar together. Nausea sweeps over him, but he bites the inside of his cheek and ignores how disconnected his head feels from the rest of his body as he marches up the aisle towards them. He glances at the stage and notices Mrs Matthews on it, the source of the singing. Figures. 

Every step forward feels heavier than the last, and like he’s a roadrunner heading straight for the exact spot where the anvil is hanging, waiting to drop and crush him. Except seeing Cory and Topanga standing there, ready to get married, has already done that. 

This took me so long to answer but it has been so fun!! Thank you for asking for three at once, you're amazing and wonderful!

[thadelightfulone]

Keep Me In Mind

Part Two of my submission for the Quarantine Writing Challenge hosted by @shaekingshitup​ and @chaneajoyyy​. [PART ONE]

Took this as an opportunity to write for someone new...ENJOY!

Pairing: Thick Black!OC - Lexi Washington and Rome Flynn

“One night, Rome! That is all I asked for. Was that too much? I just don’t understand how he could do this to me again.” She cries into the phone.

“Hey, hey, hey.” She quiets down, “Just breathe,” and he can hear her inhaling deeply on the line, “Where are you now?”

Lexi called Rome crying about Drew again. Last night, he once again ruined her plans for the evening. Drew knew she wanted a night to herself, and she even told him to go out with his boys. All she wanted was a few hours to relax and unwind from the bullshit week she had. And he couldn’t even do that. Drew was there when she got home, yelling, screaming, and acting a fool with the guys online instead. Rome knew this already because he was online with them.

Rome waits a few moments, then repeats his question. Lexi takes her time answering him as usual, knowing that she is going to tell him so he can pick her up. This has become a routine for them. She calls him complaining about her boyfriend, he listens and then offers to take her out to get her mind off things. It shouldn’t even be a part of their relationship, but it is; this is what they have become.

“At the house.” She steps out of the kitchen into the doorway to grab her coat and purse, “I’ll be on the steps.” Opening the door to go out, she slows once he speaks.  

“Nah, stay inside. I’ll let you know when I’m there.” Lexi closes the door, turning on her heel and heading past the kitchen.

Lexi walks to the office and sits down at the desk, “Ok, text me, so you don’t have to come inside.”

“Lex, relax.” He jumps in his car, starting it up. “I got you. You just choose where you want to go, ok. That’s all I want you to worry about.”

“Yeah, ok. I’ll see you when you get here.” They end the call, and Lexi looks at the picture frame on her left. It is a photo of Drew and her in better times, enjoying the natural beauty at her favorite park. Before things became so strained that they could barely talk to one another without it turning into an argument - he makes a demand of her, and she wants him to ask respectfully. She makes a simple request, and he fights her tooth and nail just to avoid doing it.

Lexi closes her eyes, she is so sick of the fighting and his treatment of her and their relationship, but she doesn’t want to leave. She loves him, and she believes somewhere deep down, he loves her, too. She has no idea how they got to this point, but she has hope it’ll get better.  

Folding her arms on top of the desk, Lexi puts her head down and nods off. Only waking when she hears voices coming down the hall towards the office. She sits up and tries to wipe her face of any sleep real quick. A short knock precedes the door opening, and she sees Rome walk in with Drew behind him. He stays at the door.

“Yo man, the next tournament is in a week. You playing with us, right?” Drew asks, clapping him on the back.

Shrugging him off, “Of course, you know you need me.” Rome looks over at Lexi, who is fluffing her hair and rubbing her eyes before standing up, “Ready to go?”

“Yup,” she walks over to Drew and kisses him on the cheek. “I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah, sure.” He steps back into the main hall, then turns around, walking backward as he faces them both, “Oh, and can you bring me back some chips and ice cream? I finished both earlier.”

“Really, Drew? You were just out, why didn’t you get some?”

“It’s not my job to make sure the pantry stays full.” Rome shakes his head while Drew smiles at her, “Besides, I didn’t say anything about you finishing off the rest of the Crown last night.” Turning back around, he makes a left down the hall. Lexi groans.

“Come on, let’s go,” Rome interjects before Lexi can follow after him just to say something back. He has been here when one of their arguments started, and he does not feel like playing referee today. Grabbing her shoulders, he leads her away in the opposite direction towards the front of the house.

Walking to his car, Rome opens the door and lets her get settled as he makes his way around to the driver’s side. He watches as Lexi leans back in the seat, closing her eyes and rubbing her temples. They both sit there quietly. Rome’s eyes on Lexi taking in the view from the bottom up. Lexi is wearing classic white slip-on Vans with some dark denim jeans and a pink and purple ombre peasant top. Her burgundy and dark brown natural curls twisted out, framing her face. Rome smiles while staring at her when she removes her hands from her face.

“Can I get my face back?” Big black eyes behind rose gold-rimmed glasses along with the deepest dimples he has ever seen laugh at him. Her laughter causes her cute chubby cheeks to rise and her eyes to flutter. "I hate when you do that, you know?" She pushes at his arm.

Shrugging the push-off, Rome looks over at Lexi, "Do what?" Starting the ignition to warm the car up, he sits back in his seat, waiting for her answer.

"That!" Lexi points at his face, "That right there." She grabs her phone and tries to snap a picture of him. Rome turns away before the flash, and she catches a perfect profile shot of him. He is looking out the front of the car, his 5 o'clock shadow appearing between his mustache and attempt at a beard. Spotting a new short cut, she can see the waves coming in. And she knows he is smiling at her even while he faces forward. The beautiful bastard. She saves the picture and puts her phone away.

"So, you don't want me looking at you?" Quickly turning her way, he sees her slowly nod at him before nervously biting her lip. Putting the car in gear, he begins to laugh, "Not gonna happen." They pull off, and Rome grabs her left hand with his right, squeezing it before settling it on his thigh.

Lexi looks down at their hands intertwined; it's not a new sight because they do it all the time. But for some reason, today, it just feels different and not necessarily in a bad way. "Where are we going?"

Focusing on the road, "Have you eaten today?" Rome inquires. Lexi rolls her eyes, focus outside of the window while mumbling the answer. "Lex?"

"No," she huffs out.

"When was the last time you ate?" He stops at a red light to look at her fidgeting in the passenger seat.

Groaning, she finally looks back at him. "Not since lunch yesterday." He squeezes her hand on his lap. "I did- I did have food to eat last night, Rome, but I was so pissed off about Drew being home and fucking up my evening-" she sighs, "I couldn't bring myself to eat it. So, I let him have it."

"And drowned your sadness in that bottle of Crown I left at the house?" She nods her head in response, "You don't even drink whiskey." He proclaims.

"I know.” She whines, “Why do you think you didn't hear from me until this afternoon?" Lexi rolls her eyes, "On the plus side, I did get to soak in my bathtub and woke up there, too." She starts laughing, and Rome can't help but join her.

"What am I going to do with you, Lex?" What am I going to do about you? He thinks to himself.

The light turns green, and Rome takes off. The car is quiet again except for the radio in the background. Everything I Miss At Home by Cherrelle is playing softly. Rome peeks over at Lexi, who is quietly singing the song. Loud enough that she didn't think he would hear her.

Rome pulls up in front of a restaurant. He parks the car and gets out to catch the passenger door before Lexi does. He didn't need to rush because she is dumbfounded, looking up at the familiar place.

Hearing her door open, Lexi looks up at Rome. "How did you know?"

"Know what?" he replies, helping her out of the car and closing the door behind her.

"Italian, Rome?" He is still confused by her comment as they enter the restaurant. They are greeted by the owner, who remembers Lexi from the previous evening and shakes her hand, welcoming her back. Rome looks at her as she nervously says hello to the man. "This is my favorite Italian restaurant.

"Ahhhh, so your dinner last night was from here?" She mouths yup as the owner leads them to a table. Rome follows behind Lexi, eyes roaming her body and especially those thick hips swaying in her jeans. He inwardly groans as she slides into the booth.

"Well, I knew you loved Italian. I just didn't know you knew about this place." He finally replies while sitting down.

"Yeah, I love this place. It's actually where Drew and I first met." Lexi ends that statement, gently realizing how awkward this must be. "I'm sorry."

Rome taps the table before looking up at her, "No need to apologize for that."

"But I mean, he's -" Lexi stops speaking as Rome shakes his head.

 "I know who he is." He cuts her off, "And I know who you are. There's no need to say any more than that." Rome picks up the menu, sighing behind it.

He didn't mean to act like that towards her, but he didn't want to talk about Drew. He didn't want to talk about anything that reminded him that Lexi does not belong to him even if that is part of a long-overdue conversation between the two.

Putting the menu back down, "I should be the one apologizing to you." Lexi looks up from her menu, confused. "Why don't we get something in your stomach first, and then we'll talk?" Like it was planned, Lexi's stomach answers for her, and they both laugh, erasing the quickly rising tension at the table.

Lexi orders her favorite dish from the night before, Stuffed Chicken Marsala, and decides to get it over mashed potatoes tonight. Rome orders Chicken Florentine over Angel Hair pasta. They both order different flavored Italian sodas and Minestrone to start.

Their food arrives, and they eat in comfortable silence. Lexi sneaking peeks at Rome since she can’t figure out what he wants to talk about with her. They have always been able to talk with one another about everything, so this doesn’t make any sense. He looked so serious when he brought it up, too. He cut her off when speaking, and he has never done that before. If she is honest with herself, Rome has always been there for her in ways that Drew never has. Finished with her food, she drops her fork on the plate and openly scrutinizes Rome, hoping he will look up from his plate so they can start this conversation.

Rome senses Lexi’s eyes on him and pays so much attention to his food that he scrapes the plate while cutting his chicken. He completes the task at hand and puts the knife down. It feels like he is under a microscope, and Rome doesn’t understand where this nervous energy around Lexi is coming from. He has always been her sounding board and a voice of reason for when she wants to just talk in a judgment-free zone. And she has been that for him on occasion as well, so what changed?

His phone vibrates against the table, and he looks down at it. Drew. The unspoken matter between them. Why is he calling him now? “It’s your man.” He tells Lexi.

“He’s your best friend,” she declares. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom while you two talk or whatever.” She sets her napkin beside her plate and gets up from the booth.

Rome watches her before picking up the phone. “Yeah, what’s up?”

“When are you guys coming back? I want my ice cream.” Drew complains into the phone.

“Are you serious? As long as we have been gone, you could have went and got some.” Rome states matter-of-factly.

“I know, I know. But I asked her to get it for me. So, I expect her to do that.” Rome pulls the cell away from his ear to look down at it. This cannot be the same dude he grew up with acting like this. “Can you make sure you stop before bringing her home?”

“Yeah. Bye.” Rome ends the call, not wanting to entertain him anymore. The waitress appears as Lexi makes her way back to the table.

“Would you like anything else?” She asks them. Rome nods at Lexi, who shakes her head.

“No, that’ll be all. Thanks.” The waitress drops off the check and collects their plates before leaving them alone.

“What did your bestie want?” Lexi smirks at him.

“Stop that mess.” Rome waves her off as he takes cash out of his wallet to pay for their meal. “He wanted to know when his ice cream would be making it home.”

“The ice cream? But not me?” Lexi questions.

“I was kindly asked to make sure we stop before bringing you home.” Rome stands and takes Lexi’s hand, helping her up.

“Wow, ok.” They wave goodbye to the owner and waitress on their way out. “You are just taking me straight home, right?” She asks as they get into the car.

“Is that what you want?” Lexi shrugs as Rome goes on, “Is it worth the argument?” He starts the car, heading back towards their house.

“No, but I am over whatever game he is playing.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “I just want to be respected and treated as an equal. Something he stopped seeing me as a long time ago.” She grabs his left hand, linking their fingers before settling them in her lap, “Why can’t he be more like you?” Under her breath, why can’t he be you?

Rome is quiet until George Duke’s No Rhyme, No Reason plays on the radio. He starts singing along, knowing exactly how the man feels except he isn’t married, but he definitely finds himself wanting the woman next to him. Lexi smiles in the dark while listening to him sing.

The car stops in front of the house, and Lexi mentally prepares herself to deal with whatever mess Drew is about to start. Rome comes around to her side as she gets out. He grabs her hand in his as they walk up to the front door. Turning her around before she goes inside, he sees the tears start to run down her face. Rome leans over and kisses Lexi’s cheek, “Just keep me in mind.”

[dxmagedrose]

@ninetyscnds​ answered:

It wasn’t the first time they were here. Over the last few months (had it already been a year, maybe? Luke hadn’t the faintest idea), they had tried and tried and tried getting out of the long, white-hot claws of Aunt Hazel and her destructive ways. They had tried on their own, tried in different areas, hell half a day at a shelter once but that went to shit so fast Luke wouldn’t even call that an honest attempt. Now, they’re on their way out of the city, she’s doing fairly well all things considered, he’s a shivering mess with his eye sockets so deep and black you’d think he lost his actual eyeballs and there was nothing but the view directly into his cranium left.

Only, his eyes, usually such a comforting late-night blue, were paling by the second. Maybe it was the ghost of Aunt Hazel, pulling at his limbs, because he could feel his soul being dragged behind the car and all he wanted was to let go.

Out there was scary. Out in fucking nowhere, in nature, in the woods, IN THE HILLS. He knew the streets. Knew roads and dumpsters and shelters and which bridges were good to sleep under. He knew jack shit about fucking forests and woods and tranquil rivers.

I need you better.

“…what if it just gets worse,” he grumbles. He sounds bitter. He’s kicking idly with his foot against the mat his feet are on, long legs stretched out in the small car as far as he can go. He sniffles, and rubs his nose, scratches his throat, his jaw, his neck. A small wound rips open under his blunt nails.

“Wh– I– I just don’t see why we have to go out in– in the middle of a fucking forest, Rosa- I– How are we– we even gonna get food or– or what if one of us ends up in a seizure and-, th-there’s no fucking hospital way out there and you c-can be sure as shit that they’re not gonna send a chopper out to get two j-j-junkies in a-a-, a fucking cabin.”

God, he wanted out so badly. God, how he just wanted to get better one last time in the park by the library, and THEN get into some treatment center. God, how he didn’t want to be out in a fucking scary forest with bears and wolves and mountain monsters and men. But she felt this was the right place, the right way, and they had to try - they just had to! So he bit his lips bloody and watched in the rear-view mirror as he saw the city roll down the horizon, long, clawed hands grabbing out after him every time a street-lamp vanished behind them in the distance.

She reaches over, interlaces her fingers with his and gives them a tight squeeze, perfectly manicured nails and bitten raw fingertips interlocking together reassuringly.

“Luke, I need you HERE. ” She says, and she means it. Not exactly here, here. It’s not the most ideal place, she knows that, and she’s not gonna argue with it. But she needs him, needs him present, in the moment.       “ I need you here; right here, with me. ”

She squeezes his fingers again, grip so tense her fingers turn white.

“Nothing’s going to happen, okay? E S P E C I A L L Y  since neither of us have any on us, and we’re NOT going to be sneaking around behind the others back with the goods and not tell each other,  r i g h t ? ”

---- But he doesn’t look so sure. She purses her lips, shooting him a concerned look. It should go without saying, but she can't help herself, she wants it just as bad as he does, and she's afraid that clawing feeling of desperation is NEVER going to leave her.  " B a b y ,  I'm— I'm not gonna be mad if you did bring any, if you have any on you, but I am gonna be pissed off if you don't tell me you've got any, okay? "

Maybe it was a stupid idea. Maybe it was poorly planned and conceived. But she had to try. There had been way, way too many close fucking calls in motel rooms, swapping needles that had been god knows where because there was nothing left to consider when the high was that fucking close. How many hospitals had she clawed the IVs out of her arms in at this point? How many times did she find herself at her lowest of lows, on her knees for hours for the tiniest of grams, or jerking off cops just to get out of getting charged? It was  h o p e l e s s  no matter where they went. Like their own personal ghost, it followed them everywhere, ruining everything they touched, seeping into their skin and ripping away what little they even had left after everything they'd done. She wants it so fucking much, wants to stay in that bubble, in that place, and never have to come down again... but looking at  L U K E , the way it's affected him, that’s nowhere near the YEARNING for him to pull through this. For both of them to.

“ Luke...  Hey, come on. I grew up around here. Before my home was the city streets, it was... a lot of hiking trails and campfires." She certainly doesn't look the part, but it's the truth. She just wonders if he even believes anything she says anymore.    " Colorado is nothing but mountaineers. If there’s an emergency, they know damn well how to handle it, okay? I promise. Luke, I wouldn't let   a n y t h i n g   happen to you. You know that. ”

At least, she prays to the gods that still tolerate her existence that he does, pulling their hands up to her lips and placing a soft, loving kiss to back of his, thumb gently rubbing against his knuckles. She means it probably more than she should; Rosa was as dangerously loyal as they came. If she had to choose between saving a crowd of innocent strangers, or just her grumpy Luke pouting in the passenger seat of the crappy little commuter, she would choose to save  H I M  every time, no matter who stood opposite him. Sometimes the thought scared her; she doesn't know that there was anything she   w o u l d n ' t   do for the people she loved. LUKE INCLUDED.

" Hey, we'll be okay...  as long as we're  t o g e t h e r , right? "  She asks, but she doesn't sound so sure anymore, either, the worry starting to set in. The fresh air still made her sick to her stomach, forever caught in memories of a perfect home that no longer existed, but it's one of the few places she remembers ever feeling any kind of clarity in, the kind of place with answers to questions she didn't know she had.

                                                                           “ IT’S  O K A Y . ”