#it has been 12 years since they were first introduced to the world and they remain iconic

[aleksanderscult]

The way Alina's light blends with Aleksander's darkness, the way he looks at her and the way they hold hands.

They were destined to meet and fall in love with each other and the antis can scream whatever they want.

Bardugo, fuck this ship up through your annotations and you'll see me in your walls. 🙂

[inupibaldspot]

Even 12 years laters,your soul was in a color of kindness.

Pairing : Gojo Satoru x Reader

Note ₊˚⊹♡ : purely self indulgent which I wrote when I was drunk so— some stuffs are funky

Gojo first met you when you where four.

He was five years old at that time too and was being escorted by a maid to go to the clan head meeting; he assumes you were also part of a clan brought by elders.

Normally, the white haired boy never really cared for other people. Why should he? He is the chosen one. He has the limitless technique plus the six eyes of the Gojo clan. He was the closest thing to God at this age. But today it was different.

He watched you turn your head around and stare at him, he could vividly remember the way your eyes shone with amazement either for something as superficial like his white hair or the fact he was recognized as The ‘Gojo Satoru.’

But after that amazement, you smiled. You smiled at him so bright, with the evening glow of sunlights made you so—so ethereal. Your smile was childish and that’s why it was simply pure; the white haired kid’s eyes silhouetted with the sunlight shone with surprise for he found you beautiful in ways he couldn’t describe.

Gojo looks away— he beat himself for looking away as that made him look standoffish. When he looks back, you were staring at him confused for why he didn’t greet you back.

The maid beside you turns and says something, as you nod and then walk away. Was it weird for Gojo to wish you would simply turn to him and introduce yourself? For years to come, he prayed that he’d love to hear your name; for your soul was in a color of kindness.

That chance came in twelve years later when he was a second year of his Jujutsu Tech. Him and his friends, Geto and Shoko wanted to meet the new first years. There is Nanami Kento, had a huge stick up his ass but that it self made him to be forever victim to Gojo’s pranks. Next was Haibara Yū, a bright eyed kid but Gojo found him to be a bit too— energetic for his taste.

And then you. I didn’t really need to describe Nanami and Haibara first because the first and only person he saw ever since he entered the first year’s classroom was you. Simply you. You sitting on the chair smiling bashfully at them. At him.

Ever since, every day. Without fail would rush to your side. At first you were confused as that is not the Gojo you remembered l; the one you saw and described to you by others were not this.

Nevertheless it warmed you up like a cool evening sun.

Gojo released quite early was you were kind, the type that would help others despite of her time , the type who would help every elderly by the street, the type who would feed strays and yada-yada-flowers and rainbows.

But that led to another realization. Had you truly different been treated differently?

Gojo's body tensed up. Any comfortable vibe he had felt before vanishing in an instant. He had known very well that you were a kind-hearted human being. Welcoming and warm. That made you so interesting. Your soul was so calm and simple and nice.

And even though he had observed you so closely before he wasn't able to recall any moment anymore where your own feelings had been obvious. You didn't stutter around boys.

You didn't blush. You didn't hesitate in a way which could be trailed back to her personal feelings.

Were you treating him like everyone else after all?

“Gojo?”

Your voice brought him back to sense, you were blinking curious, leaned close—so close.”what’s wrong?”

“Bring out your hand.” He smiles, as you did without question. “Guess the word I’m writing on your hand.” He smiles when the warmth from your hand soothe his nervous heartbeat.

“Eh—I’m not good at kanji!”

“That’s just too bad—!”

From then when ever Gojo feels anxious of everything—everything in this world he would play this game, with your fingers and her palm because his focus on you was more gravitating rather than that as you were simply too calming.

Geto felt slightly hesitant when he saw the type of Gojo he would become when he was by your side, he was a tad abit careless as if all of his six eyes were simply focused on you, he would be a tad bit kinder to the point Nanami gets the ick.

Where as Shoko had a blast!

She would make way towards you, give kisses on your cheeks gushing on how cute you were, wrapping her arms around you as she then sends a condescending look towards Gojo who was literally drowning in jealousy.

Shoko and you got close early on and more so because you two were the only two girls in those years. To the point where even a shy person like you was influenced to sneaking into a party with Shoko.

“Please don’t mess with my hair curler, Gojo.” You say as you look into the mirror, fixing your earring and from the corner of your eyes you could see Gojo holding up a lick of his hair into the hot iron.

Gojo peers over and immediately regrets it, you were in a short dress and high heel, hair curled so—cutely and boy, your face.

He looks away.

No, too cute.

He thought as he lets down the curling iron. Shoko peers out as she lets out a puff of smoke before passing it to Geto, who takes the cigarette in his hands. “Don’t tell me you want to come Gojo.” Shoko says. “I want a girls night.”

Gojo remember almost comically crying into his pillows as Geto nags him on ‘how woman don’t like clingy guys.’ He decides to forget Shoko and join you guys anyways.

He remembers being strangled by Shoko while you him a nervous smile trying to diffuse the situation.

Your nervous smile which made the world freeze to him, Geto sighs at the love sick look his white haired friend was giving you, who seemed so obvious to.

But don’t you remember when I said you were kind. You were kind like to help the cornered kid, the type who would volunteer to be with the loner kid, the type that picked Geto Suguru’s side.

Gojo sighs when when remembers Shoko saying you said something along the lines of ‘I don’t want Geto to be lonely along the path he takes…’

How stupid!

Gojo Satoru where ever he went would go around town mentally keeping sense of any cursed energy which could relay you back to him.

He meets you again though.

12 years later, while him and now—principle Yaga were walking along the hallways they sense a breach in security. He rushes over to first, see his once best-friend Geto Suguru by his current first year Okkotsu Yuta and secondly, you. Your eyes we’re nervously flying around before it lands on him and once again he was yours; Geto scoffs at the sight of Gojo’s expression when he was looking at you. He was almost worried that if you said ‘let’s join Geto’ with a plea—se, he just might. You just had that effect on Gojo.

But too bad, Geto was here to request war upon the Jujutsu Tech. On the 24 December, Night Parade of a Hundred Demons.

Gojo rushes through curses as he makes his way towards you; and when he does, he feels as if he can’t breath. “Can you come back…?” He takes a step closer.

You smile nervously,shaking your head as you watch him take another step closer to you, you felt his hands reach out and cup your face. His face was so close to yours, you could feel the warmth radiate off him in the cold winter air. “Don’t kill me for doing this.” You we’re reminded that you guys were enemies and in a battlefield.

His face was closer now, his blue—beautiful blue eyes were slightly closed. You breath out. “I can’t kill you through your ‘Limitless’ Satoru…”

“Say it again.”

“Huh…?”

“My name. Satoru…”

You breath out. “Satoru…” The name you accidentally let out, felt so right.

“Fuck… say it a million time more, love.” Gojo laughs, slightly hoarse. “My limitless is never activated when I’m with you…”

before you realize his lips were on yours. The kiss was soft, as you hands were tentatively placed on his chest, as his hand trails along to your waist you parts your lips for him, sighs in his mouth, and that small sound of pleasure drives him crazy, floods his body with heat and desire so intense the strongest sorcerer can hardly stand.

Your are pulled away from him, when a darker and tall man goes by. “Miguel!” Gojo listened to you say.

“I need you to focus.” The man says smiling, before he takes a stance to fight Gojo. And to Miguel credit, he does fend off Gojo well, so— well that he was ‘recruited’ by him.

The day ends with Gojo losing two of his best friends in different ways. Geto would be gone, into the afterlife ended by his own hands.

But you?

Where were you? Would he meet you again 12 years later? Love?

[pinkydevil16]

Dark!Coriolanus Snow x Reader: gilded cage

18+ smut, possessiveness, toxic af, 

Snow was a manipulative bastard and yet he was so charming that now he sat in front of the capitol as President, something which terrified Y/n to her core as he held out his hand towards her. Much like her husband she wore all white, a beautifully crafted white dress with roses embellished all over the skirt identical to the one Coriolanus wore on his breast pocket. Stepping forward Y/n placed her bejewelled hand in his, their wedding bands touching as he wove his fingers between hers and stood. Kissing her hand as she bowed to her husband, the President of the capitol and all the districts, an honour bestowed upon him yet Y/n had no doubt this would happen some day, just not so quickly. Coriolanus turned to the audience, pulling Y/n close as he placed a kiss on her forehead, hearing the crowd cheer for their President and his Victor from district 12. His first victor, his first love and his little pet. 

Y/n could feel his hand on her back as many of the Capitols elite and powerful congratulated him, each one grinning ear to ear as he thanked them, tapping his fingers to signal Y/n to talk. Her hand coming out to introduce herself and thank them for voting for her husband, although she was sure it had been rigged in his favour. He was fond of cheating, he cheated so she could win her games a few years ago, cheated the system to keep her in the capitol and most certainly cheated to become President. Although she wasn't permitted to call it cheating when they argued about his manipulative nature, no that word made him angry and he'd shout that he only did what was necessary. That she'd be dead without him, some nobody from district 12 that even her parents would forget to mourn, at first his words had stung, had given him a chance to comfort her and apologise. Hold her in his hands whilst she cried that the world wasn't fair, let him whisper sweet things of how he was only saving her but over time his sweet words hurt more than the insults, they cut deeper. Reminded her how she'd been caught by the snake, locked away from her family and treated as though she was lucky for being slowly destroyed by Snow. 

"It is so wonderful to see the Capitol's darling doing so well, President Snow you did a beautiful job with this one." Y/n could feel her eye twitch, the comment angering her, they all spoke about her like she was an animal he'd tamed and made perform. Not that they were wrong, unfortunately she was an animal to them, a dirty, pitiful nobody who Snow had dusted off, put in pretty dresses and showed off to the rich. A doll dressed up for the masses, just like the victors after her, although she was in a gilded cage, locked away from all but her husband, they were in a similar condition. The victors village, another genius idea from her husband, so the Capitol could visit them, see how they coped after the games. See them reunite with their families and congratulate themselves on allowing those outside the capital to thrive under their watch. It disgusted Y/n, another element of control that Coriolanus enjoyed exploiting, it had only been 5 years since her games yet so much had changed. The arena was harsher, more cameras, more blood shed and now the reason to win, protect your family and give them everything they could ever want. Not like in her games or those before where you were sent back to your district to starve, to work yourself to the bone whilst the blood stained your hands. 

"I am so proud to be apart of the Capitol, it has been an honour to marry Coriolanus, i fell for him the moment i saw him as i stepped off that train. He was the first gentleman i'd ever truly met, he gave me the most beautiful rose and since then he had my heart." Y/n repeated the same story she'd told for the past 4 years, almost like a robot as the words came out, her cheeks hurting as she smiled and looked at Snow. His blue eyes staring down at her as he gave her an approving smile, loving how she followed the script he had for her, not allowing her to speak freely. He called her his dove but she felt like a mockingjay, repeating his words over and over. That word was also a big no, he despised the birds, claimed they were failures of the Capitol and she should never compare herself to such a disaster. 

"You have been married for almost 4 years now, shall we start preparing for babies soon?" One of his Academy 'friends' joked, whilst Y/n's blood ran cold she could almost feel the burning desire in Coriolanus as he laughed and joked back something Y/n couldn't hear over the pounding of her heart. She knew he wanted children, he'd always wanted to be President more and she'd played that against him, reminded him that he had to think of his career. Placated him as he stood in the mirror, her perfectly manicured hands wrapped around his middle as she pressed against his back. Goating his ego, he had work to do, he was going to be President and become the most powerful man in Panem, President Snow. He loved to hear those words come from her mouth, it stroked his ego to no end and would distract him from his desire to have her round his baby. Instead he would demand she bend the knee to her President, would exert as much power as he could over her, make her thank him for everything she had and everything she would ever be given, all thanks to him. But it was better than carrying his child, nurturing his child and watching that child grow up to be him. It didn't matter what influence she could have on the child, she could spend hours upon hours teaching them morals, teaching them to be good, she knew they'd be like him. Tigris had once told her of how Coryo was good, was misunderstood and told her tales of their childhood that made Y/n almost feel pity for Snow, almost. But each story still lead to where he was now, a possessive, controlling and paranoid man. 

In the first year of being victor she'd been so jumpy, hearing things, thinking she was being followed, driving herself into madness with fear. She'd had countless accidents with hurting people from being spooked, and thought she'd never recover from the games, that it was just in her head and she was losing it. Until he'd finally talked to her, confessed his feelings and told her he knew she felt the same, that he'd been there the whole time. That he'd been protecting her, had seen how she'd not been able to cope without him and suddenly all her fears rolled into own person, Coriolanus Snow who had been orchestrating her downfall since she left the arena. Suddenly her Mother and younger brother were being put in the new 'Victor Village' unveiled before the 11th hunger games, with Y/n and her family waving happily to the districts and a speech of how wonderful life was to be a victor. 

"You did so well my dove." Y/n looked up at Coriolanus as he placed a soft kiss on her forehead, his hands barely touching her arms as he did. Pulling away he smiled down at her before lightly grasping her chin, pulling her into a searing kiss which she reciprocated after a small, sharp grip to her arms. Coriolanus pulled back, grinning as he stepped away and turned to begin removing his suit jacket, hanging it carefully to stop it creasing.

"Can i see my family, please Coryo. It has been almost a year since i last saw my mother." Y/n could feel her voice getting weaker as she spoke, seeing him slouch slightly as he let out a sigh making her wring her hands in front of her before he abruptly turned. Y/n looked down at her hands as he approached, aware of his body towering over her, almost like she was a small child asking a parent for something. 

"Do you think you deserve such a reward? My sweet dove." Y/n let go of her hands and placed them behind her back, forcing herself to look up at him as he stood with his arms crossed. This was a test, much like all the others he'd presented to her over the years. She thought one day she'd have mastered how to answer but her palms still became clammy, her chest tightened and she felt dizzy the same as the first time he'd asked her such a simple question.

"I think i deserve whatever you give to me." Y/n could see him preen at the obvious submission, a cat like grin taking over his features as he moved fast, leaning down and hoisting her into his arms as Y/n yelped in surprise. 

"And if i think i deserve more for such a reward? What would you give to me, what would you do to see them?" His hands held her thighs in a deadly grip as he walked them through the apartment, her hands gripping his shoulders as her eyes darted around trying to gauge her surroundings. 

"Dove." His tone held a warning as her eyes dropped back to his as he slowed his pace and pressed her against a wall, her eyes moving to where their bed sat behind him, the sheets newly changed and perfectly arranged. Moving her eyes back to his as she tried to hide her fear, recalling what his old friend had said, she knew what he wanted. He'd always wanted it, and now nothing she said could be put inbetween. He was holding her family against her for a family of his own, although even if she hadn't asked, she'd still be in the same position. Being told to ask for it. 

"I don't know." Y/n stuttered out, aware of how hot she was becoming, the panic seeping into her bones at the thought of being a mother, she could see it in his eyes, feel it against her thigh as he looked at her like prey.

"That's okay my precious dove, i don't expect my beautiful wife to have to think about things. Why don't i just take what i deserve and you look pretty whilst i do?" Coriolanus pressed his face into her neck, pressing her against the wall with his body so his hands could push her dress up and around her waist. 

"You make those pretty noises for me and take me just as you normally do. But this time i'm going to fuck a baby into you just as i have wanted to do since i met you." Y/n let out a small yelp as she felt his fingers reach into her underwear, her mind dissociating as he whispered words she couldn't hear into her ear. 

"No! You don't get to do that!" Coriolanus shouted all of a sudden, pulling Y/n back to where she now laid against the bed, her dress gone and her husband angrily stood between her legs, hands gripping the bed til his fingers were white as he seethed.

"I'm sorry." Y/n forced out, it wasn't often he noticed her mind was elsewhere, too consumed by his pleasure and how her body responded. She allowed her body to relax, whilst her mind ran through fields, dove into lakes and occasionally put her back into the game except now she was fighting against Coriolanus. Raising a hand she lightly touched his face, guiding him down until she could kiss him, soothing his anger as she wrapped her legs around him. Guiding him to where he wanted to be, allowing him to enter her as he sighed at the loving embrace, pulling back to push his head into her beck. Placing small kissing against her hot skin, hands roaming along her as he moved against her. Y/n was given reprieve as she closed her eyes, imagining she was swimming in the lake with Coriolanus, a memory she fondly looked back on. Two friends swimming together, and in her memory she could remove the look in his eyes, the way his hands touched her and instead it was a beautiful memory of a time when she felt safe. 

"You are so beautiful, i knew i had to have you. Since the minute you were picked you were mine, you were my tribute, to save and nurture. To protect. And now you are going to repay me, with a beautiful child for us to love. Although i do fear i will never love our child as much as i love you. But everyone will know you are forever mine, no one will ever hurt you." Y/n placed a hand on his hair, running it through his curls as she let out a sigh, spurring her husband on as he raised his head.

"I cannot wait to see you round with my child." Y/n nodded, pulling him down to her lips as she raised her hips to meet his thrusts, knowing his own words were spurring him more than any action she could do. He was in control.

Y/n sat next to Snow, their children, grandchildren and great grandchildren all stood behind them as he unveiled the 75th hunger games, the 3rd Quarter Quells. And his last hope of ending the rebellion. But all Y/n hoped for, was that the Mockingjay would sing and she could be free at last.

[aemondsbabe]

Making Amends

summary: a fancy party & praising || you finally see why michael hates going home for the holidays and treat him the way he deserves

pairing: michael gavey x f!reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, breast/nipple play, heavy praise, riding, brief cockwarming, cursing, brief mention of daddy kink but it’s not used, dirty talk, angy michael (not at reader), angst but happy ending, parents being stupid, choking, let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 3.4k

a/n: happy day twelve of 12 days of smuff!!! we did it!!! a very merry christmas to all those who celebrate; i hope your holidays are full of love and fun! I hope y’all enjoy this one & i look forward to writing many more stories in the new year!

TAUNT | Part 1

PRAISE | Taunt Part 2

this one can be read as a continuation of taunt & praise or as a stand alone!!

12 days of smuff masterlist!

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

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“Ohh, Michael!” An older woman croons, making you and your boyfriend turn your heads at the same time, “How lovely to see you!” 

“Nice to see you too, Aunt Janet.” Michael says, his voice monotone, and gives the woman an awkward half-hug. You give him a sympathetic grin when he rolls his eyes at you over her shoulder.

“And who is this?” She asks, turning to look you up and down with a smile.

“She’s my girlfriend,” Michael explains, taking a second to introduce the two of you, “We met at uni.” 

“Nice to meet you.” You smile politely and shake her hand. 

“How wonderful!” She turns to you and puts a hand on your forearm before leaning in slightly with a grin, “We were beginning to give up on this one ever finding someone to put up with him!” She grins, giggling like it’s the funniest joke in the world. 

You merely awkwardly chuckle, though it only takes one glance at Michael to know he’s fuming. You can’t really blame him, this is how it’s been all evening, ever since you’d arrived at his parents house. Michael had tried to talk you out of accompanying him to their annual Christmas party, claiming that hell would be a lesser punishment, but you’d insisted, saying it couldn’t be that bad. 

When you’d first pulled up to the Gavey’s home, you’d been excited! They’d gone all out with the decorations, though Michael claimed they usually did, but that didn’t stop you from marveling at all the garland, lights, and wreaths that adorned every inch of the house. And since this year’s party was apparently more formal than usual, that just gave you the chance to ogle at your boyfriend in a tux, which was an automatic win in your book.

And yet, here you are, listening to yet another joke at Michael’s expense and hating every second of it. It seemed like every relative and family friend had one in store, if it wasn’t about finally finding someone to put up with him, it was about what he must’ve done to bribe you into it, or that he must be paying you to be here. Not to mention the backhanded compliments; you’d grown so tired of hearing remarks about how they’re so happy that Michael had finally found someone or, “Oh, finally! Took him long enough!” 

“Old fucking bat,” Michael mutters under his breath as Aunt Janet totters off, “Knew we shouldn’t have come.” He grumbles, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose.

“M’sorry, babe,” you sigh, giving him a small half smile as you place a comforting hand on his leg, “I don’t understand why they can’t simply be nice.

He scoffs next to you, rolling his eyes with a sardonic smile, “Wouldn’t be a real Gavey Christmas without snide comments, fucking losers.” 

The evening continues in the same fashion and suddenly you understand why Michael has always been so defensive and eager to prove himself, you would be too in a family like this. 

You can tell your boyfriend is operating on a very short fuse and offer him a placating smile every time you notice him clenching his jaw or notice his breathing pick up, chest heaving under his black suit jacket. 

However, it’s finally a comment his father makes during dinner that sets him off. You’ve hardly started eating when it happens, with everyone sitting around the Gavey’s impressively large dining room table passing various dishes back and forth. 

“So,” Mrs. Gavey started, giving Michael a pointed look as she refilled her glass of wine, “How were your marks this term?” 

You glance down in time to see your boyfriend white knuckle his fork and quickly stroke a hand over his knee, which seems to help lessen his tension somewhat, thankfully. 

“Distinctions,” he answers dryly, keeping his eyes fixed on the table, “Obviously.” 

His mom simply nods, not offering any praise or even a generic, “Well done,” much to your surprise. 

And a few seconds later, everything blows up. 

“How’s that friend of yours doing?” Mr. Gavey butts in, setting his steak knife down as he speaks, “What was his name? Owen… Oscar, maybe?” 

“Oliver.” Michael corrects him, so quickly and quietly that you’re surprised his dad even catches it. 

“Oliver! Of course, and how’s he doing? Hm? You haven’t mentioned him in some time.” 

There’s a beat of silence in which you fight the urge to kick Mr. Gavey under the table, knowing exactly where this would go. 

“We don’t… talk anymore. I haven’t seen him for ages.” He grits out; his leg tenses up under your palm once again when his mother lets out a disappointed sigh, as if she were getting ready to scold a small child. 

“Michael, honestly,” she starts with a small shake of her head, “It’s not good for you to be so socially isolated all the time.” 

“I’m fine.”

“What about that other boy you used to go around with, hm?” His mom continues on, seemingly oblivious to his foul mood, “The one you were so close to in primary school, oh, he was lovely.” 

“Felix, wasn’t it?” Mr. Gavey quips, “Whatever happened to him? I always thought he had such a good head on his shoulders.” 

“He’s a cunt.” Your boyfriend seethes lowly, all but vibrating with rage as he spits each word out. 

“What was that, dear?” His mom asks, none the wiser. 

“He’s a cunt!” Michael exclaims, his fork clattering across the table as he tosses it down, scraping his chair back across the floor. 

“Michael!” Mrs. Gavey chides, a horrified look on her normally placid face as she, quite literally, clutches at her pearls. 

“If you’ll fucking excuse me.” Michael mutters, tossing his cloth napkin down onto the table with a dull thud before retreating from the table with a growl. 

The silence that follows is deafening as everyone stays frozen at the table for a moment; you have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing at the shell shocked expression on his grandmother’s face. 

After a beat, Mr. and Mrs. Gavey begin falling all over themselves to apologize, awkwardly laughing as they make excuses for Michael, as if their bullying hadn’t made him snap. 

“I’m gonna go check on him,” you say after a moment, giving polite smiles to his parents as you stand from the table, “Just to make sure he’s okay.” 

“Of course, dear,” his mother nods sagely, ever the beacon of motherly wisdom, “We know how sensitive little Michael is.” 

As soon as your back is turned you roll your eyes, nose wrinkling in disgust. Little Michael? What the fuck? 

It only takes you a minute to locate him upstairs as you quickly spot the door to his childhood bedroom tightly closed. You smile sadly as you walk over to it, you pause for a moment before knocking softly. 

“Michael?” You call, pressing an ear against the door, “You in there?” Your brows furrow when you hear a small sniffle from the other side of the door and your hand automatically goes to the doorknob, a sigh of relief leaving you when it easily turns. 

Your heart breaks when you push the door open and peek inside, quickly spotting Michael on his bed, head in his hands, shoulders shaking. 

“Oh,” you breathe, hastily closing the door as you let yourself into his room, “Michael.” You sigh, sitting beside him on his small twin bed and slinging an arm around his shoulders. 

“M’fine…” He says softly, dejectedly. 

“You are not,” you pull him to you, rubbing a hand over his bicep as you hold him closely, “No one would expect you to be, not after all that.” 

He merely nods and tucks his head into your neck, sniffling sadly as his blond hair tickles your chin, one arm wraps around you while he busies himself with plucking lightly at the hem of your dress, running his finger over the smooth satin seam. 

“You wanna talk about it?” You ask softly, pressing a sweet kiss to the crown of his head. 

“Not tonight,” his voice is muffled slightly against your collarbone as he speaks, “Please.” 

You nod, opting to stay quiet and simply hold him for the time being. 

You don’t know how much time passes but eventually, he seems to calm down, at least his shoulders stop trembling and he stops rubbing at his eyes and sniffling. 

Finally, once his breathing has evened out, you decide to speak up. 

“They don’t deserve you.” You murmur, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze, your heart twisting when you see his beautiful blue eyes rimmed with red. 

“Love…” He sighs, ready to fight you on it. 

“That’s all I wanted to say,” you assure him quickly, “They don’t.” 

You hold his face in your hands gently, studying him with a soft smile. He really did look delectable in his suit, so smartly put together and polished. 

Michael must be feeling the same way, no doubt riding the small high that usually came after a solid rush of emotion. His eyes darken as he looks back at you, Adam’s apple bobbing enticingly in his throat as he swallows thickly. 

You don’t know who moves first, unable to find it within yourself to care as his warm lips slot perfectly against your own. 

A relieved groan sounds from his chest and his hands immediately come up to cup your waist, his thumbs rubbing appreciatively over the soft material of your dress as you shiver, already getting lost in his touch. 

“Mikey,” you murmur, biting into your lower lip as he kisses down across your jaw, his hands scrambling to pull you into his lap, “S-Should we?” Your voice trembles as he gently sucks at the sensitive spot on your neck, drawing your mind further and further from the party taking place downstairs. 

“Need you,” he rasps, unable to stop himself from smirking as you keen against him when he skirts his hands up your form to cup your breasts through your dress, your nipples already hard and wanting against the satin, “Just – I need you, love.”

He’s so desperate, you couldn’t say no and finally decide to throw caution to the wind. You smile triumphantly as you run your hands over his trim waist, tucking them under his jacket to get closer to him, savoring the feel of his warm skin even through the thin material of his button down. 

Finally, you push the suit jacket off his shoulders and, needing to feel him against you, waste no time hastily undoing the buttons on his shirt, yanking it out from under his trousers and belt before quickly dropping both to the floor. 

Apparently just as impatient, Michael chooses to simply push the thin straps of your dress off of your shoulders and growls deeply when your dress falls down your chest, exposing your breasts to his hungry gaze. Without missing a beat, he pulls you closer to him, groaning as your core presses tightly against his still-clothed erection. As soon as your chest is level with his face, he mouths at the underside of your breast, cupping the other in his hand. He peers up at you through his glasses, already fogging up against his cheeks, as he wraps his pink lips around your nipple and gingerly sucks it into his mouth, groaning against your supple skin at the breathy moan you let out. 

You hold his head against your chest, fingers gripping tightly at his short hair as your head tilts back, small whimpers and whines escaping past your lips as you try your best to stay quiet. Your hips seem to move of their own accord, rocking against him as he worships your breasts. 

“Michael,” you whimper, your core clenching tightly when you look down and take in his flushed face. You press your lips against his again, frantically kissing him as your tongue invades his mouth, “What do you want?”

“You.” His reply is automatic, his hands kneading greedily at your tits as he stares up at you, bare chest already heaving. 

You can’t help but chuckle a little, pride blooming in your chest at the fact that he’s already this strung out. Nevertheless, you give a quick shake of your head, smirking when he whines impatiently. 

“How do you want me, Mikey?” 

The desperate look behind his eyes softens instantly, his pink lips parting enough to reveal the tiniest sliver of his front teeth. Somehow, he blushes more and just barely shakes his head at you, swallowing thickly like he always does when he’s flustered. 

“Can you be on top?” He asks quietly, blue eyes flitting between yours behind his gold-rimmed glasses, “I just – I don’t have it in me to be daddy tonight, love.” He confesses quickly.

You chuckle again, always impressed with him when he shows his more vulnerable side, and instantly you nod, cupping his soft cheeks again. 

“Of course I can do that,” you keep your voice soft, even the small kiss you give him is soft, “Lay back for me, yeah? I don’t wanna wait.”

  Nodding eagerly, he doesn’t waste time and leans back on the narrow bed, helping you climb atop him as he does. He groans appreciatively as you settle on his hips, licking his lips as he stares up at you. He watches as your breasts heave with every breath while his hands trace down over your hips to cup your ass. 

“You’re so beautiful, love,” he murmurs, tugging your dress up over your bum before kneading the supple flesh, watching intently as you whimper above him, “So soft and pretty and fuck– fucking perfect.” He finishes with a growl, blue eyes rolling back when you rock down against him. 

Heat courses through your veins at his words and you hurry to undo his belt, the metal buckle tinkling softly in the quiet of his bedroom as you push it to the side, too frantic to bother to pull it off him entirely. Your fingers quickly find the button of his trousers and you all but yank them open the second you have the zipper undone, sighing happily as his hard cock bobs against his stomach, the head already flushed and steadily leaking. 

“Jesus Christ,” he groans, his back arching a little with the relief of his erection finally being freed, “Y’gonna ride me, princess?”

“Mhm,” you nod with a smirk, wiggling on his lap as you situate yourself perfectly above his length, “You deserve to be taken care of, Michael.” You coo softly, bending forward a little to pull your lacy underwear to the side, not having the patience to properly remove them.

Your comment seems to have gone to your boyfriend’s head and you smirk when you feel his cock jump up, twitching against your center as a soft groan leaves him. You bite your lip when you grab his length, loving how warm it felt in your hand. Carefully, you position him at your dripping center and slot the head against your entrance. 

Both of you moan in unison as you sink down slowly, his thick length filling you completely as your hips finally press against his. 

“Goddammit,” he curses, roughly grabbing your ass as he squeezes his eyes shut, trying to keep himself anchored even though he knows in the back of his mind it’s useless with how tightly you’re gripping him, “You feel so fucking good, pretty girl, fucking love this sweet little cunt.” 

His praises go straight to your core and you clench around him, somehow tighter, making him grunt underneath you. Bracing your hands on his shoulders, you start moving your hips over him, using your thighs to push off of his lap before sinking back down, whining when you feel the head of his cock press perfectly against that delicious little spot inside you.

“You’re so good, Mikey, fuck,” you pant, fighting to keep your eyes open to savor each expression that crosses his flushed face, “Y-You feel so perfect, holy shit, everything about you is perfect.”

He groans deeply, lower lip trembling as he stares up at you in awe, brows furrowed as he takes in every inch of you. Blue eyes trace slowly over your form, lingering on your face before looking over your breasts. He swallows thickly as he pauses to watch them bounce tantalizingly, matching every one of your thrusts against him. Eventually, he looks down and moans softly, watching your slick pussy move over his length. 

“Yeah, princess?” He encourages, making you smile softly as you realize how badly he needs this, how badly he needs to be told how good he is. 

“Y-Yeah, shit,” you whimper, head spinning when he leans up to lick over one of your nipples, gently suckling at the bud as you continue, “You’re the best, Michael, fuck – best boyfriend, you’re so smart and s-so precious and f-funny and – and God!”

You practically squeal when his thumb comes down to rub at your clit, your eyes crossing at the sudden jolt of pleasure that washes over you. 

“I love you, holy fuck,” you huff, thighs burning as you move somehow quicker over him, “I love you, I love – oh, shit – everything about you.” Your voice is hoarse as you breathe through soft pants, practically squirming on top of him as your head spins every time he circles his thumb over you. 

“I love you too, princess,” he hums, pulling you down for a quick, desperate kiss, “You’re so damn good to me.”

“You deserve it,” you say quickly, swallowing as you pant above him, your heart hammering wildly in your chest, “You deserve everything, Michael, you’re so, so good.” 

He growls at that, lips parting as he watches you. He keeps circling a thumb over your clit but fans the rest of his fingers out, holding your hip more securely. You hardly have time to think before you squeak in surprise, gasping as he begins rutting his hips up into you, the tip of his cock hitting your sensitive spot at a dizzying speed. 

“O-Oh, shit!” You huff, eyes wide and wild, “Michael, Mikey, I –” You cut yourself off with a loud cry, too loud given the circumstances, but your brain whites out the second he reaches up and wraps a hand around your throat, not tightly enough to choke you but enough to hold you steady above him. 

“Y’close, love?” He pants, smirking when you quickly nod, “Fucking cum with me, princess, shit, you fucking deserve it.” He hisses through clenched teeth.

All you can do is obey, your fingernails digging harshly into his shoulders as your high finally washes over you. You freeze, tensing up above him as you cry out, uncaring for the party below as your cunt clenches tightly around his length, rhythmically milking him. 

“Shit, shit, fuck,” he grunts beneath you, eyes rolling back as he feels your walls contracting around his cock, drawing his own high from him as well, “Good girl, good girl.” He praises before finally cumming with a snarl. You whimper when you feel him twitch inside you, coating your walls with his thick spend. 

The two of you lay panting for a while, neither of you wanting to get up or break the spell of the safe little bubble you seem to be stuck in as you lazily press kisses against whatever bits of skin you can reach. 

Eventually, the sound of holiday music seems to float up to you from downstairs, along with the sounds of laughter and loud conversation. In the background, you can just barely make out the sound of wrapping paper tearing and taped boxes being pulled open. 

“Sounds like it’s time for gifts,” you muse, tracing shapes on Michael’s chest as he holds you to him, softening length still buried within you, “You wanna join them again?”

He hums softly and shakes his head no with a small smile before tilting his head to look at you, his glasses sitting slightly crooked on his nose as he studies your flushed face. One hand rubs soothingly over your back as he holds you tightly to him, relishing the way your soft skin feels against him.

“Don’t need any gifts from those entitled idiots,” he laughs softly and leans down just enough to press a soft, sweet kiss to your forehead, “I have the most perfect gift right here with me already.”

tagged lovelies: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenwife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @little-moonbeam-666 @blackswxnn @alerisc @fan-goddess @wickedfrsgrl @moonriseoverkyoto @echos-muses @schniiipsel @avidreader73 @marvelescvpe @imawhorecrux @grsveeth0m @rae-11 @ms-morningstaarr @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wolfdressedinlace @cl-0-vr @kittendoll05 @beautbuck @eponaartemisa @trshngyn @brettlovessuckingcocks @alerisc

(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)

[luvymelody]

NAME : gojo satoru , jujustu kaisen

SONG : me and your mama , childish gambino

SUMMARY : gojo satoru has been your bodyguard for ages, he's nearly your age, only 1 year older. your father insists that gojo is there around you for your safety.

you can read part 2 here!

(non like magic world au/no jujustu sorcerers au)

y/n honestly weren't very sure of what business her father did.

he had tons money, crazy rich. the house she lived in was gigantic and she had been living it in since she were born. she was 19 now, still living in her childhood home as her father has insisted her to.

to the plus side of being rich, there would always be some bodyguard in her sights. like always, the only reason she wouldn't is in her bedroom or bathroom, but even then, they would stand outside, waiting patiently for her.

y/n had a personal bodyguard, been there since she were 12, gojo satoru. he was her favourite. he was fairly cute and the two of them really had a connection.

he'd even let her sneak out when she were 15 sometimes, but he would always be with her, he looked out towards the busy streets while she bought food from the midnight vendors, smiling at her while he ate along with her.

he listened to her whenever she needed a good cry and he held her in his arms, stroking her head as he switched his radio off behind her back, not wanting to leave her.

he'd let her play with his hair while he sat cross-legged and she sat on his lap, doing whatever she wanted as she applied makeup to his face and slapping his cheek lightly as he blinked from the mascara she were putting on his white eyelashes.

he stood behind the wall as she argued with her father about wanting to leave, shortly after when she were storming off and away, he was a corner away, tucking her into his arms as tears rolled down her face.

-

satoru had a soft spot for y/n, being introduced to her when she was 12 and he was 13.

"gojo, meet y/n. y/n meet gojo satoru."

gojo was a bit taller than y/n. he had his hands behind his back but was picking at his nails behind his back.

y/n was standing next to her father, smiling widely,

"hi gojo!"

"hi y/n."

after that, gojo would linger around her presence more, y/n's father was friends with gojo's father, which led to gojo's father leading y/n's father some of his own men, including his son. gojo's father was more than happy to led his own flesh and blood, gojo's father hoped that the young boy and girl would get closer.

gojo helped her with her homework, seeing as he was in a higher grade level and he already knew the material. he helped her choose out what she wanted to wear to school, even if it was a private academy and she had a uniform, she was allowed to wear simple makeup and accessories. he really liked it when she wore the white clip.

school got too dangerous, without y/n's knowledge, she was pulled out of school, going into homeschooling, tutors for each subject as satoru sat beside her for help.

it was late, y/n's father was out doing business and satoru and y/n were sat on the dining table as she was finishing homework from her english tutor.

she was 15, her chin on her hand as her elbow rested on the table and her free hand spinning a pen, satoru was beside her, looking at her, noticing her hands spin the pen, watching her her eyelashes closed and reopened slowly, as if she was tired. she was tired, her head bobbing up and down.

"you can go to sleep if you want, y/n. let's do your skincare routine."

"wait- lemme finish the questions first.."

"you're gonna fall asleep before you do sweetie."

"no i won't, satoru.."

"sure you won't."

satoru silently crossed his arms, leaning back onto the chair as y/n crossed her arms on the table and rested her head on them, looking at the papers infront of her.

her eyes slowly came to a close eventually, and satoru heard the soft, quiet snores and satoru chuckled. he stood up, moving her position to hold her under her thighs as she wrapped her arms around his neck, her legs hanging mid air next to his as he stood straight up.

"told 'ya you'd fall asleep."

"shh.."

she wrapped her arms tighter around his neck and yawned in his ear, he put one hand underneath her, under her butt to the side of her hip and one hand on her lower back.

he walked to her room, moving his head to signal to the bodyguard to open her door as he walked to her bathroom, sliding the door open and sitting her on the counter.

"just stay sitting up for me pretty, i'm doing your skincare."

-

y/n had brought satoru into her bathroom while she did her skincare night routine sometimes, so he knew the basics on what she did. she wanted to gossip about the girls in her school while she patted her skin with essence.

"she even put food in her locker and it got moldy because she didn't know it was there! like who does that?"

satoru was leaning on the door to prevent anyone from getting in, his arms crossed while nodding and watching her actions.

"yeah, who does that?"

-

eventually he finished, laying her down on her bed as she gingerly tucked her head into her pillow deeper, hugging herself with her blanket. satoru silently left the room, going back to the dining room table to pick up the homework and supplies, bringing it back to y/n's room.

he ended up doing her homework as he felt bad, making it slightly into y/n's handwriting, a little bit messier than her normal handwriting.

he finished, standing up and walking to y/n's bed who was sleeping, just to check on her. he crouched next to her, kissing the back of her hand that laid on the side near the edge.

"goodnight y/n."

[idlerin]

love sick — profiles: ppl who think love sucks + [name]

masterlist — inarizaki dogs | episode one

[name] has been invested in finding “the one” ever since she was little. this was mostly influenced by her parents who were so deeply in love that taught her to seek the kind of love she deserved to have. it became worse when she was 12 and was exposed to the world of romance books, you could say she loved love.

[name] has a sort of “love guru” business going on, except she’s unpaid. it all started during first year, where she helped a guy from her media literacy class named akaashi keiji confess to his long-time crush who was their senior, bokuto koutaro. the confession went well and they ended up dating, bokuto teased his friend to get advice from you and in his words “maybe your crush would like you back” (the response of said friend was “don’t call it a crush, what are we, highschoolers?”).

[name] did end up giving good advice and bokuto’s friend eventually started dating the “crush”. a rumor started spreading that [name] was real-life cupid and a bunch of people started reaching out to her to ask for help. it became such a big deal that [name] ended up creating an email for them to send their love-related concerns (in it, she mentions that to keep in mind her acads come first!).

the mini “business” ended up being a hit and she developed many nicknames in the process, like “resident cupid” and “campus sweetheart”.

[name] is a 2nd year student along with atsumu while kiyoko and semi are 3rd years and kageyama is a 1st year.

[name], kiyoko, and semi are childhood friends (but kiyoko and semi are older than [name] by a year), they lived on the same street, so they’ve practically known each other forever. they all went to the same junior high but split up in senior high school, kiyoko went to karasuno while [name] and semi went to shiratorizawa. this meant it was harder for them to meet kiyoko constantly, [name] and semi had to dorm within campus because they lived a bit far from the school itself.

[name] met kageyama when she went to one of the volleyball tournaments and kiyoko introduced them to each other. they instantly hit it off ([name] found him adorable and so “little brother coded”) because of [name] being so talkative (kageyama kept thinking how she acted so much like hinata).

[name] and atsumu became friends the summer before the start of the first semester, while [name] was moving in to her new dorm. it was very much a meet ugly because atsumu accidentally splashed his drink on [name]’s brand new sweater (and his first reaction was to flirt with her), [name] responds by saying it was alright and ignored his attempts. atsumu became curious and not long after they realized they were assigned to the same hall! (you have no escape now).

atsumu soon realizes the two of you had too similar personalities and became partners in crime. then you soon figure out your lives were more interconnected than you thought (he knew kageyama). you don’t know since when has your life been surrounded by volleyball (you were always the most unathletic person in the room).

it was only until all of your worlds collide one saturday morning where you accidentally make plans with all of them all at once (you were out of it because you stayed up late responding to love advice emails) that they all became friends too (semi and atsumu instantly hit it off, kiyoko is civil with everyone, kageyama was still in miyagi).

you, you were just happy everything in your life was falling into place just the way you like it!

until of course, suna rintarou came into the picture. none other than atsumu’s friend you don’t acknowledge and the name constantly found in the emails you receive.

love sick ! a suna rintarou social media au

synopsis. cupid! calling cupid! as the resident matchmaker slash hopeless romantic of tokyo university, you are the person people look for to get love advice or to set them up with the love of their lives. when suna rintarou comes to you asking for the opposite, to help fend people away from trying to get with him, to the extremes of even asking to fake date you, you couldn't refuse! mostly because you did owe him since he was on the receiving end of a bunch of your clients’ unsuccessful love efforts (hey, you do warn them your matchmaking only has a 62.3% success rate).

a/n — belated happy valentines everyone! (still valentines for some people tho i think) i hope you guys has a nice day :)

taglist is OPEN ! + @yas-mjm @agirlwholovesalot @yenqa @fairywriter-oracle @noideawhothatis @renardiererin @cheezitwh0re @zephestia @nicerthanu @wolffmaiden @2baddies-1porsche @bluegrey02 @qualitygiantshoepsychic @lylovw @fo-love @cloudsvna @apinu @coyloves @rockleeisbaeeee @geombyu @girlkissersco @reveusecherie @erenjvegerrr @rintarousgirl @ris-krispie @kamikokii @complexivelovely @hearts4faey @yuzurins @eleanorheartschishiya @hearts4itoshi @justsomeonewhoyoudontknow @rijhi @sleepystrwbrryy @snail-squasher @seiamor @wave2love @le000xxgrd @iuspired @theidontknowmehn @linmabbe @rntrsuna @skomiomi @tenaciouswritersheep @i-am-l0ved

to those i can not tag, kindly change your mentions settings thank you!

note: this is not the whole taglist, it’s been a year since i posted the masterlist to love sick and there may be people who don’t want to be in it anymore so i’ve only tagged those who confirmed they still want to be in the taglist through this post by liking or commenting as i don’t want to bother people! hehe

[antiquitiesandlabyrinths]

Nefretiti

Neferneferuaten Nefertiti, or Nofretiti, (14th century BC; 18th dynasty, New Kingdom) is perhaps best well known for her bust, which has become world famous for its' uniqueness and craftsmanship. But Nefertiti played a role in one of the most controversial eras of Egyptian history. She is one of the most well-recorded Queens of ancient Egypt, but very little is known about her actual life besides conjecture.

Let's start with dissecting her name. Most people will divide her name up into the words Nefer and Titi; Nefer being a common word in ancient Egypt meaning beauty and goodness. In actuality, her name is divided up as neferet - iiti, more classically transliterated as Nfr.t-jy.tj. The t belongs to nefer as it is the denomination of a female pronoun in the ancient Egyptian language, and the jy.tj means coming or has come. All together, her name means The Beautiful One Has Come.

Nefertiti is indeed beautiful; she is, as mentioned earlier, one of the most depicted Queens of Egyptian history, with her image appearing on a great number of walls, in carvings and in paintings, and of course, statues. The reason for this is partly due to her marriage to the Heretic Pharaoh, Akhenaten. To understand this connection a little better, one must have some background about the Pharaoh Akhenaten.

Akhenaten and Nefertiti were married close to when Akhenaten was coronated, which was for him around the age of 16 or 18, and for Nefertiti was around the age of 12 to 16. Akhenaten is fairly well known Pharaoh. His controversial history has made sure of that, despite the fact that after he died, the following Pharaohs did everything in their power to rid Egypt of his memory by destroying his city and erasing all images of him. Akhenaten started off as Amenhotep IV––a name which connects him to the Egyptian God Amun, often associated with the sun, but representing hiddenness, and one of the highest and most powerful Gods of Egypt. The cult of Amun at the time of the New Kingdom was perhaps the most widespread cult of worship in Egypt, and the 18th dynasty, to which the Pharaoh Amenhotep IV belongs, is the first dynasty of the New Kingdom.

This was, apparently, unsatisfactory for the Pharaoh Amenhotep IV. Still, for the first 5 years of his reign, he followed Amun's cult, until he made a dramatic religious change to worship of the Aten; a new God that represented the sun disc. Aten was a faceless God, and the first mention of the word aten was in the Old Kingdom, and back then, it meant 'disc'. While Aten was worshipped as a mere aspect of Ra, the Sun God, in Amenhopte IV's father's (Amenhotep III) reign, Amenhotep IV decided that the Aten should be the primary deity worshipped. Amenhotep IV changed his name to Akhenaten, and worshipped the Aten above all else, as the nurturer of the world, the creator, and the giver of life. This would've likely been fine; however, Akhenaten decided that the Aten should be the only God worshipped, and banned the worship of all other Gods.

Ancient Egypt had been polytheistic since it's very earliest beginnings. Akhenaten essentially introduced monotheism out of nowhere and insisted all his subjects follow him in his new faith, outlawing all other worships, and forcing many priests to abandon the temples of other Gods. Additionally, ancient Egyptians were very accustomed to using an image to worship a God; the image usually being an animal, human, or an animal-headed human. But the Aten was a disc. Although the Aten had been worshipped in Amenhotep III's reign as a falcon-headed solar deity, Akhenaten insisted that the Aten be only shown as a disc with rays reaching out, with small hands on each ray.

Obviously, this caused a lot of dissent in Egypt and the following reigns.

Another interesting point of contention was the fashion in which the Aten interacted with the royal family. In the past, the Pharaoh was connected to the Gods more than any other human––he was the bridge between the two worlds, and the mediator between humanity and the Gods. This was, generally, not a task shared by the whole of the royal family. But in Atenism, the Aten would only shine its life-giving rays onto the Pharaoh and his royal wife; in this case, Akhenaten and Nefertiti. Thus the people, if they wanted to experience the life and love of the only, legally worshippable God, would have to go through the Pharaoh and his wife. This power would've likely, at least in part, been given to the royal family in order to cement their changes, and protect them from any backlash.

This massive change in culture and religion had great affects on ancient Egypt at the time. The style of ancient Egyptian art changed drastically, and the figures of the royal family were now represented as sinuous and gangly, often with large, sagging bellies and breasts, and curved, graceful facial features. Since Akhenaten and Nefertiti, as the royal family, were so important to this new religion of Atenism, the two of them were depicted in a number of scenes––many of them unique to the Amarna period, which is the name for the period in which Atenism was installed. These scenes were familial in nature; depicting the royal couple sitting with their children and bathing in Aten's life-light, throwing gifts down to the people, and engaging with one another. This is one of the main reasons that Nefertiti is the most widely-depicted Queen of Egypt. Not only is she depicted often as the wife of Akhenaten, but she is drawn in her own right––she makes offerings to the Aten on her own, and there are depictions of her smiting the enemies of Egypt, which is a role traditionally given solely to the Pharaoh.

Another piece of evidence for the high status of Nefertiti comes from this famous depiction of the royal Amarna family:

Here, Nefertiti sits on the right side, opposite her husband, Akhenaten. Akhenaten is holding up one of his children, and Nefertiti holds another two children; three of the six daughters that Nefertiti would bear for Akhenaten. The children are depicted in an almost grotesque, alien fashion, though it's not something you can really fault the artists for; it took a long time for artists across the world to realize that babies are not, in fact, just tiny humans, and that their proportions are different. Still, the style of the Amarna period is not helpful; with their large, oval heads, thin limbs, and sagging stomachs, it is difficult to imagine that anyone could be traditionally, Egyptian beautiful. Yet there is still a strange beauty to it; the sagging bellies are meant to call to mind Hapi, a God of great fertility, and the artist's ability to capture the facial features and emotions of their subject is amplified by this new and forgiving artstyle.

This image is a house altar. What that means is that people were encouraged, and evidentially did, worship the royal family in their homes, which is somewhat unprecedented. House altars were usually for Gods such as Tawaret and Bes, who were protectors of the household. But now, with traditional Egyptian religion banned, the typical house altar was now a shrine to Akhenaten and Nefertiti, and by extension, their children, which again shows the importance and power bestowed upon not just the Pharaoh, but his wife as well, as the two are represented in equal size.

Another interesting note about this particular house altar is the thrones on which Akhenaten and Nefertiti are seated. While Akhenaten's seat is mostly blank, Nefertiti is seated upon a throne reserved only for Pharaohs, the reason for this being the decorations which depict the Sema-Tawy ritual; the conjoining of the two lands.

Some time during the course of Akhenaten's reign, he decided to move the capital of Egypt to a deserted stretch of land along the Nile Valley, and called the new city Amarna, for which the period was named after. Here, the royal family took up residence, and this is where the cult center of the Aten would carry out its worship. This is also where Akhenaten royally screwed up his duties in foreign diplomacy, but that is a story for another day.

Before moving to Amarna, Nefertiti had three daughters in Thebes, the previous capital, and three more daughters in Amarna. In order, her daughter's names were Meritaten, Meketaten, and Ankhesenpaaten; then in Amarna, Neferneferuaten Tasherit, Neferneferure, and the youngest, Setepenre. It was to a lesser wife of Akhenaten's that the famous boy Pharaoh Tutankhamun was born, and originally, his name was Tutankhaten.

During his reign, when concerning Nefertiti, Akhenaten placed special attention upon her and loved her dearly, which is why she was one of the most powerful Queens of Egypt. Akhenaten described her as "possessed of charm" and "sweet of love", that "one is happy to hear her voice," and that "contents the Aten with her sweet voice". The two husband and wife were rarely depicted separately, and Akhenaten gave Nefertiti the title of 'heiress', although she was not the daughter of a King. Instead, what many scholars believe Akhenaten meant by this, was that she was to be his successor.

After Akhenaten's death, two Pharaohs ruled for a short time before Tutankhamun took over, and one of those Pharaohs is believed to have possibly been Nefertiti under the name of Neferneferuaten, which means beautiful is the beauty of the Aten. It is still debated whether this was in fact Nefertiti, but given that Nefertiti had given herself the name Neferneferuaten far before Akhenaten's death, and the elvated status gifted by her husband, it seems somewhat likely.

In essence, due to the circumstances of her life and her husband, Nefertiti was elevated to a status that never came before or after her life. Women in ancient Egypt were awarded the same rights as a man, but the wife of the Pharaoh was never depicted as equal to the Pharaoh in such a fashion, as being Pharaoh meant being the intermediary between the heavenly and the earthly, and was a special accorded honour. Nefertiti, perhaps due in part to her charisma and beauty, was given a position equal to the Pharaoh, which never happened unless it was a woman who was becoming Pharaoh. As controversial as Akhenaten's reign was, he did love his wife greatly.

I want to share my opinion on this subject a little, which is essentially to say, that I don't like Akhenaten and I don't try to hide it. His worship of the Aten is alright, but it is the banning of all other worship which rests very uneasily in me. That being said, there is a good source which goes more into detail about Nefertiti, and it is very pro-Akhenaten and anti-ancient Egyptian religion, instead glorifying the monotheism of Atenism and such. Still, it is a valuable resource; Nefertiti and Cleopatra: Queen-monarchs of Ancient Egypt, by Julia Samson, and can be found on Internet Archive here.

[hard--headed--woman]

This woman's name, or more like her pseudo, is

Lisa Ben !

(yes, it's the anagram of the word lesbian)

Lisa Ben, real name Edythe Eyde, was born in 1921 and died in 2015. She was an American editor, fantasy author, fanzine contributor and songwriter. She created the world's first known lesbian publication, Vice Versa.

In high school, she fell in love with a girl for the first time. When this girl left her, the young Edythe, devastated, spoke about it to her mother, and her reaction was so violent that she decided to never again talk about her personal and romantic life with her parents.

After attending university for two years, and after saving for three years, she left her parents and moved, first to Palo Alto and then to Los Angeles in 1945.

By this time, she was already well known to science fiction fans for her involvement in fandom since 1941, with her numerous publications (cartoons, reviews) mainly under the pseudonym Tigrina (although we also know her real name) in various fanzines.

In 1946, she began frequenting lesbian bars, and although she was never caught by the police during one of their many raids, she was questioned several times by them.

She began publishing Vice Versa in 1947 to widen her social circle.

"I was lonely and I wanted to be able to meet other people like me. I couldn't just walk down the street and say: "I'm looking for lesbian friends". Vice Versa gave me a way to reach out to other gay girls - a way to get to know other girls ... when I had something to give away and was trying to convince girls to write for my magazine, I no longer had trouble finding new people."

While working as a secretary for RKO Pictures, she typed each issue of the magazine twice with five carbon copies, making a total of 12 copies of each issue (a technique that had been used for science fiction fanzines, of which she had extensive experience). She initially sent three copies to friends and distributed the rest by hand, in particular at the If Club, one of the first lesbian bars in Los Angeles and encouraged her readers to pass on their copies to friends rather than throwing them away. She estimates that dozens of people read each copy. Although careful to avoid anything that might be considered 'dirty' or risqué, she stopped sending copies after a friend told her she could be arrested for sending obscene material through the post. Publications dealing with homosexuality were automatically considered obscene under the Comstock Act until 1958.

Edythe Eyde published nine issues of Vice Versa, from June 1947 to February 1948. She stopped publishing it after the sale of RKO, forcing her to change jobs. Her new assignment left her with no free time at work to type the magazine. She had also achieved her goal of increasing her circle of friends, and wanted to spend more time enjoying her new life rather than writing about it. Despite the magazine's short run, she is credited with "setting the agenda that dominated lesbian and gay journalism for fifty years introducing many of the features that would define the myriad publications that would follow.""

In the 1950s, Edythe Eyde began writing for The Ladder, the first nationally distributed lesbian magazine. The Ladder was published by Daughters of Bilitis (DOB), the first lesbian group, of which she was a member. It was while writing for The Ladder that she began using the pseudonym Lisa Ben, an anagram of lesbian, when her first choice, Ima Spinster, was rejected. The Ladder has also reprinted content from Vice Versa.

Edythe Eyde rekindled her interest in music and began writing and performing parodies based on popular songs in a local gay club called The Flamingo. For example, I'm Gonna Sit Right Down and Write Myself a Letter became I'm gonna sit right down and write my butch a letter. She was inspired to write her songs by a determination to create gay entertainment that was neither profane nor degrading to homosexuals, particularly after being put off by the jokes and self-deprecating songs made by performers in gay clubs. The Daughters of Bilitis released a single by Eyde, signed Lisa Ben, after fundraising. The record featured her own composition, Cruisin' Down the Boulevard with a lesbian version of Frankie and Johnny on the other side. Her music has been used in several documentary films.

At the age of 36, Edythe Eyde entered into her first and only long-term relationship, which lasted three years, until her partner gambled away all her money. Since then, she decided not to pursue another serious relationship.

She appeared in the 1984 documentary Before Stonewall, discussing her life and work and performing several of her parody songs. She continued to work in various secretarial positions until her retirement. She was honoured in 1997 as a founder of the Los Angeles LGBT community. In 2010, the National Lesbian and Gay Journalists Association inducted Edythe Eyde into its Hall of Fame.

She died on 22 December 2015 at the age of 94.

She left behind her a huge legacy and had a big importance for the gay culture and the gay community. For example, the National Association of Lesbian and Gay Journalists' Lisa Ben Award for Reporting is "designed to honor a journalist whose work stands out for its insight and impact through interesting features about LGBTQ people, the LGBTQ community or LGBTQ issues."

Her work for the lesbian community was very important and will never be forgotten.

Hope you enjoyed it and see you tomorrow !

[mangooes]

Chapter 2 - I weep for the Departed

Chapter 1 - All will eventually fall upon the earth

Chapter 3 - Ready for another dance, shadow monarch?

Chapter 4 - Interwined for now, perhaps forever?

Acheron’s pov

“hahh..hahh..” gasps for air was heard as a girl with purple mixed with black hair woke up abruptly. “That dream, or was it a distant memory..?” the girl asked herself with uncertainty. “Pick yourself together, it's your first day of school.” 

Waking up as a kid is a new experience for me. It’s been a long time since I've experienced growth itself.  I learn the ways of growing, I've become used to the terms of school and studying, and human activities that make me feel.. slightly colored. 

As of today, I'm starting my junior high school. I’m currently stuck in a 12 year old’s body as a disguise. In this life, the aeons are kind enough to give me a whole free lifetime where I can do anything and be anyone. With this I started my morning routine which consists of feeding cats, making breakfast, and leaving home for a walk to the school. 

As I started walking down the streets of the neighborhood, people greeted me with their usual smiles, “Morning Mei!” “Good Morning' Mei!” A chorus of greetings comes my way as I return the gesture with a greeting and a nod. In this timeline, people addressed me as “Mei” instead of “Acheron.” Quite a shock huh? People may view "Acheron" as a wierd name, so i settled with the most common name i can think of. As I continued my walk down the street, I noticed something off. A dimensional rift has opened it seems, it’s energy fluctuating all over the place. Of course the humans in this world wouldn’t notice either way. They are just innocent human beings with no strength whatsoever. 

As the girl pondered in her thoughts, she failed to notice a crack right below her, sucking her into the dimensional rift that was opened for a few seconds before turning invisible in the eyes of civilians. 

‘Ugh where am i..?’ the girl stands up after falling for what seems like forever. But the girl isn’t a normal one it seems as she has experienced something far worse. ‘This is the dimensional rift…?’ She looks around with uncertainty, her sword summoned as she holds it firmly ready to unsheath it if anything is bound to happen. 

“What is a mere human doing here?” a creature voiced behind her. The girl turned around to admire the distance between the creature and herself. “Heh and here I thought the Shadow Monarch was the one who would show up, but it’s just a useless human, pathetic. Oh well it would be easy getting rid of you.” the creature smiled sadistically and laughed maniaclly

The girl just stared with an empty look, “Who are you?” as she sighed inwardly. The creature feeling annoyed answered with arrogance. “Are you looking down on me girl? I could kill you in an instant as I the Monarch of Insect!” The girl hums in response as she looks down to her sword holding it’s hilt. 

The Monarch of Insect feeling underestimated rages in anger as attacks of poison were sent in the direction of the said girl. “You dare underestimate me useless human!” as the creature shouts in rage, which turned into pure shock as the girl effortlessly avoid the attacks without batting an eye. 

“Well then I haven't introduced myself haven’t I? The name is Acheron, it’s nice to meet you…Monarch of Insects.” The girl said as she unsheath her sword as colors of purple and black drained from her features turning into red blood and white. “I weep for the departed..” the girl said as the Monarch of Insects stares in shock, for the first time ever feeling scared of the immense  display of power the girl in front of her is showing, she is no ordinary human. “You.! I will never lose to a pesky human!” As the Monarch of Insects sends attacks one after another towards the girl, but it all comes to a failure as the girl draws her sword towards the Monarch, a tear drop of blood was seen on her face. Red blood lightning crackles and strikes like thunder in a raging storm. “May all ends reach nihility.. suffering in eternal emptiness.” As blinding white lights and a shake of the ground impacts the dimensional rift leaving nothing of the Monarch of Insects and a big hole in the middle of their previous battleground.

The girl stands holding her sword, sheathing it again. This time the colors of the girl didn’t return, it stays blood red white as she looks at the sky of the dimensional rifts that pours drops of rain with blood. The girl sighs as she closes her eyes before continuing, “So Monarch of Shadows, with what pleasure do I owe you for showing my presence?” the girl said without looking behind her.

The said Monarch comes out of the shadow, with his armor full of shadow wisps eyeing the girl with a shock expression replaced with longing as the bright glowing purple eyes intensify. "I finally found you again, Acheron.. no or should i say Mei..?" the monarch says with emotions conveying thousands of words as he stares at the same eyes that used to meet his grey and purple ones in the previous timeline. 

i finished a new chapter for this skadnka i dont know how to link it tho ill find a way to do so, anyways i'll start writing for other jinwoo fanfic ideas cuz he needs more fanfics tbh, its either a frieren reader or a robin reader from star rail! i like imagining like such different characters to one dimentions and all so i hope it's not boring errr untill next time! tmrw prob haha any sudgestions for characters are open tho so yep

[zoeysdamn]

Bloodied petals - Xavier Thorpe x reader | Part.4

Summary: You remember memories of your childhood with Xavier, hoping to get some courage from it to talk things out with him. Wednesday starts to suspect something, and Principal Weems isn't happy with either of you.

Warnings: angst, mention of blood, underage drinking, swearing. IMPORTANT: the last part of the taglist had made my tumblr bug so hard so it didn't work, I'm sorry for those who hadn't received a notification while being tagged. If the problem continues for further parts, I'll consider deleting the taglist bc fuck I just lost 40 minutes re-editing this chapter 3 times before finally achieving to post it

[Masterlist] [Part.1] [Part.2] [Part.3]

Xavier had been your first kiss. You doubted he remembered it but you definitely did. When your aunt had dropped you at the Thorpe manor for the first time, you were just turning 6 and had that funny haircut that almost hid your eyes. Your aunt Cordelia wasn’t so fond of this hairstyle, but things had been hard for you since your mom’s passing less than six months ago; taking care of the birdnest you were calling hair could wait for the situation to settle down. 

Aunt Cordelia had explained to you that you were going to live with a dear friend of hers for some time because she couldn’t take you with her to an upcoming witch congress on the other side of the world. Couldn’t or wouldn��t you didn’t know, to you the only thing that mattered was that you were going to a foreign place, and your mom wasn’t here anymore to comfort you. 

“You’ll be fine here,” had assured your aunt while your luggage was taken out of a car by the butler. 

“Can’t I come with you?” you had asked again with a wobbling lip and watery eyes. 

“You know you can’t pumpkin,” said Aunt Cordelia. “Mr.Thorpe has a son about your age, I’m sure you’ll become friends very fast.” 

And just like that, she left, and you found yourself alone in a manor you didn’t know. 

Mr.Thorpe had been intimidating but the good thing was he hadn’t more time for you than your aunt did, and as soon he introduced himself to you he left too. So you had fled to your new room and hidden in the closet to cry. You didn’t want to be here, you didn’t even want to be raised by Aunt Cordelia ; you wanted your mom, but that was impossible now. 

Then, you had heard the creak of the closet’s door being opened and you had timidly peaked up from behind your hand. A little boy was crouching down to your level, looking at you curiously with his big hazel eyes. 

“Why are you sad?” he had asked with his childish voice. 

Taken aback by his question, you had wiped the tears on your cheeks, “I’m not sad, I’m just lonely.” 

He had looked at you curiously; then he had raised his little hand to brush away the hair that was obstructing your face. The gesture had made you flinch a bit, but he was gentle and somehow, you had felt like you could trust this boy. He had beamed, exposing the gap left by a missing tooth. 

“You have pretty eyes!” he had exclaimed. 

“Thanks?” you had said unsure, still sniffling. 

He nodded vigorously, his smile plastered on his chubby face. Then he extended his hand to you. “Wanna get out of here? I know where the cookies are hidden, we can search for them together, it’ll be fun!” 

This brought a small smile to your face for the first time in weeks, and you had taken his hand. Within the next few days, you had your hair cut. That’s how you met Xavier Thorpe. 

From there, your friendship bloomed. Aunt Cordelia tried to spend at least six months a year with you, and you lived at her house for that time. Well, she tried, and sometimes you found yourself dropped by the Thorpe manor more than intended. This didn’t bother you, you enjoyed Xavier’s company, and you were best friends after all. And considering his own father was also absent frequently, he loved when you were there. When you turned 12, your aunt brought you along on her trips to make a sort of pilgrimage around all the important sites of witchcraft around the world. According to her, it was time for you to learn more about your history and soak up their energy. The trip was so long, you didn’t see Xavier for two whole years. And when you came back to the Thorpe manor at 14, the both of you had changed a lot. Gone was the little boy with scraped knees and round cheeks, the teenager you met at the door was lanky and definitely taller than you now. 

“Hey,” he had greeted you with a lopsided grin. The twinkle in his eyes though hadn’t changed the slightest. 

“Hi,” you had smiled back. “You’ve let your hair grow,” you noticed. 

“You lost the braces,” he counter-attacked, not losing his smile for a second. 

He opened his arms and you didn’t lose a breath before diving into the hug. Oh, you had missed him. You had thought that everything would be like usual, but since puberty, you definitely noticed that things had indeed changed between you two. Your aunt asked a little more about Xavier when you went home, and you didn’t look at him the same way. He was more…attractive somehow; you loved the long hair. The same week you came back, the two of you went to a party with some of his friends from the normie school he went to. This wasn’t the first time any of you had alcohol, but it definitely was the first time you got drunk. A silly game was suggested and in your already advanced tipsy state, you and Xavier had thought this would be fun. You remembered vaguely the rules being to spin a bottle and then kiss someone or drink to avoid it, or something. To be honest most of your memories of that night were kind of blurry ; but when the bottle had pointed in your direction and your eyes had met Xavier’s, you distinctly remember your heart missing a beat. Maybe you had thought about protesting or something, maybe your mind had been too cloudy to properly ponder whether or not you should do this. It didn’t matter, because the next thing you knew then, Xavier had leaned to you and had pressed his lips against yours. That’s how you got your first kiss, by kissing your best friend during a drinking game. 

The next day the hangover had been so hard, Xavier didn’t remember half of the previous evening, not even your kiss. But you definitely did. Over the years you had forced yourself to push it down, thinking it was only a silly teenagers game and that you shouldn’t get too excited about this. 

Thinking about this now, you thought that you had been in love with Xavier for far longer than you imagined. You should have seen it coming, and yet here you were, with flowers slowly growing in your lungs because of your feelings. 

You were wandering in Jericho as the other Nevermore students were dispatched in different areas for Outreach day. Principal Weems had reminded you that everyone’s presence was requested for the inauguration ceremony at the end of the day – that yes, even you miss L/N are to attend this. Then she had let you free for the remainder of the day, and you were glad she did. You had a few things to buy at Jericho, this could be the occasion. But while you were making your purchases you were starting to realize that you were only postponing the moment when you’ll eventually have to talk with Xavier. 

He had left the Nightshades’ crypt quite upset, it pained you even more to know that he was mad at you. You needed to fix this and fast. So you ended up pushing the Weathervane’s doors  open, eyes searching for familiar hazel hair. Enid had texted you where Xavier had the displeasure of working that day and reading the coffee shop's name had made you wince. Hopefully, Tyler won't be working today. 

“Hey L/N,” you heard from the counter and you cursed internally. Turning to the counter, you narrowed your eyes at the curly-haired boy. 

“Galpin,” you greeted him half-heartedly as you came closer. Ever since what he and his friends had done to Xavier on last year’s Outreach day, you despised him. 

“Do you, uh, want to order something?” he asked. 

God, the way he acted all innocent and kind made you want to punch him in the face. On any other day you probably would have, but right now you were just drained. 

“Sure,” you finally let out, “I’ll have a large cappuccino with two shots of espresso, please.”

“Coming right up,” he said before starting to make your order, and you find a seat next to the window. 

For a moment, you put your face in your hands like it would give you some peace for a while. Everything had escalated so quickly, you didn’t even know if there was going to be an actual end to all of this. 

The sound of a mug being dropped in front of you on the table made you look up, and the sight of Xavier surprised you. 

“Tyler mentioned that you had ordered something,” he explained to your surprised expression. 

Glancing to the boy awkwardly standing behind the counter, who tried to look like he was busy and not looking at the two of you, you gave him the slightest nod of the head as a thanks. Xavier sat on the opposite bench, arms plopped on the table nervously. 

“Look I–”

“There’s something–” you both started at the same time. It made you chuckle nervously, “Go on,” you pressed him gently. 

He passed a hand through his hair nervously, “I- I’m sorry I’ve been such a dick yesterday, okay?”. The guilt in his eyes was evident and you were relieved to hear that he had calmed down. “I shouldn’t have called you a liar.”

“No, that’s on me,” you muttered, playing with the still untouched mug. “I’m…not feeling well these days,” you finally admitted. 

Xavier’s eyebrows knitted together in worry. To his knowledge, you never had any serious health issues. The flu once in a while maybe, but nothing that sounded that bad. He leaned closer to you over the table, a serious look on his face. 

“What’s going on?” he asked in a hushed, yet gentle voice. 

Suddenly, all the courage you had built up vanished. You had been so confident that you were going to tell Xavier everything, that this was the only way of making things right. You felt like you owed him that, after all, he had everything to do with your condition. 

But as you were about to expose the truth to him…something stopped you. 

The feeling of a warm hand on your trembling ones made you snap back to reality. Xavier’s face was fully painted in worry now. 

“You okay?” he asked. “You zoned out for a second.” 

You nodded slowly, gulping. No need to lie to yourself, you knew exactly what was stopping you from telling Xavier everything. The fear of losing him. Deep down you were afraid that if you told him about the Hanahaki disease, and what – who – caused it, he would end up leaving you. And you were far more afraid of losing Xavier than you were of coughing flowers. Because without Xavier, you feared that you'd end up alone again. And you never wanted to ever feel like that again. 

Licking your lips, you wondered what you should say to him. So you lied again. 

“I’m ill,” you blurted out. “I got sick around a week ago, that’s why I’ve been so distant lately.”

Technically, you weren’t really lying to him. It had been more than a week since the first symptoms, but the rest was true. You simply choose…not to disclose everything. 

“Shit,” he swore under his breath, “are you feeling okay? What is it?”

“I’m fine,” you squeezed his hand in reassurance, “I had no idea of what it was until recently so…”

“Is this serious?” he inquired again. 

Flashes of the pages mentioning the inevitable death of patients appeared in your mind. 

“No,” you finally let out. “I’ll get better at some point I’m sure. Bought a few things to make a potion to ease the symptoms.” 

Xavier glanced at your bag and nodded. Whether or not he believed you, he didn’t press the matter further. 

“I should have been honest with you sooner, it’s just…it had been a couple of rough weeks,” you said with a weak smile. 

He nodded in understanding, still you could see he was still worried about you. “Yeah, I get it…between that, Wednesday's arrival and the whole monster thing it had been a little bit crazy, right?”

You slightly frowned at him. It wasn’t it, he was misreading the situation completely! As you were about to say something, you suddenly became very aware of faint whispers around you. So did Xavier apparently because the two of you whipped your heads around at the same time. Glancing behind your shoulder you noticed a group of normies teenagers throwing glances at you, whispering and giggling among themselves. Some of their words reached your ears.

“...think…’re together?...”

“maybe…freaks…from Neverm…”

“...kinda cute…couple…”

You felt your face burn. Not in shame, but for the first time in the possibility of what it implied. Many people had mistaken Xavier and you as a couple before, but it was the first time you truly felt flustered by the idea of it. 

Then Xavier pulled his hand off of yours and the sudden loss of contact made your heart drop. He sank into his seat further, putting more distance between the two of you. Eyes flickering to him in disbelief, you only met his sorry expression. 

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he muttered while casting his eyes away. 

You wanted to protest, to say that it didn’t make you uncomfortable at all, but words were stuck in your throat. As were petals. 

“I should probably go back to work,” said Xavier while getting up. “But I’ll finish in an hour, if you want to wait?”

“Sure,” you mumbled. 

Tears started to burn behind your eyes. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go at all. The light ring of the doorbell made both of your heads turn to Wednesday who had just arrived. Her sole presence, usually not unwelcomed, was dreadful to you and you felt like you were becoming lightheaded. The burning inside your chest bloomed and the whole coffee shop felt suffocating. Raising from your seat abruptly you gathered your bag and vest without a word. 

“Where are you doing?” asked Xavier lightly touching your shoulder. 

“I’m- I’m not feeling well,” you excused yourself, which made Wednesday raise her eyebrow as she came to your side. “I need some air.” Feeling Xavier’s worried eyes on your back you squeezed the hand on your shoulder. “We’ll talk about this later, okay?” you whispered to him. 

He seemed to hesitate, but between your pleading eyes and the intense bored expression on Wednesday’s face, he finally conceded. 

“Okay,” he said softly. “I’ll see you later.”

You smiled weakly at him before rushing to the exit, head low. Walking rapidly through the streets you hurried until you found an empty alley which you immediately rushed into before throwing up in a garbage can. The flowers and blood mixed together regurgitated from your sore throat, as quickly as they had appeared within your chest. Tears flooded down your cheeks as the last petals left your mouth. Coughing fits were getting more and more unpredictable. You choked on your own breath, mouth tasting bitter and throat ablaze. If you didn’t do something real quick, you were going to die. But for now, you just felt so, so tired. Weems and the inaugural ceremony be damned, you were going back to Nevermore to sleep your problems away. Then, you’ll take it from here. 

In the end, returning to the school to sleep and avoid facing your problems gave you more problems. A few hours later you were standing in Principal Weems’ office alongside Wednesday, getting a lecture about setting Crackstone’s statue on fire. 

“For the hundredth time, I didn’t set fire to that statue!” you pleaded to the principal. 

“And what evidence of your innocence do you have, miss L/N?” snapped Weems back. “Should you have attended the ceremony like you were supposed to, we wouldn’t have this conversation.” 

“I attended this ridiculous ceremony,” noted Wednesday out loud, “yet you’re suspecting me too.” 

She shot a deadly glare at your impassable roommate, “And I have every reason to miss Addams. The two of you had good motives to set this statue on fire, and miss L/N had mysteriously disappeared just before the ceremony.” 

“I wasn’t feeling well that’s all,” you tried to defend yourself. “Do you really think I’d brand myself a witch in front of all of Jericho? Those people hate my guts, I don’t want to have anything to do with their shitty town!” 

Weem’s hand hit her desk with force, “Mind your language, young lady!”

Wednesday only rolled her eyes at the whole ordeal. You on the other hand, were pretty sure she had something to do with it – but unlike you she had a solid alibi. And surprisingly, she stepped in your defense. 

“Y/N is right about not feeling well these days,” she interjected, making both Weems’ head and yours snap to her. “She sometimes coughs in her sleep, this is very unpleasant.”

Principal Weems narrowed her eyes at you, “Is that true, miss L/N? Have you fallen ill?”

You nodded slowly, “Just small flu. Must’ve caught a cold during the Poe cup.” 

The principal looked pointedly at the two of you, breathing hard through her nostril. Then she threw an accusatory finger at your pair.

“I want,” she articulated slowly, “the two of you out of my office. Now. And I don’t want to ever hear about you either.” 

None of you needed to be asked twice. Once in the corridors and far enough from Weems’ office, you turned to Wednesday. 

“Thank you for having my back with Weems,” you said quietly, “you didn’t have to do that.”

“No I didn’t,” she repeated. “I was right, you do cough at night and it is unpleasant.” 

That made you frown slightly. None of your roommates shouldn’t have been able to hear you, you still casted the silencing spell every night. 

“Since when?” 

“About a week,” she said, while narrowing her eyes. 

You started to think hard. It had been far more than a week since you had started to cast the spell. This was basic magic, a simple but efficient spell that you had been practising for years. There was no reason for you to fail it. The only logical explanation…was that your magic was weakening. The natural reaction for your mind would be to list every reason for it not to be possible, but then you thought about the sudden stop of your spell during the Poe cup, which had made your boat stop dead in its tracks; and so it added up. The disease had not only damaged your body, but it had also consequences on your powers. This was definitely concerning. 

“You are indeed sick, aren’t you?” asked Wednesday. At the surprised look on your face, she quickly added, “Don’t think I care, I’m just readjusting your position on my suspects' list by considering all the parameters.”

You scoffed in disbelief “I’m on your suspect list? No shit, Wednesday?”

“It is perfectly plausible,” she said plainly. “With your powers and knowledge in potions, you have the ability to increase your strength I suspect, and you know the school’s grounds by heart,” you heard her listing, “you’ve spent more time alone than usual for the past weeks, with no one to testify of your presence elsewhere than on the crime scenes, and when I started to suspect Xavier you immediately fled to his defence without proof, like you knew for sure he couldn’t be the monster. So tell me Y/N,” she continued while looking at you dead in the eye, “why couldn’t you be the killer?” 

Struck by her question you could only blink in disbelief. What. the. hell? 

“Excuse me what?” you articulated after long seconds of silence. 

“You should be honored,” she said flatly, “it requires some skills to be added to a potential suspect list.” 

“I don’t want to be on a fucking suspect list,” you spat, “you’re delusional Wednesday.” 

“My observations and suppositions are rarely wrong, I’m not the one burying herself in denial.”

Stepping closer to her you gritted your teeth together. “I can’t be the monster, I literally can’t.” 

“What proof do you have of that?” she retorted. 

Fuming, you tried to not play her game. But staying calm in front of her insolent lay back behavior was starting to be incredibly harder. “Drop it,” you spat. 

“You’re just proving me right.”

That’s when you lost it, “I CAN’T BECAUSE I’M FUCKING DYING OKAY?” you roared at her. 

For a moment, nothing but echoes of your words resonated within the corridor’s walls. Your ragged breaths contrasted with Wednesday’s neutral expression, unfazed by your scream. Only after a few seconds of a mortifying silence did you realize what you just did because you had lost your nerves. Shutting your eyes tightly you internally prayed that no one around heard you. 

“I don’t think you’re lying,” simply said Wednesday. 

You let out a scoff, “I’m not, trust me. I’m sick, and my health is deteriorating every day. If you don’t want to believe me that’s fine but leave me the fuck out of your stupid list.” 

She raised an unimpressed eyebrow at you, “Until you’re blessed with black plague, I doubt you’ll die because of whatever sickness you have.”

“God, can you stop being that infuriating for once?” you snapped bitterly. “I’ve done every possible research on the subject and I know I’m doomed, okay?” 

A silence took place between the two of you. You whipped away tears that had gathered at the corner of your eyes. It was the first time you had admitted it out loud ; it hurt more than you thought. 

“I’m sorry to hear about your condition,” said Wednesday quietly ; and now matter how surprised you were by her words, you still thanked her quietly. “Does a cure exist?”

“Not that I’m aware of,” you muttered. “It…healing doesn’t depend on me.” At her frown, you lightly shrugged. “Flowers are growing in my lungs because of unrequited romantic feelings,” you explained quietly. “Eventually, I’ll either die from internal bleeding or choking.” 

This time, it was her turn to scoff, “You’re plagued with a deadly disease because you have feelings for someone? You just gave me the final proof that feelings are indeed useless, thank you.”

“I don’t fucking need your sarcasm,” you seethed, “if you want to be a stone-cold bitch that’s on you, but no need to mock me for having actual feelings. I didn’t choose this.” 

She looked at you closely, like she was trying to figure out something. Which she apparently did rather quickly: “It’s Xavier, isn’t it? He’s the one you have…feelings for.” 

You turned your face away, licking your lips. Wednesday was really the last person you wanted to have this conservation with. 

“You’re getting weak and you’re losing your powers because you have feelings for a meaningless man,” she repeated. “I thought you were better than that.”

“Fuck off Wednesday,” you cried, finally reaching your breaking point. “I’m not asking to understand, I’m not even asking you to be compassionate but shit, for once in your life be respectful of someone’s privacy.”

With that, you turned away and rushed into the corridors. You didn’t want to hate Wednesday, she had done nothing to you ; even regarding Xavier’s feelings, you were confident that her arrival hadn’t triggered your condition. Maybe it had accelerated it, but sooner or later Xavier would have fallen in love with someone else, and you would have been doomed anyway. So yeah, you didn’t want to hate Wednesday Addams ; but she definitely didn’t make things easy. 

A little less than an hour later, you found yourself walking through the school’s woods. The heated discussion with Wednesday had strangely given you enough courage to go and find Xavier, and finally explain everything to him. Weakened by your feelings? My ass! you thought. You were going to tell what was going on with you to Xavier, and to hell with the consequences on your friendship. 

You soon reached his artist shed in the middle of the woods. Its reassuring aura made you a little more at ease than the very public space of the Weathervane. Knocking on the door, you waited for Xavier to answer you. When he opened the door, you let out a loud gasp at the wound on his neck. 

“Holy shit, what happened to you?” you asked while pushing him back inside immediately before coming in. You immediately went to take a look at his bleeding jaw, carefully tilting his chin to the side. 

“Just an accident with a painting, nothing too bad,” he tried to reassure you. 

“Nothing bad? Xavier, you have claw marks bleeding on your neck, this isn’t some small scratch!” 

You could see that he was trying to brush it away, but you forced him to sit on a stool while you inspected the extent of his injuries. It didn’t look so bad, you could probably do something about it. Carefully dragging your fingers on the outlines of the claw marks you whispered a healing spell. The bleeding gradually stopped, and the cells of the skin started to slowly repair themselves. Though it started here, and the marks were still here looking like fresh scars. You gritted your teeth in frustration. With the full extent of your powers, you could have probably healed him completely. 

“That should do,” you muttered with a small smile. 

“Thanks,” he smiled back. “So,” he said after a few seconds of silence, “guess we need to talk, uh?” 

“Yeah,” you chuckled awkwardly, “guess we do.”

You fidgeted with your sleeve, toying with words in your mind. It was always more difficult to launch a subject when the time had come. 

“I’m not doing well,” you said, trying to resume the discussion where it had been left out back at the Weathervane, “and I’m not sure if I can really get better…on my own.”

Xavier leaned forward, fully focused on the matter. “How can I help you?”

You almost wanted to cry. He wanted so much to help you while having no idea of how bad the situation was. 

“This is…kind of complicated to talk about,” you hesitated. But to your surprise, Xavier gently took your hand into one of his bigger ones. 

“Hey,” he called softly, “you know you can tell me anything, right?” 

After a slight hesitation, you nodded slowly. Yet words didn’t seem to come out of your mouth. You started to open your mouth to finally confess, but something caught your eye. A large canvas hung on an easel, all in black and white tones. Like pulled by the invisible force of curiosity you slowly approached it, your hand slipping away from Xavier’s. As you approached and noticed who was painted you felt your heart sink into your chest. The painted figure of Wednesday playing her cello was taunting you, and it painfully reminded you of that night in Xavier’s room, when he had started to sketch it. It reminded you that you had no chance. 

Xavier called out for you from behind. But when you turned back to him, he was met with the look of your teary eyes. 

“You see, that’s why I can’t tell you,” you whispered sadly, “I can’t spoil this from you.” 

“What are you talking about?” he frowned. 

“This,” you said, gesturing at the portrait, “I can’t ruin your happiness with my burden, Xav.”

“Y/N please,” he said getting up, “please tell me what’s going on.” 

You shook your head, defeated. “I can’t,” you whispered weakly. “Sorry I- I got to go.” 

Before Xavier could react you slipped away and rushed outside of the shed. Tears were running down your cheeks but you couldn’t care less. It was clear that you could never interfere in Xavier’s feelings for Wednesday, so why bother saying anything to him at all? You heard him call you as soon as you had crossed the door but you didn’t dare to turn back and face him. He managed to grab your wrist when you were barely a few meters away from the shed. 

“Please don’t shut me out,” he begged you. You still couldn’t face him on your own, so he gently tucked on your hand, turning you to him. “Please Y/N, tell me what’s going on with you, ‘cause I can guess on my own.” 

Hesitantly, you looked up at him. Even though your eyes were blurry because of tears, you couldn’t help yourself but lose yourself in the admiration of his face. His brown eyes, so deep and full of compassion, his sharp features framed by soft hazel eyes…you wanted to print this image in your mind for however long you had still to live. Just like that night in his room, your eyes flickered to his lips. This time you didn’t hesitate, and you leaned forward and pressed your lips against his. 

He flinched slightly, for the first second. But then he surprised himself thinking how soft your lips felt against his own. 

You stayed like this for long seconds. Keeping your eyes closed and savouring the moment, you then realized that Xavier wasn’t moving at all. Biting back the bitter feeling within your guts, you slowly parted from him. Xavier simply stood up there frozen in place ; not understanding why you had kissed him so suddenly. At his lack of reaction and dumbfounded expression, you wanted to cry again so badly. Instead, you looked up at him.  

“I wanted to do that at least once,” you whispered. No matter how you had tried to keep them at bay, tears were flooding down your cheeks now. 

Still stuck down in place, Xavier didn’t know what to say. But the face of his best friend, teared apart by pain and sadness, was already too much to handle for him. 

“I- I’m sorry Y/N,” he muttered, “I don’t…I like you, I truly do but…but not like this.” 

Through your tears, you tried to smile ; it was a pathetic attempt. “Yeah…I know,” you whispered weakly.

It would have been easier if you had the ability to vanish away on the spot. It would have made you avoid moving away from Xavier and returning to the school painfully slowly, each of your steps burdened by the weight of your broken heart and the knowledge that Xavier hadn’t even tried to stop you. It would also have saved you from running into Wednesday once again, and hearing her asking Xavier out for the ball in the distance. It would have. 

But you couldn’t vanish, instead, you were here shedding every tear you had along bloodied flowers, not even trying to stop either of them. 

You just had your heart shattered into a million pieces and the confirmation that there was no hope for you. You were doomed, and the flowers growing inside of your lungs would soon reach your body’s breaking point.

[Part.5] 

A/N:  Thanks everyone for your incredible support, I hope you enjoyed this part ♥

Hope you’re all doing okay, take care of you ♥

Taglist: 

(no need to ask at every chapter, you're added once, and you're added for the whole fic :D)

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Usernames not found by Tumblr and notified by DM:

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Plz tell me if I’ve forgotten you in the taglist (or if you wanna join!)

[gretavangroupie]

Vigilance (Chapter 13)

Word count: 12.1k

Pairings: Sam x OC, Jake x Reader

Warnings: 18+ as always, drinking, smoking, language, fluff, angst, smut.

This story is a collaboration with my best pal @gretavanmoon.

A/N: This chapter has to be broken into two parts thanks to Tumblr's character limits. I know this is a long one, but I hope you can stick with it until the end and then read part two! I promise this will be the only one that is this long. We will go back to our regular sized chapters next week. Enjoy!

READ CHAPTER 12 FIRST!

AUSTIN CITY LIMITS

JAKE POV

The time had come to return to the office space to regroup after most of Strange Horizons had wrapped up, and you were excited to discuss your new ideas with management. Many inebriated nights with your brothers had formulated a deep and diverse plan for the inevitable next leg of tour, and your ideas just kept building and building. 

The pandemic had placed a huge damper on your initial tour schedule, release dates and shows being pushed back dramatically. Not to mention having to deal with all of the new rules that were placed last year for venues…though it had been over a year since the world shut down, the effects were still massively trickling down. 

As you entered the office together, you thought back to over a year ago...the four of you had locked yourselves in a secluded cabin in the Smoky Mountains for a portion of time that you scarcely remember, only leaving to get supplies and food. It was there that you crafted a list of songs, some brand new and some dusted off from the depths of your library. 

The isolation that you felt being tucked away in the mountains was the perfect setting for the way you all wanted the album to be…loud, dynamic, mysterious, orgasmic and borderline perfect. Not a note out of place. You’d talked about making an album like this for as long as you’d been a band, and you’d decided it was time to make it happen. What better time to create it than in the midst of a worldwide shutdown? 

“Let’s make it sound like a film soundtrack, without the film…” Sam had said, setting the premise for exactly how he envisioned it. 

“Ha, a man after my own heart.” Josh had responded. “Are you saying you want to make the soundtrack to my first film before I even know what it’s about?”

Late nights had turned to early mornings of writing riffs, and introducing lyrics that spoke about the current state of the world and the more difficult subjects. Josh was truly in his element when it came to storytelling through his lyrics; you were absolutely blown away by his ability to talk about the here and now while making it sound like you were reading from a 500 year old novel. More often than not, partaking turned into conversations with the ghosts you were certain inhabited the old cabin’s walls, thrusting you into sleepless nights spent laying down haunting samples on Sam’s piano. 

Sam’s sonic concentration and being able to hear the music before you had even laid it down was perfectly tuned in…Daniel’s ability to think outside of the box when it came to bringing everything together as a whole...you found yourselves in a true state of enlightenment, visually and instrumentally, and you prayed that the outcome of your hard work was to be accepted well. 

Strange Horizons had been the trial run, and now it was time for your bigger idea to come to life. 

“We want to call it Dreams in Gold. A lyric from the magnum opus of the album, the crowning achievement of our careers so far. The premise of this album is a concoction of stories being told, dreams, if you will. We’ve got ideas all the way down to stage setting and album art. Every element is going to be intentional, and is going to tie into one another. It’s going to be all about details. The whole thing is going to be a journey, just like the storyline of the album itself. We want to include commissioned artists that we find organically, as well, to help with our visuals.”

“To begin with, we want to entice people to get back outside, hit the road and come and join us at shows. We’ve all been cooped up for too long and we want to show the fans that we’re still here. So, yes, we’re ready for another lengthy tour.” Josh began the meeting by condensing the details into a concise introduction to the panel of your management team. 

After a few hours of debating and compromise, the initial plans were set, and management was ecstatic about your new ideas. Things were truly looking great. 

You had one more small run of shows planned, a two-weekend span at Austin City Limits festival in Texas, then you were off to Los Angeles. Until then, it was time to relax, recharge, and enjoy every second alone with your girl.

HER POV

OCTOBER 2021

As you waited for the front desk attendant to finish with the person in front of you, your eyes flicked to the TV screen behind the desk, ‘Welcome to Austin’ it read in bright blue letters.

It was late, nearly 11:00pm when you finally arrived in Texas, flights delayed for nearly 2 hours due to weather. The van was late to pick you up at the airport and overall everyone was in a foul mood, yourself included.

“Next! Hi, how can I help you?” he asked.

“Hi, I just need to check in. Should be six rooms, under this name.” you say sliding the man your ID.

He clicks around on his computer for a few minutes, brow furrowing as he looks to you, “I see five rooms under this name. Looks like one was canceled about two weeks ago, and one was upgraded.”

“I’m sorry? Which room was canceled?” you ask.

“Looks like a Queen Non-Smoking…oh, actually the name on the room is yours.” he says, nervously.

“Mhmm, and the upgraded room?” you ask.

“Jacob Kiszka? Upgraded to a King Suite.” he answers. 

“Okay, and can you tell me who authorized the change?” you ask.

“Looks like it was Mr. Kiszka, ma’am.” he answers.

“Right... Okay. Well, that’s fine. Thank you.” you say, accepting your ID back from him.

“Here are your room keys, two in each pocket. The elevators are just to your left, vending and ice on each floor. If there’s anything I can do for you, just call the front desk.” he smiles.

“Thank you.” you say, grabbing the keys and turning back to head towards your group.

“Alright guys, let's end this miserable day. Sam…” you hand him his key. 

“Daniel…Josh… Summer…” you say in succession, handing them each their key cards.

“Jacob.” you say handing him his. 

“We have to be down here, in this spot ready to leave at 11:00am. The festival is being very stringent on timing, if we are late we don’t get any kind of sound check. Maybe a line check at best.” you say, as everyone begins rolling their luggage towards the elevators.

“Yes mother.” Josh replies with a smile.

As you all load into the elevator, everyone checks their floors, and presses their respective buttons, as it begins to rise. One by one they exit the elevator, first Summer, then Daniel, followed by Elle and Sam, leaving you, Jake and Josh in the tiny enclosed space.

Josh looks at the two of you, a knowing but contemplative look on his face as the elevator reaches his floor and the doors spring open. He steps out of the elevator, pausing to turn to the two of you. You can see the words on the tip of his tongue, but he bites them back and smiles as the doors close again.

You don't look at Jake until the doors fling open two floors above. You step out, and make your way to your room, pulling your suitcase next to you as you walk. As you stand at the door you stare at the wall, not making eye contact with him as he steps up to meet you.

“Baby…” he whines. “Don’t be mad…”

You turn to face him. “I would like to go to bed.” you hiss.

With a huff he taps the key card to the door, letting it unlock as you push it open. 

He rolls both of your suitcases inside, shutting the door and locking it behind him.

You slip your shoes off and walk across the room, pulling the curtains shut as you start to undress. “You can't just…do that! What if…someone found out! I would have no way to explain this!” you say, raising your voice.

“It’s fine baby. No one is going to know.” he says, trying to ease your tension.

“Josh knows! He totally knows. He basically just told us he knows and he didn’t even say anything!” you say, pulling your pajamas from your suitcase.

You pull on your pajama shorts, and slide your arms through the top as you start to button the buttons. 

“Listen…” he says, making his way over to you. “If our secret is safe with anyone, it’s him. People will eventually find out love, and personally I’m ready to shout it from the rooftops.” he says, his fingers taking over buttoning up your top. As he fastens the last button he rests his hand on the back of your neck, “I have slept next to you almost every night for weeks now. I’m not giving that up. No chance.” he smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You sigh, leaning into his chest as you wrap your arms around him. His bare skin on your cheek is warm, and calming. His very presence centering you and bringing you back down to earth.  “I’m not mad. I’m just…afraid of getting caught by the wrong person, you know?” you say.

“I know. I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen. I promise.” he says, squeezing you one last time before letting you go. 

He walks over to his suitcase and grabs his phone charger, plugging it into the wall as he strips off his pants. You knew you would never grow tired of seeing him like that. 

You slipped into the overly fluffy bed, and made your way to the middle, fluffing the pillows behind you.

“Oh you think you’re sleeping in the middle, huh?” he asks playfully, turning off the lamp.

He pulls the blankets back, sliding in next to you as he circles his arms around your waist. He lays his head on your chest, listening to the sound of your beating heart as he hums a tune..‘she’s a woman in a dream…’ 

“Thanks for not getting mad. I know it’s stupid and careless, but I… sleep better next to you.” he says softly into your chest.

“Mmhmmm… that’s the only reason right?” you ask.

“The list is endless of reasons that I need you.” he says, pressing a kiss to your lips and quickly pulling away to turn over to his back. 

You whine at the loss of his warmth, and you feel the bed shake with his chuckle, “Come on…” he says, opening his arms to you. You scoot further onto his side of the bed, and place yourself into his arms. 

He nuzzles his head into the top of yours, taking a deep breath. “Okay, my boss said I can’t be late tomorrow or I'll get in trouble, so I have to go to bed.” he says.

You giggle into his neck, as you twist your fingers with his. ‘Love you…”

“I love you too.” he says, and not too shortly after you both fall into a well deserved sleep.

—

JAKE POV

“I’ll go down first, then you come down in like ten minutes?” she said, a serious look on her face as she flicked through her iPad.

“You got it. Hey…” you said, pulling her by her waist.

She drops the iPad to her side as her eyes meet yours. 

“You’re killing it. Best coordinator we’ve ever had. So proud of you.” you say, really meaning every word. 

You could see her eyes beginning to grow misty at your words, so with a quick kiss, and a promise of later, you shooed her out the hotel room door to begin your ten minute wait.

—

Shockingly, everyone arrived downstairs on time and the van was parked and waiting for you at the entrance. Today was already going ten times better than yesterday, and you could tell Y/N was feeling less stressed because of it. 

As you all loaded into the van, you sat in the back with Josh, and scrolled through news on your phone.

Josh

11:07am: Anything you’d like to share?

You

11:08am: No thanks. I’m done sharing with my siblings.

Josh

11:09am: So…

You

11:10am: Later

The van arrived at the back gates, and you all made your way to the artist check in table, securing your wristbands and being shown to the area where your things were being loaded in. Your crew had been here since early this morning, getting the stage pieces loaded in and the gig boxes situated where they needed to be. Slated to go on at 6:30, you got there with enough time for a quick sound check, before spending the rest of the day exploring, and getting ready in your trailer for the day.

It was hot in Texas, significantly hotter than Nashville, and the sun beating down on you had you sweating even from just standing outside. You and Daniel drew the short straws on the artist interview, so as you stood and waited for your time slot, you turned to Daniel, “What’s up with you man? What’s going on? Where is Heidi?”

He clapped his hand against your shoulder blade and sighed, “She is…busy. At least that’s what she keeps telling me.”

You smiled as you shook your head, “Ahh…sorry to hear that dude.”

“Nah, you know what? It’s fine actually. Feels like things have kind of run its course, ya know? I’m starting to figure out who I am without her. Feels good.” he says, as you both take a step forward.

“Just want to see you happy brother, whatever that means for you.” you reply.

“Could say the same to you. Been a rough couple of weeks.” he says, trailing off.

“It has. But things are looking up.” you say, pushing up your sunglasses on your nose.

“Are they?” he asks.

You nod slowly, as the interviewer welcomed you to her table, relieving you from having that conversation just yet. 

—

A few hours and a few drinks later, you are feeling loose and free and happy preshow, for the first time since this tour started. Your skin felt stiff from the salt in your sweat and you wished you could just jump into the shower to rinse off. 

Making your way to the trailer, you stepped inside, but in the bathroom found no shower. Great.

Sam entered a few minutes later, and he was just as sweaty as you were. “This fucking sun is nuts.” you said, leaning against the couch.

“I know, I need a damn shower.” he said.

“Isn’t one. Already looked.” you replied.

“My hair is fucked. Maybe I can just wet it.” you said, staring off into space.

Sam grabbed two water jugs from under the table and held them up with a suspicious smile. “Like the old days?” 

It really had been a while since you did this, taking turns pouring water jugs for each other, not able to shower daily as you toured across the US in that tiny little van. Times had changed, but you knew you weren’t above it, and you never would be. You knew your roots.

Stepping outside you grabbed a lawn chair and took your shirt off, “Me first, then you?” you ask.

“Let’s do it.” he replied.

You sat down in the chair and threw your hair over the back, letting Sam pour the water over your head until it was completely saturated down to your roots. The water ran over your face and you wiped at your hairline, hoping most of the sweat would wash away. He continued pouring until the jug was empty and you felt your hair was clean enough. He ran his fingers through your hair, one last time as you heard footsteps approaching.

“What are you two doing?” Y/N’s voice filled with laughter as she watched on. 

“We are playing beauty salon! I have an opening at 5:00, if you’d like to book!” Sam answered enthusiastically.

She laughed and shook her head as she walked off, and you felt your chest grow warm, but this time it wasnt from the heat.

—

A few hours later, dressed in one of your favorite suits, you looked yourself over in the mirror feeling extremely confident about tonight's show. You knew you weren’t going to hold back. You were going to lay it all out there wordlessly confessing that the stars aligned in your favor after all these years. This one was for her. 

As you and your brothers took your shots and said your words of encouragement, you watched as Y/N checked over each of your outfits as you exited the trailer, saving yourself for last. 

As the door slammed shut behind Sam, you made your way over to her, iPad clutched to her chest as she smiled at you.

“I thought the green suit was my favorite… but now I don't know. You look…” she trailed off.

“Really? I wasn’t too sure about all the sparkly stuff at first, but it’s kind of growing on me.” you smile. 

“Jake…really. With your complexion, and your hair… you look so good. I have half a mind to make you change into something else.” she giggled.

Your favorite giggle.

“Anyways, you look perfect. Get out there, make me proud.” she smiled, and you laughed, knowing you were going to do just that. 

As you twisted the knob on the door, you stopped to look at her. “It’s all for you.” 

Her cheeks grew pink as she pressed a kiss to your cheek, and ushered you out the door. It really was all for her. It always has been.

—

As you made your way up the steps, your tech handed you your guitar and you took the stage, the crowd roaring violently in front of you. Your body felt like it was on fire as you played the opening notes, the deafening noise of the screams from thousands of people just fueling the flame. You finally had everything. You finally felt true happiness, and the best part was that tonight, when it was all over, and the room was quiet you got to share it with her.

The fire you had raging in your bones for this entire show continued to engulf you...you weren’t sure if it was the setting, the heat, or the fact that you finally had your girl back, but damn it felt good to be playing to a crowd again. 

You were two songs away from ‘Highway Tune’, and the sun was beginning to set. You took the tiniest of breaks, allowing yourself to look out over the crowd as darkness began to set in. The sweating, exhausted, blissed-out fans were having the time of their lives, and you were truly mirroring them tonight. You were giving it everything you had. You smiled as you made eye contact with a few of them, watching as they fell apart on their friends after you did so. Always so funny to see them react that way just because you looked at them.

Even with watching all these people, Y/N was filling your mind. All your thoughts, connected back to her. She was the one who was keeping this fire burning so bright. She gave you a reason. 

You glanced at Josh, then back out to the crowd again. As he spoke, something caught your eye…something, someone...very familiar in the audience. The crowd was an ocean of moving bodies, hindering your vision as you tried to zero in. You caught quick glimpses every few seconds, trying not to crane your neck or be caught staring. Was that…?

The cue came through to begin ‘The Weight of Dreams’, and your muscle memory kicked into high gear as you played, and scanned the crowd again. Red hat, white shirt. Your heart sank into your stomach. You were sure. 

You continued to play as you looked at Josh, making the eye contact only he, Sam, and Danny could recognize. You proceeded with the song as normal, trying to stay present with the crowd and your guitar. 

There he was again, in plain view. 

Fucking. Hell. 

The song went on, and you decided to forget for just a second. You trailed into your solo…7 minutes of most jarring guitar succession you’d ever written. The fire was still burning. 

You pranced around the stage wildly, getting closer and grabbing a few different angles. It also gave you a chance to hop onto the audience speakers for an even closer look. 

Positive. 

You wrapped it up, jumping back onto the stage, and rushing to the band mic. You looked to Sam intently, grabbing his attention as quickly as you could. You pressed your lips to the mic, and spoke as clearly as you could. 

“Hey, listen to me….11 o'clock, about ten rows back. Red hat, white shirt. Please tell me I’m wrong.” You held eye contact with Sam, and he nodded in understanding. 

Danny glanced at you, and mouthed “I can’t see that far.” You shrugged him off, motioning that you would explain later. 

Josh had been speaking to the crowd, and you were unsure whether or not he had paid attention to what you said. 

You began ‘Highway Tune’, and were determined to finish the show with a bang. About halfway through, you looked to Sam, who had a panicked look on his face. Shit, you must be right. You raised your eyebrows to him for confirmation, which he returned with a horrified nod. 

You wrapped up the show without a hitch, proud of the way you all had played. You took off in a sprint, looking for Y/N. You needed to see her face, but she was nowhere to be found. 

The rest of the guys ran up beside you, panting and out of breath, sticky with the sweat in the Texas heat. 

“What the hell was that about? Who did you see?” Danny asked, worry in his voice. 

You looked to Sam, your face down and fallen with dread. 

“It was Andy.”

—

Panic, dread, fear, the overwhelming need to find Y/N…all of it taking up your mind at once. You all pulled off your in-ears and disposed of your instruments with the techs as quickly as you could.  You were pacing around backstage, not bothering to talk to anyone or give anyone the time of day. You just needed to find her. Make sure she was safe. You looked behind you, all three of your brothers following you doing the same exact thing. My boys. 

“Hey, there she is!” Sam yelled from behind you, pointing over behind a trailer in the lot. The four of you rushed up to her, almost crashing into one another as you came to a stop. You inspected her, almost completely forgetting you couldn’t take her into a full embrace. 

“Hey! God, what the hell is wrong with you guys?” She asked, stunned by your sudden presence. 

“We uh, just couldn’t find you. We were wondering if you….wanted to go catch St. Vincent  with us...we need to leave now if you do.” You spat, thinking on your toes. 

She looked at you sideways. “You guys just stepped off stage...don’t you need to like…Go pee or something? Change clothes? Sit down?” 

You glanced back at the guys, just as sweaty as you, all still dressed in your stage clothes. 

“Yeah, yeah, we'll change really quick. But, meet us back here in 10?” Sam said. 

Her face grimaced up in confusion. “Uh, I have to close up with the crew…” she glanced at her phone checking the time. “I’ve got a lot to do still...before I can–”

“Don’t worry about it. Get what you need to do done, and meet us back here ASAP. We’ll wait for you to walk over.” Josh said, throwing you a knowing glance. 

“Alright, yeah okay...I’ll text Elle and meet you back here...” her face was wrought with confusion at your display. She walked away, radioing to someone about something. 

You took back off as a group, walking quickly and scanning the grounds. Your head felt hot and your eyes felt glassy. You finally made it to the trailer, and you were all quiet until you shut the door, the A/C feeling like it could knock you down. 

You immediately sat on the couch, putting your head in your hands. “What the fuck is he doing in Texas?!” You yelled, standing back up and beginning to undress. Sam had gone over to the mini fridge, and he pulled out a seltzer for everyone, popping the top on yours and handing it to you. You practically chugged its contents, not realizing how thirsty you were. 

“Man, chill out. Maybe he moved here. Just going to the festival…” Danny offered, trying to give the benefit of the doubt. 

“Yeah maybe. But remember how fucking insane he was…he was the last person I expected to see when I looked out there. Just really…strange...right?” You asked. 

The rest of them nodded in agreement. “Yeah, really fuckin’ strange.” Josh said, pulling off his clothing and hanging it on a hanger. “But, don’t stress out too bad. We’re all here, there’s thousands of people around…it’ll be okay. Just an anomaly.” 

You could always count on Josh to bring you back down to reality. He was right, it was probably just a huge coincidence. A wild one, but a coincidence nonetheless. But, Andy knew who you were, who the band was…why did he come to watch? And stand fairly close to the front near you, at that? 

You shook the thoughts from your head, trying to stay positive. Everyone continued to get changed and started downing drinks, pregaming for the rest of the shows tonight. 

“Hey, I don’t think we should tell Y/N he’s here. It would probably ruin her night, don’t you think Sam?” You shot Sam a look that screamed ‘please agree with me’.

“Yeah, I agree. We’ll never see him again, so. Let’s just let her have a good time.” Sam played along. 

“Jake, what the actual fuck were you on tonight? I’ve never seen you solo like that before…that was nuts, dude...I thought you’d never cue me to stop.” Danny said, plopping down on the couch. 

“Yeah no shit!” Sam said. “My feet were getting sore.”

You grinned, knowing all too well why you were playing better, but not able to speak on it quite yet. 

“Ahh, I dunno. Must be something in the air...” you offered. 

Josh approached you slowly and talking quietly, wearing his knowing face. “Hey, are you and Y/N okay? I know things were still really rocky last time we talked…” he had sarcasm dripping from his voice. 

“Uh, yeah actually. We’re okay. We talked a little bit without ripping each other’s head off, so…” you couldn’t say anything more right now, though you never kept any secrets at all from Josh, this one needed to be kept as long as possible. And you’d be lying if you said you weren’t kind of enjoying the idea of sneaking around. 

He looked at you again, squinting his eyes. 

“What?” You asked. 

“Hmmmm...nothing. But you’re a fuckin’ idiot if you think I don’t know when you’re lying. We do share the same brain cells, you know.” He said, walking back over to join Danny on the couch. 

You slipped on a more comfortable pair of shoes, and placed a flat-brimmed hat on your head. “Alright, let’s get going. We don’t want to miss the shows. I wonder if Duran Duran can still...Duran?” you said in a faux british accent.

Sam shoved your shoulder as you passed by him. “Ha ha, that was such a good one Jake.”

“I’m full of them. I’ll be here all night.” You flicked the brim of your hat, and tossed back the rest of your drink, crushing your can as you exited the door. A sharp pain flew up your arm when you dropped the can in the trash, an all too familiar feeling that hadn’t hurt this bad in years. 

——

Y/N had magically finished up what she needed to do in that short amount of time, and managed to find Elle, too. You all met at the corner of the lot, and walked over to backstage of the next show. The sun had set now, and you were finally starting to relax a little bit after seeing Andy earlier. He gave you an eerie feeling, almost one that creeped you out, for some reason. You felt confident that Danny and Josh were right, and he was just here for the festival. 

Y/N had changed into a short little green dress, that was low cut in the front and flowy, and sat right at her mid-thigh. You knew she had chosen that exact dress to tease you, and she watched as your sunglass-covered eyes traveled up and down her body, undressing her with each glance. You slowly shook your head back and forth, letting her know that she was indeed making you suffer. 

You all stayed side stage for the majority of the next two shows, and the night was going well. You kept your distance from Y/N, and watched from afar as she danced and drank with Elle. Occasionally, your glances would meet up, and you had to force yourself to tear your eyes away from her. 

You were feeling fairly tipsy, conversing with other musicians and people in the industry. Suddenly the delicious and familiar aroma of marijuana slid past your nose, and you followed it to its source. Josh and Sam, of course. You excused yourself from the conversation you were having, and went and joined them. 

The whole group shared what must have been three or four joints, as the last artist played into their late-night set. The haze in the air was heavy, and you felt the fuzz climb into your face and extremities. Ahh, there it is. 

Things began to move in slow motion under your hooded eyelids, the music sounding louder and better..everyone started to dance and move their bodies with the beat. Your eyes drifted to Y/N, you could tell she was feeling it too. 

“I gotta hit the head, you wanna go?” Sam shouted over the music in your ear. You nodded, noticing your full bladder. He took Elle’s hand and pulled her behind him as you followed them off the stage. 

“My god, I’m really fuckin high…” Elle giggled at herself as you made your way across the lot to the restrooms.

“Yeah same, I scored some good shit down here.” Sam laughed. “We’ll wait for you out here, babe.” He said as you separated. 

You and Sam stood next to each other, relieving yourselves in the urinals. 

“So, when did you and Y/N finally fuck?!” He asked, loudly as ever. 

“SAM! Goddamn, could you talk any louder? What is wrong with you? What are you talking about?” You spat at him from across the divider. 

“Duuuude, don’t play dumb.” You could recognize his stoned voice from a mile away. “Come on. Unfortunately, I know her body just as well as you do, now. Maybe even better…? I know what she acts like when she’s been…satisfied.” Your mouth hung open at his words. He did nothing but stare at you, raising his eyebrows up and down. 

You buttoned up your jeans, and walked over to the sink to wash your hands quickly, avoiding his question. You busted out the door, with him following close behind. You stood by the restroom entrance, waiting for Elle. 

“Jaaaake, don’t avoid my question. I’m not stupid, I can read her body language. And yours too, if we’re being honest. You guys are gravitating towards each other again.” His words had begun to slur slightly. “How long ago?”

You crossed your arms across your chest. “Chicago.” 

He bounced away, clapping his hands loudly. “Ha! I knew it!!” 

“Sam you can’t tell a fucking soul, do you hear me?” You got into his face, trying your best to threaten him like you did when you were kids. 

He held his hands up in submission. “I promise.” You turned away. 

Suddenly he was next to you again. “I will say though, she’s become a bit of a freak in the sheets, if ya know what I mean. You better start building up that stamina…” he said quietly. “You’re welcome.”

You couldn’t help but burst into laughter. It wasn’t funny, it shouldn’t be funny, but it was. The whole situation, sharing this conversation with your little brother. All of it was so fucked up. 

He started to laugh with you. You grabbed his shoulder, speaking through shared belly laughs. “So I’ve noticed, Sam. Appreciate that.” You shook your head at the awkward but hilarious conversation. 

Elle emerged from the bathroom finding the two of you in stitches. “What are you two laughing about?” She said as you started the walk back to the stage. 

“Oh nothing, just that him and Y/N finally slept together.” Sam said. 

“Sam, I swear to god.” You said. 

“OH MY GOD! You finally boinked?!” Elle said, a bit too loudly for your liking. “It’s about fucking time, Jake. What took you so long?!”    

“Jesus Christ…” you said under your breath. “Elle, love, you promise me right now you will not tell a soul, okay? Her job is really…on the line.” 

“I got it, Jake. She’s my best friend. I promise.” She zipped her lips and threw away the key, and you actually trusted that she would stay quiet. 

—

You made your way back to the stage, suddenly feeling uneasy. You glanced around at the crowd, just waiting to see a red hat bobbing its way around. You found Y/N, still dancing and having a good time as the band wrapped up its last song. 

“You guys want to come back to my room for one more smoke?” You asked the group, suddenly feeling the need to leave. Everyone nodded in agreement, as you started back down the steps. 

“You guys go ahead, I’m gonna go take some stage shots. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Summer said, waving your group off.

The hotel was only a few minutes drive from the venue, and Sam had insisted the driver stop at the nearest gas station so he could buy beer. You could tell everyone was still feeling exceptionally high, but it was a nice feeling. You felt a little more at ease the further away you got from the venue. 

Everyone gathered back in your room at the hotel, changed into comfortable clothes and toting cases of beer. You could afford to get cross faded tonight. Josh brought his speaker and asked Elle to hook up to the Bluetooth. Some Cajun-sounding flute music began to come through it, some gritty messy metallic sounds you thought sounded familiar. 

“Elle, what is this?” You asked her as you sat down to roll a few more joints. 

“Ry Cooder, he’s amazing.” She answered, pulling her lips from a bottle of Corona. 

“My god, yeah, did he play with Taj Mahal?” You asked. 

She shook her head. “Yep. I think they’re actually releasing an album together next year. So you’ve seen Southern Comfort, right?”

You grinned and nodded. “Yep. That must be why I know this.”

You could definitely see why Sam was attracted to her now. 

Y/N joined her on the bed, popping the top off her own beer. Your eyes met hers for just a second, but long enough to linger. She’d changed into a thin and silky dress, with a flannel on top. Oh my god.Your flannel. The one you gave her at the lake, the one she borrowed every time she came over when you were younger. She actually kept it. Your face must have fallen at the sight, because she gave you the slightest wink while she sipped her beer. 

Your hands suddenly became weak, the tiny ground pieces of weed falling from the sides of your half-rolled joint. 

“Jake, what’s taking so long over there?” Josh asked. 

“I’m rusty, you come fucking do it.” You answered. 

You opened the double-door window of the room and turned on the vent of the bathroom so the smoke could escape, and you rolled a towel and tucked it under the door. It felt like high school again. It was still warm outside, and the breeze came in through the curtains, bringing with it a peaceful and relaxed feeling. Everyone was feeling themselves, passing several joints and listening to Josh tell elaborate stories. 

Your bed was king sized and the room was larger than a standard room, so you found yourself feeling thankful you’d upgraded to a room large enough to accommodate everyone comfortably, completely by accident.

Everyone eventually gathered in a tight circle, seated on the bed. Y/N found her way over to you, sitting directly beside you. Shit, she was feeling it. And Danny and Josh didn’t completely know yet. At least, you thought they didn’t. Her hair brushed your shoulder, sending the smell of her directly to your nose. It was intoxicating having her that close, in that sexy dress, in your flannel…unable to touch her.

Danny had brought a deck of cards and a game of poker ensued. “We don’t have any chips, what could we use?” Elle asked. 

“Ooooh we could use the hotel shampoo bottles and bars of soap and these quarters in my pocket.” Josh answered, laughing at himself through a goofy stoned giggle. 

“Did someone say chips? I’m hungry…” Sam asked no one in particular. 

An hour or so passed of talking, laughing, drinking, and smoking. Your head was absolutely spinning at this point, and Y/N’s hand just happened to keep landing on your knee. She was letting loose. Sam glanced up at you from under his hooded lashes, looking at her hand, then back to you, his eyebrows raising again. You felt a flush find your face as you realized just how high you actually were. 

The room was full of smoke, a haze falling onto everything as everyone basked in their intoxication, and all you could feel anymore was a draw to her. She was like a hot magnet that you were being pulled to, unable to think about anything else other than having your way with her. 

“Jake, that flannel looks very familiar...” Josh said, motioning to Y/N. You sighed. You couldn’t handle it any longer. You were over hiding her. You were in love with her, and your best friends deserved to know it. If anyone in the world could keep your secret, it was the people in the room with you right now. 

“Well Josh, that’s because it’s mine. I gave it to her when we started dating when we were younger and I just…never asked for it back. I let her keep it.” You leaned back on your arms, feeling a sudden surge of confidence. He smiled at you, almost as if he was proud. 

“Y/N, why didn’t you ever give it back to him?” Josh pressed. 

The group went silent. She looked at Josh, somewhat surprised, but catching his drift. Then she brought her eyes to meet yours, deep and glassy and full of love. She placed her hand on your knee, lightly brushing her fingernails over it. 

“Well Josh, because I love it too much. It makes me feel good. I want to keep it forever, keep it safe and loved...” she answered him, never removing her eyes from yours. 

“And Jake, will you ever ask for it back?” Josh went on. 

You kept your eyes locked on hers, and grabbed her hand, intertwining your fingers with hers. 

“No, Josh. It’s hers now. She can keep it for the rest of our lives.” You answered, your voice low and steady. Her face bloomed into a smile that went from ear to ear. 

Josh chuckled as the group finally stirred. “Ha, well I guess it’s fucking settled then, isn’t it?” He said, reaching over and patting you between your shoulders, firmly holding your neck and shaking you side to side. 

“Well hell yeah!” Danny exclaimed, coming across the circle and bringing the two of you in between both of his arms, hugging you tightly. The next thing you knew you had all fallen into a giant pile, laughing and hugging and falling off the bed in fits of giggles. 

The relief that fell over you was immense…these were your best friends. The people you trusted the most in the world. The ones who would go to bat for you, and for Y/N, no matter what the circumstances. 

In the cloudy air of the room, you felt your inhibitions begin to fall away. You found her in the pile of laughing bodies, and met her eyes, knowing that in that moment, you didn’t care who in the world knew it. You grabbed her face, and pulled her into a long and loving kiss, eliciting cheers from the rest of the group. 

Her cheeks went flush when you pulled away, but she grabbed you back, pulling you in for one more. Sweet and passionate, but with something else hidden behind it. You knew that look from long ago, she didn’t want to wait much longer. 

Everyone began to sit back up and find their seats on the bed again. Keeping direct eye contact with her, and bringing your face close to hers, lips almost touching, you spoke. “Hey, it’s been fun, but do you think you guys could get the fuck out of here?” Your eyes were unabashedly flicking from her eyes to her lips, plush and pink and waiting for you. 

They all laughed in unison, and your ears went deaf to everything surrounding you. All you could see, all you could hear and feel, was her. Suddenly, you found yourselves alone, sitting on the bed, starving for one another. 

Like clockwork, she quickly crawled over and pushed her lips into yours, her hands furiously wrapping in your hair, pulling it and tangling it between her fingers. She stood up on her knees, and you brought your hands underneath her dress to cup her ass. Her tongue was immediately in your mouth, searching deeply for parts yet unexplored. You felt a deep hunger in your gut for her, something that felt like starvation that could never be satiated. 

You growled into her mouth as she bit your tongue, pulling it from your mouth and into hers. The wind picked up outside and blew across you, lifting her dress a little, revealing more of her body to your naked eye. 

She yanked on your hair at the back of your neck, pulling your head backwards to look her in the eyes. You scanned her eyes from left to right, reading a story that was only half-written. She smiled a devious smile, and connected your lips again. You squeezed her ass cheeks hard, pulling them apart and pulling her body into you. You separated yourself from her lips, and began kissing her throat, her neck, her collarbones, and in between her breasts. God, they were so beautiful. 

You picked her up by the waist, forcefully lying her down on the bed. You began to pull up on her dress, successfully removing it over her head.

“You thought you could wear this dress, and MY clothing, in front of everyone, and expect me to not want to fuck you right here? Torture isn’t nice, love.” you said, pulling her arms above her head and pinning them there, diving into her neck again. 

“No Jacob, torture isn’t for the meek.” She responded, making your eyes roll back in your head. Oh, so it’s gonna be this kind of game. Let’s see what Sammy was talking about…

The both of you were blazed out of your minds, your eyes heavy and red, not to mention the drinking you’d both been doing all night. You decided to let it work to your advantage, though, watching her as all your inhibitions went straight down the drain. Nothing felt off the table. 

You buried yourself in her hair, letting your tongue graze over her ear as you held her arms steady above her.  You had one knee beside her, and one knee between her legs, hovering above her as she dug her fingertips into your sides. “Jake…” she spoke. 

“Hmmm?” You breathed into her ear. 

“You have entirely too much clothing on.” she said. 

You pulled back, realizing she was correct. She was down to her lace bra and panty set, while you still had everything but your shoes on. You sat up and began to unbutton your shirt, keeping your eyes glued to hers. She reached up and grabbed your hands, stopping their movements. 

“Hang on a sec, let’s make this interesting.” she said. Her eyes were heavy and solid, thick with intoxication from the weed, and from you. With that, she unbuttoned the rest of your shirt, but left it hanging over your shoulders. Then she reached down to your belt, unbuckling it and undoing the zipper. 

“Let me help–” you said, reaching to pull your dark jeans off. 

“No, leave them on. Come to the edge of the bed.” She commanded, signaling with her finger for you to follow her as she rolled off the end and into the floor. 

She perched sitting on her knees, and you did what she told you, sitting with your feet on the floor right in front of her. She lurched forward, bringing her face between your legs. She rested her hands on your knees, pulling them apart a little bit to gain more access. She brought her mouth to your hardened length, dragging her tongue across the tip that was still covered by your boxers. 

The indirect contact and the warmth of her mouth felt like heaven. She began nipping at it with her teeth, causing you to inhale quickly. You brought your hands to her head, envisioning the last time she’d done this, not long ago on the floor of your study. 

She cupped her lips overtop of your head, blowing warm air into the fabric. Your brain was buzzing with intensity, but you needed more. You needed to feel her. Almost as if she heard your thoughts, she reached her fingertips into the hole of your boxers, and freeing you through them instead of pulling them down. That’s different. 

Suddenly her mouth was completely taking you into her throat to the hilt, your tip hitting the back of her throat as she immediately swallowed around you. 

“Motherfuck, Y/N…”  you hissed through your teeth. She’d taken you completely by surprise. She began bobbing her head, taking you as deeply as you could go, running her flattened tongue across all your sweet spots. She was starting to remember them. Her hands that were rested on your knees climbed up to squeeze your thighs, massaging them with her fingers. You tilted your head back in pleasure, letting your eyes fall closed. 

“Hmm-mm...” she hummed ‘no’ around you, causing you to peer back down to her. She took her pointer and middle fingers making the ‘two’ signal, pointing to first your eyes, then hers. Eyes on her. She wanted you to watch her. 

Good god. 

You kept your silent word, watching her every move intently as she glided her mouth around your now soaked dick, popping her lips around it every so often, and squeezing your base with her hand. You felt yourself beginning to unravel, watching her mouth on you was like seeing something you weren’t supposed to see…so sinful…but so enticing…

“Shit baby...your mouth…is fucking heavenly...”  

You grabbed her hair in your hand, remembering what she had said last time. ‘I want it…’ 

She nodded her head, again giving you the go-ahead to control her movements. You felt the knot in your stomach begin to tighten, feeling yourself near release. You tightened your grip on her locks, using a little extra force now as you pushed into her mouth, in and out with a bit more speed. 

“Baby, I’m close…you’re almost…” the knot in your stomach began to unfurl, as the buildup approached. Just then, she removed herself completely, standing up and towering over you. She wiped her mouth clean with the back of her hand as you felt lost without the contact, so close to your release. 

“Ok, you can take your shirt off now.” She said, a devilish smile crossing her face. 

You were basically panting with desire. “Wha–what?”

“You didn’t cum. Good job. You can take your shirt off now.” She said, not giving you much explanation, but feeding you enough information that you could see where this might be going. 

You looked at her sideways, and slowly removed your shirt, tossing it into the floor. You leaned back on your elbows, eyeing her half-naked body standing before you. What next? You felt like you could jump out of your skin with excitement, the fog still heavy in your head. 

“Up the bed…” she commanded again, motioning to the headboard. You did as she asked, your lower half still clothed with your dick still poking through the open hole of your boxers. She crawled on top of you, snaking her way up to meet your mouth with hers, laying wet and searing hot kisses to your lips. 

She pulled away, turning herself around backwards and straddling you, her hands steadying herself on your thighs. She turned her head around to make eye contact with you, your eyes open wide with surprise. 

She slowly shook her hips from side to side. 

“Pull them to the side.” She said, demand thick in her voice. Yes ma’am. 

You exhaled loudly, feeling a rush of blood to your face, and then straight to your already overly excited member. You did as she asked once more, hooking your finger in her lace thong, pulling it to the side. She arched her back so that her opening was pointed toward your face, and you felt your head plummet to her, your tongue immediately between her folds. Her mouth was on you again, as quickly as your tongue had found her. 69? Seriously, where did this woman come from?

You went to town, feeling like you were starving to touch her in any way you possibly could. You let your tongue do the talking, sliding it’s way up and down her slit, burying your face in her pussy. She tasted fucking phenomenal. You brought your hands to grasp the front of her thighs, trying to pull her toward you.

You felt her mouth bobbing at a sickening pace, not too fast, and not too slow. Her tongue was like silk, and it kept the saliva pooling inside her mouth while she flicked your tip, causing you to buck your hips into her. 

“You can grind into my mouth, baby.” She purred, running her closed fist up and down you while she spoke. You took that as an invitation to slowly rock your hips up and down, slowly making circles and fucking into her face. 

“So can you.” You responded. You felt her hips begin to gyrate slowly, positioning her sweet spot exactly where she needed it. You found her clit, and tightened your tongue muscle so that it pointed directly onto it. You quickly bobbed it in and out of your mouth before you pulled it all the way in, and began flicking it with your tongue again. 

“Fuckkkk yes Jake. Oh my god…” her whimpers spurred you on, and apparently her too, as she then took you extremely deep again, tightening all of her mouth and throat around you. You felt yourself nearing release again. Her fist was working you, bringing you closer and closer to the white hot heat. 

She pulled off again, turning herself around to face you. You let your head fall back against the pillows, a sheen of sweat beginning to cover your face. 

“Damnit baby, you are killing me.” You laughed into the room, bringing your hands through your hair. “What’s with the punishment?”

“Not punishment, baby. Are you enjoying yourself?” She asked, slithering her way back up between your legs. 

You shook your head maybe a little too fast. 

“Yeah, yes. I’m enjoying myself.” You answered. 

“Okay then, it’s not punishment. You can take your pants off.” She said, a smirk forming on her face before she gave you a sweet peck on your still soaked lips. 

“Errrhhhh…finally.” You said, clipping your thumbs in your bottoms, pulling them both off in one swipe. You bounced back on the bed, bringing your arms around her and pulling her down into you. You allowed yourselves a few minutes to indulge in one another, kissing into each other furiously, finally feeling your naked body brushing and pressing up against hers. You suddenly felt like you were leaving her untouched, so you gripped her hips, pulling yourself down the bed underneath her. You hooked your fingers in her thong and pulled it down, signaling for her to bring her legs together so you could pull it down over her knees. She obliged, surprisingly. 

“My turn, love. Climb up. All fours.” You tapped the backs of her thighs, making her inch her way up the bed. She listened, positioning herself overtop of your ready and waiting mouth. You opened wide, smiling as you stuck your tongue out. She was looking down at you between her legs, and she let out the sweetest giggle. You gripped around her folded legs as she lowered herself down. 

“Mmmm...” you growled. “You think you can ride my face, baby?” 

She didn’t even have to answer, she’d already made contact with your mouth. She instantly started grinding and bouncing, her wetness covering your entire face. But god, you didn’t care. You wanted to drown in her. Taste her forever. It was something you’d never forgotten. And now it was something you were sure you couldn’t live without. 

You looked up at her body, reveling and rolling her hips in circles as your tongue danced inside her. She felt so warm, so delicious. You brought your hand to her mound, finding her clit with your thumb. You began swirling it, massaging it while you kept working inside her with your tongue. You were suffocating, fighting for air, but you couldn’t care less. You could do this all night. 

Her sounds were like music to your ears, filling up your mind with the dirtiest thoughts. You fought to bring her there, you wanted her to spill herself around you and into your mouth, but instead you decided to play her game.  

You reached up and unclasped her bra with one swift motion, pulling it down her arms and tossing it away. You lifted her off of you. 

“Get my flannel.” You said, pointing to where it lay on the floor. She glanced over to it, then back to you, obviously pissed you stopped the ride of her life. 

She reached over the side of the bed and picked it up, offering it to you. 

You removed yourself from underneath her, “Turn around.” She gave you another side eye, but did what she was told. 

You took the sleeves of your flannel, straightened them out, and gently pulled both of her hands behind her. You tied the sleeves of the flannel around her crossed wrists, leaving them a little bit of wiggle room. She peeked over her shoulder, making the most seductive eyes at you. You brought your mouth close to her ear, and grazed her cheek with your hand. “This ok, love?”

“You can tie it tighter, if you want.” she said. 

Fuck, that’s exactly what Sam was talking about. 

You laughed a low howl, pulling the sleeves a bit tighter, causing her back to arch. You noticed her body reacting, so you gripped the back of her hair, pushing her face down into the bed. You pressed your length up against her ass, and brought your face close to hers again. 

“You thought you could tease me all night, edge me…well, time’s up. I’m going to fuck you until you can’t see straight.” You weren’t sure where these words were coming from, it wasn’t your normal bedroom talk. But she seemed to be enjoying it a bit too much. 

“Just fucking do it, Jacob. Don’t make me wait any longer.” 

You felt your face get hot...you’d seen her a thousand different ways before, but never quite like this. This vulnerability mixed in with her confidence was making your high come back full force. Your mouth had gone dry now from the after effects of the weed, your vision feeling delayed and stippled. Your ears felt like they had cotton in them, and the dopamine was swirling through your body. You could tell she was still faded too; her movements weren’t quick and calculated, but instead slow and sultry. And you were fucking loving it. 

You noticed that the double door windows were still open, so you stood up to close them and the curtain. 

“Leave them open. I don’t mind.” She said, surprising you. 

“But someone might be able to see-“

“Let them watch.”

Holy. Fucking….

You dropped the act for long enough to truly press her. 

“Wait seriously Y/N?” You asked. “You don’t care?”

All she did was shake her head. “No. I really don’t care. Now please come back.”

You shrugged it off, leaving the doors standing wide open, the act you were about to perform on full display for anyone who might happen to see. 

You returned back to her, getting back in the headspace you needed to. Her hands were still tied behind her back, most of her face covered up by her hair. 

The wind was blowing around again, sending chills all over your body. It was cooling off outside. You took yourself in your palm, stroking a few times before making contact with her. You ran your tip up and down her slit, collecting all the wetness that you could. You grabbed onto the flannel, pulling it back toward you a little bit, eliciting a tiny moan to fall from her lips. 

“Tell me how bad you want me.” You spoke, leaning down toward her. You eased the very tip into her, not giving her too much too fast. 

“I want you so bad, Jake. I want all of you, need all of you. Please.” She murmured. 

You clicked your tongue. “Hm. I can’t really hear you, love. I said tell me how badly you want me...” you pulled back again on her wrists, still teasing at her entrance. 

“Damn it, baby. I said I need you to fuck me, please! I want to feel all of you inside me, don’t hold anything back...” she raised her voice just slightly. 

With that, you felt your cock twitch, and you released her wrists, and grabbed a fistful of her hair, pulling it as you finally entered her, pushing all the way in until you couldn’t go any further. 

Pure. Fucking. Bliss. 

She cried out with pleasure as you began to pull back out, watching yourself leave her, practically dripping. 

Expletives left both of your lips at the sensation, you felt like you completely forgot how to speak. Nothing in this world, not a single thing you love could ever compare to how you feel for her, how she feels around you.

You began to work at a steady pace, pulling in and out of her, basking in the feeling of finally having her again. And how amazing she felt like this. You grabbed her hips, and she stepped her knees apart a bit, allowing her back to arch more for you. Her torso was at an almost 90° angle; you wished you could see this from a side view. 

“Did he fuck you like this? Huh? Tell me, did he fuck you this good?” You asked, wanting to ignite something in her that in all reality, you didn’t care about one way or the other. 

“Mmmm sometimes… yeah he did...” she cooed.

“Hmmm, well. I’m going to fuck every single memory of his body off of you, whether you like it or not.”

“Let’s see it, Jake. Prove it. Prove to me you’re better...” 

Her face was buried in the sheets, her expression fucked out and contorted as you pounded into her hard. You slowed your pace, making her cry out again. If you weren’t mistaken, you were sure she had tears in her eyes. The good kind. 

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful, Y/N. Tell me you’re never gonna leave me. You’ll never go anywhere ever again…” you were panting, trying to keep up with yourself as your body wanted to fly harder and faster into her. 

“I’ll never leave you, Jake. I promise. I love you so fuckin’ much…please don’t stop…” she whimpered.

You continued your assault on her, not letting up except to snake your hand around her front, finding her sweet spot again with your fingers. It made her cry out, you could tell she was getting close. 

You grabbed the knot of the flannel, untying it quickly, letting her hands fall back to her sides. She lifted herself up and looked back at you as you pulled out, also dissatisfied with the loss of contact. 

“What the fuckkkk Jake...” She half laughed. 

“Go get in the shower. Make it hot.” You demanded, walking over to the mini fridge and pulling out a few little bottles of tequila. The feeling of being intoxicated while fucking her was a high you wanted to keep chasing...neither of you had any guard up, and no holds were being barred. Would it be a rare occasion? Maybe. But you were determined to finish it with a bang. 

A wild smile came to her face, her hair was an absolute mess, her lips were swollen and her cheeks were pink. Beautiful, always so beautiful. And the way she looked at you? Made your stomach fall directly through the floor. Like you were the only human left on earth, and she wanted to own every single bit of you. 

She scampered off to the bathroom, and you heard the water turn on full blast. You reached for the two plastic cups wrapped up in the ice bucket, pouring the tequila into them. You grabbed a tiny can of soda water, adding just enough to add bubbles to the shots. You stuck your pointer finger into them, giving them a tiny stir. You brought your finger inside your mouth and sucked away the excess, following her into the bathroom. 

HER POV 

The bathroom mirror and glass walls were already steaming up within the 30 or so seconds you’d been in the shower. You turned on just a bit of cold water to offset, and stepped under the water. You let it flow over you, closing your eyes as it cascaded down over your face and hair. You stood, waiting for what felt like ages, waiting to feel him again. Where the hell was he? You were still dripping with desire, and you didn’t want it to rinse off…

You heard the door open, and watched through the fogged glass as he entered the room carrying two cups. You opened the glass door for him, steam rolling out as you did so. He smiled, handing you the cup. “Didn’t want to go get ice. Didn’t think you’d care...” he spoke, his voice still sleepy and laced with his high. 

“You know I don’t mind, baby. Thank you.” You smiled and took the cup. He held his cup up to yours, clinking them together, before you both shot back the liquid. “We’re gonna be so hungover tomorrow…” you laughed. 

He laughed in agreement, and walked over and stood under the oversized shower head, letting the hot beads soak his hair and body. Why was everything he did so fucking attractive? 

Once he was sufficiently rinsed, he brought his hands back over to you, bringing your back to the wall. “Mmm, where were we?” His mouth found yours in an instant, picking up right where you’d left off. Except this time, your hands were free to touch him, grab him, squeeze him and stroke him, all the things that made him feel good. You wanted to make him feel good. 

The hot shower poured over you, making each touch of his hands feel like electricity. His hand found itself between your legs again, his fingers knowing exactly where to go. Knowing your body so well…

“Ahhh, still wet for me, are you baby? You ready for me to fuck you again?” He growled into your neck. “It sure feels like it...”

You could do nothing but nod as he slipped two fingers into you, pumping them slowly. 

“Ahhh, shit baby...” you breathed, biting into his shoulder. “I need you so bad...”

He hummed low, working his fingers in and out and shaking them lightly as he entered, giving you a whole new rush of pleasure. 

You suddenly got an unwelcome flashback of just a few short weeks ago, you and Sam in another shower in another hotel, tangled up with your leg hitched over his hip and your tongue in his mouth. 

You bent in half as he teased you with his dick…smacking you across the ass when you didn’t listen…

You shook the thought from your head, hoping that that wouldn’t become a normal occurrence. They did feel…very similar. 

Thankfully Jake was able to pull you back to reality, his eyes looking deeply into yours, beckoning you back to him with his unwavering and unfaltering passion for you. 

He sat down on the small bench in the shower, and patted his lap. “Come here.” 

You waltzed over, wiping the water from your eyes, and placing your knees on either side of him. You wrapped your arms around his neck and positioned yourself above him, sliding yourself down onto him. 

The ride was hot, steamy, sweaty and cloudy. You were still incredibly stoned, your vision still blurry, your movements delayed. The tequila hit you both at the same time…your eyes struggled to stay open to even look at each other…you rode him slowly, feeling every single centimeter of him as you pulled yourself up and down, tightening your muscles as you went.  

He massaged your ass, kissed your shoulders, held your hair as your hips bucked and rolled. You were certain you’d never ever felt this much ecstasy before in your life, whether it be from the smoke or the drink, you didn’t know. You didn’t care. It was mostly him…he was intoxicating all on his own…breathing your name over and over through the water dripping from his lips, his brow turning down into a frown as he looked down and watched himself enter and leave you...your tits bouncing as you fucked him slowly, intently, with as much love as you could muster…

…you felt it growing again, deep inside you, a blazing fire that you’d been chasing after all night. You began to whine a bit, rolling your head on your shoulders in circles as you concentrated on fulfilling your goal. 

“Huh-uh baby, eyes on me, remember?” He said, the steam rolling in front of his face. You were sure you were going to combust at any moment, and the eye contact only made it worse. 

“I’m right there too…just keep riding me...just like that baby…god, fuck you feel so amazing…”

His face contorted into the most beautiful look of pleasure as he lost eye contact, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he cried out. His body convulsing, his arms shaking, his hands grasping and pulling your hair as he came into you, hot and slow, your name spilling from his lips until he had exhausted all the breath in his lungs…

…you weren’t far behind...your release came in the same way, a buildup of intensity, starting low and quiet and exploding into a million tiny white lights passing behind your eyes as your muscles contracted around him…you held on to him for dear life…gripping his shoulders and hair until you both found yourselves panting, coming down from the most tantric and beautiful scene your young bodies had yet to endure. 

He was it. He was everything. Perfection in a person. Nothing else, no one else would ever compare. You knew in your heart that you’d fight for him for the rest of your life, no matter what the consequences might be. 

SAM POV

Your eyes felt bone dry as you tried to pry them open, the cold air blowing from the air conditioner drying them out even further. You were warm under the sheets, not wanting to move just yet, as you noticed Elle sprawled across you. Her curls were splayed around her head in a perfect halo, and you couldn't help but stare. 

Blinking a few times, the dryness started to fade away, giving way to the massive hangover you were sporting. You rolled to your side and grabbed your phone, flipping through your notifications and swiping them away. Your mouth was dry and all you could think about was how perfect a scalding hot coffee would feel slipping over your tongue. 

Dragging yourself from the warmth of the sheets, you stood up, and pulled your messy hair into a bun at the back of your neck. You quietly walked over to your suitcase and pulled out a pair of shorts and a shirt, pulling them on as you looked for your wallet.

Finding it in your pants from last night, you slid it into your fanny pack, and slipped on your birkenstocks. You set your phone to vibrate and dropped it into your pocket as you grabbed the room key and slipped out the door. 

You took the elevator down a few floors to the lobby, milling around watching as festival goers checked out to return home. You made your way to the little cafe, and ordered two coffees, one black and one with room. You paid for the two cups and made your way over to the small table that held the cream and sugar, pouring in just the right amount of both, just how you knew she liked it. You smiled to yourself as you did it, thinking back on the days you spent wishing you could do just this.

As you stirred the coffee, it turned a caramel color and you knew you got it right. You placed lids on the two steaming cups and started back towards the elevators. Walking past the front desk you smiled and said hello to a few people who recognized you, none of them wanting to take up too much of your time. But as you stepped closer to the elevator, the doors opened, and people filed out. 

Someone caught your eye, however, sporting the same red baseball hat as the day prior. You turned to look at him, to really make sure it was him, and as his eyes met yours you knew you had your confirmation. You would know that face anywhere.

Mother fucker.

He quickly walked away from you as you stepped into the elevator, watching as he made his way into the lobby and disappearing out of sight. Your heart was racing at his proximity to Y/N. Why was he here? Did he know she was here?

Your hands were shaking as you stepped out on your floor, feeling like you had to watch over your shoulder as you walked to your room. Stacking the coffees you tapped your key card to the door, and entered the room quietly. Elle was thankfully still sleeping, so you placed the coffees on the desk, and kicked your shoes to the side of the bed. You grabbed your phone and sat on the couch, trying to figure out what to do. With shaky hands you opened your texts, found the brothers group chat and began to type.

You

9:08am: 911

9:09am: He’s in the hotel. 

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Taglist:

@gretavansara@jordie-gvf-admin@starshine-wagner @eyelinerjake@gretavanfvckface@gretavanmoon@misshunnybeebee@fretaganvleet@gvfpal@joshkiszkas@ascendingtostardust@raviolilegs@sammysprincess@gvfpal@objectsinspvce@lallisonl@gvfpal@raviolilegs@jaketlover@ascendingtostardust @indigostreakmorgan@jakemarrymeibeg@fakeplastiqtree@radmads-gvf @fwzco @katelynn-gvf @writingcold @jakesgrapejuice @jakekiszkasbabymama @emsfallingsky @gretavanbear @ejoygvf @beebloopbleep @mackalah @weneedsomehealing123 @reesetrippingthelight @lightmylove-gvf @wetkleenex-gvf@fulltimecynical @little-bit-of-monica@ageofbajabule @ageofsinners@indigostreakslut @profitofthedune @katelynn-gvf @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @joshskittytickler21 @mp0801@starcatcherry @samsbirks

[sammy8d257]

Did you know that in a recent video Alan made with DJ he confirmed that TSC, Green, Yellow, Red and Blue are around the ages of 10 to 12 years old. He also said that they are just really smart children. I really like that they just young kids, makes their mannerisms and child like behavior make more sense.

Hmmm... okay, I want to preface with saying that I'm happy you find joy in headcanoning the Color Gang to be 10 to 12 year olds. I'm glad you like thinking they're kids.

BUT

I've seen a lot of people use that clip of Alan saying they're 10 to 12 year old kids as canon. And like, frankly, I don't see how it can be.

(Goddamn, this is long as hell. Click on the "Keep Reading" if you want to see my entire rant but

TLDR;

It's fine if you see the Color Gang as kids in the range of 10 - 12, more power to you, but I don't see it as canon because it doesn't make sense to me and I personally can't relate to them. So I see them as young adults. )

First off, I honestly don't trust anything Alan has to say when it comes to what is or is not canon to the videos because Alan has said via his Members discord that there isn't any concrete "lore" for the characters and the world aside from a paragraph of personality traits for the Color Gang. While I myself, am not in the Discord, I have a friend who sometimes talks about stuff in there with me. A lot of the things story and lore things he and the team make up as they go. He will just say stuff without really considering previously establish canon.

(Trust me, I know. I've spent so much brainpower trying to connect the stick figure world together in a cohesive manner, its not even funny anymore aldkglsjsgs /lh)

No knock to Alan and his Team though. I understand that AvA/M is an on-going series with SO MANY videos to keep track of. It'd be hard to keep everything inline with lore if you don't have a dedicated keeper of it. But that's the reason why I take anything Alan says outside of the animations themselves, with a grain of salt.

SECONDLY,

Let's break down this "canon" scene shall we?

Actually, lets start a little bit before the scene, so everyone can get some context:

( https://youtu.be/Oz5mDcDK9I4?t=4668 )

The scene is Purple going off with King, to which DJ says:

DJ, voicing over King: Come on son, let's go

DJ, voicing over Purple: Bye guys! I'm gonna go hangout with my adopted dad. I'm 32.

[Alan and DJ laugh]

Alan: Maybe he is.

DJ: That'd be so weird if you find out all the characters are like in their 30s. [more laughs]

Alan: Yeah even though the internet hasn't been around that long.

DJ: Yeah, that's true. How old are they, like since their creation, I guess?

Alan: Huh, good question. ... 14?

DJ: 15? No...

Alan: Probably like 10, 12, 13,

DJ: Yeah, yeah. Which is cool because I feel like they act around then

[Alan laughs]

Alan: Yeah, they're just very smart children.

[END SCENE]

Just reading this, it looks like Alan confirmed that they're 10-13 year olds right?

Yeah if you ONLY look at this and not take into account the joking and non-serious tone both Alan and DJ had throughout this entire conversation. They like joking around and saying things. That's kinda their whole thing during their reacts. Alan is a more dead-pan but he was definitely making a lighthearted joke or comment playing off of the statement of them being 10.

Actually, lets go look at the question leading up to this.

"How old are they, like since their CREATION, I guess?"

Since their creation. AvA 4 is the video where Second and RYGB were first introduced and can serve as their creation date (assuming we're not taking about lore because while AvA 4 is Second's creation date, I'd argue the Stick Fighters were created prior and would in fact be older). AvA 4 premiered in 2014

Which is almost 10 years ago.

There is a high likelihood that both Alan and DJ were using the upload date of AvA 4 as the Color Gang's "creation date".

And if you want to headcanon a stick figure's age is how many years since their creation date, then more power to you.

To me that makes no sense because then that'd mean King is 2 years old. (AvM Parkour released April, 2021) Which is insane. alskdjglsjglsgd

I much prefer the idea that stick figures are created with an age in mind (baring the born stick figures like Purple).

And yeah, maybe Alan "intended" to make the Color Gang 10-13 year olds, but as I stated above, with how joking Alan and DJ were while discussing it plus Alan's whole thing about making things up as they go, I don't really believe it.

ALSO

Not to get too personal, but I just want to address something that's been bothering me with this whole thing.

The idea that because the Color Gang act childish = being children.

Because the sticks are heavily neurodivergent-coded

And as someone who is also neurodivergent, can act childish, see aspects of themself in these sticks, and is an ADULT.

Saying that people who act like this are children??

FUCKING SUCKS

Now I know, DJ, Alan, and probably even yourself Anon, don't mean any harm when you say the sticks act like children so they must be children.

But there is a LONG history of neurodivergent people getting infantilized because they display more "childish" behaviors like stimming or hyperfixating on specific topics.

So for at least me, someone who headcanons the Stick Figures as young adults, this who "age discourse" feels icky to me.

Plus, I personally can't relate to kids because I myself, am an adult. It's easier for me to relate to characters around my age range.

Listen, this rant is getting too long but here's the long and the short of it

There is nothing wrong with headcanoning the sticks as kids if that's what you want to believe that it's canon,

But it just ain't for me.

[daresplaining]

An Interview with Christine Hanefalk

Christine Hanefalk created her blog, The Other Murdock Papers, in 2007 as a place to discuss and share her interest in Matt Murdock and his world. Over the years, she has become one of the most compelling and influential voices within the Daredevil fan community, even making a cameo appearance in the comic itself in Daredevil volume 3 #31. In 2022 she published Being Matt Murdock, a passion project centered around an area of particular fascination: Matt's legendary hypersenses. The book weaves real-world science into the vast Daredevil canon to explore the notion that Daredevil's powers, though superhuman, are not – and do not need to be – as divorced from reality as one might think.

Christine was kind enough to answer my questions about the book, and about her nearly twenty-year-long fascination with the Man Without Fear. Read the interview below...

Daresplaining: I know many people will be familiar with your blog and your longtime interest in Matt Murdock's sensory world, but could you say a little about how Being Matt Murdock first came about, and how you approached writing and researching it?

Christine Hanefalk: I started The Other Murdock Papers in late 2007 and gradually allowed myself to start writing more about the scientific and sensory aspects of Daredevil as time went on. I was really worried it might turn people off, but the opposite was true and people really seemed to dig my deep dives. And so as far back as around 2012 I decided that, one of these days, I was going to try to write a whole book on the subject. 

Despite the fact that it took me ten years to complete it, with most of the work being concentrated to the final 12-18 months before publication, I had actually done some writing early-on. I think I had about half of chapters one (on the literary history) and seven (on the sense of smell) written several years ago, along with various snippets and notes that I had filed away and was able to work into some of the other chapters. I had also consistently been keeping an eye out for anything new and interesting in the peer reviewed academic literature, and managed to amass – and read through – quite a collection of books on sensory neuroscience over the years.

When that “now or never” moment finally arrived, it lined up well with a period of time in my life where I was able to cut back on regular work and devote most of my time and energy to the book. I went over all of the stuff I’d already looked at before but with more focus, and got myself reacquainted with subjects I hadn’t really touched since college, such as thermodynamics. I also reread nearly all of the comics, taking very detailed notes on how and when Daredevil used his senses to get a better idea of the overall pattern. It’s not an understatement to say that I’ve spent upwards of 2,000 hours on this project over the years.

D: I understand that you were introduced to Daredevil through the 2003 movie. What drew you so strongly to Matt as a character? How much of a role has your fascination with his powers played in your continuing interest over the years?

CH: I grew up reading comics and enjoying sci-fi and superhero movies as a kid. I was born in 1977, so both the original Star Wars trilogy and the Superman franchise loomed large in my life when I got old enough to watch them. And while I eventually stopped reading superhero comics, I always had a special place in my heart for the genre and had a certain fascination with the general idea of superheroes. That eventually steered me in the direction of the Daredevil movie when it was released in video stores (I don’t think it even went up in theaters in my native Sweden). 

The specifics of Matt Murdock’s power set was definitely one thing that gave this character an unusual kind of appeal to me. I had always been interested in the science of the senses – and what happens when one is missing – and had even written a paper on sensory compensation for my neuroscience class while I was an exchange student at the University of Rochester around the turn of the millennium. 

There were additional things that made Daredevil interesting of course, such as his career as a lawyer, his overall personality, and the general mood of the world he inhabited, but the combination of his power set and my already having a soft spot for superheroes definitely piqued my interest right away. Within a few months of learning that Daredevil even existed, I had read pretty much everything he had ever appeared in.

D: Do you have a favorite sense, both in terms of your own research and as a Daredevil fan?

CH: I think I probably enjoyed researching hearing the most since there’s so much to cover. It’s also fascinating to me how hearing can be called on to perform spatial functions despite having this deceptively simple, linear, time-dependent form in terms of how it is received by the ear. The fact that it’s possible, even for quite ordinary humans, to sort of “see-hear” silent objects is fascinating to me.

However, if we look at Daredevil, I’d say that hearing has tended to be overused compared to both smell and touch. While hearing is often called on to perform near transcendental duties, smell tends to be forgotten by a lot of writers, probably in large part due to the fact that we humans seem to be less conscious of smells than we are of other sensory input. For the entire history of the comic, Daredevil has often gone several issues without any reference to smell, and the things he’s been smelling have often tended to not be very interesting. It’s always a treat to see smell being used in creative ways.

Still, the sense I would be even more interested in seeing more of in Daredevil is probably touch, which I also think is used less than it could be. Sure, there’s plenty of reading by touch (print or braille), but I still think we might be underestimating the importance of touch in Matt’s life, due in part to the high expectations of the radar sense (whatever we make of it). I view the “radar” as absolutely vital to everything Matt does as Daredevil, but I also see a much greater potential role for touch to work synergistically with such an ability.

D: Do you have a favorite new fact that you learned over the course of researching this book?

CH: Yes. I do think my coming across Jacob Twersky’s writing helped solidify the idea I had about how the concept of the radar sense may have originated. Blinded in childhood, Twersky would go on to become a champion collegiate wrestler, and later a historian and author. I read both his 1954 novel The Face of the Deep and his 1959 autobiography The Sound of the Walls while working on my own book. The way Twersky describes his sense of the obstacles around him in The Sound of the Walls struck me as shockingly similar to early descriptions of Daredevil’s radar sense, including the use of the term “radar” itself. 

While I can’t know for sure whether anyone at Marvel was familiar with Twersky’s writing, it’s worth noting that he was a New Yorker and a contemporary of Stan Lee and many of the others in the Marvel bullpen back in the day. Whatever the case may be, it’s clear that the Marvel creators were not the first to use the word “radar” to describe the “obstacle sense of the blind,” as it was often known at the time. Over the years, and especially after having studied the early issues in great detail, I’ve definitely come to favor the idea that the “radar sense” wasn’t meant to be understood as a literal (electromagnetic) radar, though I should add that the understanding of the radar seems to have been all over the place for most of Daredevil history. Reading Twersky definitely added considerable weight to my interpretation of the early radar sense.

I also had some favorite epiphanies connected to the radar sense, one in particular which I think explains why Daredevil’s very particular way of being blind is often so difficult to make sense of for writers and fans alike. I recently wrote a rather lengthy post covering much of that stuff.

D: While taking a renewed deep dive into the source material, did you find yourself changing your opinion on anything?

CH: I should preface this by saying that there are definitely things I’ve changed my mind about over the years, even before I started most of the work on the book. I mentioned above that my understanding of the radar sense has shifted gradually, away from the more literal take the name suggests. Looking at the comics very carefully gives you even more of a sense that pinning down anything concrete here is going to be really difficult.

Revisting the comics has also given me a new appreciation for certain runs, such as the pre-Miller Bronze Age issues. This process has also led me to reassess my earlier assumptions that Daredevil’s senses have gone through some kind of steady evolution from Silver Age goofy to modern and grounded. This really isn’t the case, especially when you exclude some of the early outliers. You can find plenty of examples of both nonsensical and absolutely brilliant “senses writing” throughout the history of the comic, but I wouldn’t say that the treatment of the senses, or Matt’s blindness, have necessarily become more grounded on average.

D: You go into great detail about how much of Matt's sensory world has not been explored yet on the page. Is there any particular, specific experience that you would love to see depicted in future runs or adaptations? 

CH: Contrary to what people might expect of me given my priors, I don’t necessarily think that there needs to be more stories about his senses, blindness and so on. However, I think these aspects of the character should be viewed as absolutely essential to how Daredevil is written, no matter what the particular storyline happens to be. I make a point in the book about how Daredevil is an amazingly interesting thought experiment, and I really believe that. So I’d really just wish for writers to be more comfortable running their scenes and stories through whatever their own version of this thought experiment happens to be and making sure that what’s on the page makes sense in light of that.

D: While researching other superpowered blind characters from the comics world and beyond, did you discover any new favorites? Can we expect a spin-off blog about Doctor Mid-Nite?

CH: Ha ha, no. It’s enough of a challenge keeping up with The Other Murdock Papers these days. As regular readers have undoubtedly noticed, I’ve been considerably less active there in recent years, having to do with work on the book as well as other real life stuff that’s competing for my time and attention. I do expect it to live on for many more years though, and I do update every once in a while. I’m definitely looking forward to writing about Daredevil: Born Again when that comes out, and we also have Echo coming out in early 2024.

D: What is your biggest Daredevil sensory pet peeve?

CH: To be honest, what bothers me more than all of the silly things put together is the suggestion that Daredevil can “see better than all of us,” is “not really blind,” and so on. As much as this might sound like the whole point of the character, it also takes much of the complexity out of what Daredevil does and how he does it. As blanket statements go, it just doesn’t hold up to scrutiny, unless we radically redefine what sight is, and what the other senses – even when heightened – actually do. 

D: I love the scene in volume 3 #26 when Matt evades Ikari by changing his heart rate, even though logic would suggest that Ikari could still track him using his other senses, or even just other sounds. Do you have any favorite DD moments where you let sensory weirdnesses slide just because the scene is so compelling? 

CH: While it’s a whole issue rather than a single scene, I really enjoyed what Mark Waid and Chris Samnee were attempting to do with the story that sees Matt attempt to escape Latveria while losing all of his senses. The scene I’m choosing to let slide here is when Matt seems to develop some kind of heat vision (it’s frankly unclear what it’s supposed to be) as his body tries to compensate. Whenever you see hints of thermal imaging in Daredevil, that’s an indication that he’s doing something that’s much further removed from how his senses should work than most people realize. It’s not something that follows naturally from heightened senses and is more like an entirely different kind of superpower. 

I definitely tend to give a writer much more slack when 1) I'm enjoying the writing overall, and 2) said writer compensates to some degree by doing a good job of exploring, or at the very least remembering, that Matt is in fact blind.

D: What are your hopes for this book in regards to the impact it might have on how Daredevil is written in the future? What are the key takeaways that you hope fans and/or potential future Daredevil creators pull from it? 

CH: If people reading this interview haven’t read Being Matt Murdock they may get the impression that it’s all a long list of “don’ts” or “can’ts,” but that’s a far cry from what I’ve attempted to do. I remember reading another superhero science book a few years ago that seemed to have as its central premise that “superpowers are stupid,” which didn’t feel particularly gratifying. I don’t see it that way at all. Sure, there are certainly characters whose powers read more like magic than anything else, but I don’t necessarily mind that. We don’t have to hold every character to any kind of scientific standard, and there definitely comes a point when taking this too far just takes the fun out of it. 

When it comes to a character like Daredevil, however, I feel very strongly that bringing science into the picture has the potential to aid in the creative process rather than hinder it. Daredevil is relatively unusual in that he can exist comfortably in a kind of “reality next door.” His powers are not possible in our own universe, but they are not so far removed from our normal understanding of things that we can’t attempt to make sense of them and imagine what life would be like from his perspective. Because while no one has super hearing, most of us do have regular human hearing which detects the measurable and explainable phenomenon of sound. 

There are naturally things about Daredevil that not even loosening the reins of biology will address – for instance, even a science-minded writer is likely going to have to break some of the laws of the physics of sound – but understanding how these phenomena unfold in the real world helps create a good structure for how Daredevil might operate. And I feel like I’ve come pretty close to presenting a coherent “view” of the world from Daredevil’s perspective in this book.

It would definitely be a dream come true to have this book inspire future Daredevil writers, but I obviously don’t have much control over that kind of stuff. I’ve been able to give out plenty of copies to past writers and artists though, ha ha. I would want incoming writers to know that science is their friend. And that understanding some of the science makes Daredevil even more fascinating.

D: If you were given the opportunity to actually experience the world the way Matt does for a day, would you take it?

CH: Absolutely! Mind you, I probably wouldn’t want to do it for longer than a day or two and I very much appreciate my standard issue eyesight, but I think it would be fascinating to explore his world. Though in this thought experiment, I would assume that I could experience things the way he does after years of getting used to it so it’s not too much of a shock to the system. Unlike what happened in the delightfully ridiculous story where Daredevil switched bodies with Doctor Doom, and Doom appeared to adjust on the spot and couldn’t even figure out that he was now blind, I would expect it to take months or even years to learn to navigate the world the way Matt does (superhero acrobatics not included). And it’s not just about being able to integrate different amounts and kinds of sensory information. It’s also a matter of acquiring the strategies that allow for combining this sensory information with real-world knowledge in order to handle the many ambiguities which remain in a world organized around people with a more standard set of human senses.

D: Do you have any book/article/etc. recommendations for someone wanting to expand their reading on the topics explored in the book?

CH: Among the books I’ve read that I would recommend for general audiences is David Eagleman’s The Brain: The Story of You as a good introduction to the brain. If people want to progress from there I also recommend Brainscapes by Rebecca Schwarzlose. I don’t make any explicit references to Brainscapes in my book, but it’s a very solid read for anyone who wants to learn more about the role of “brain maps” in guiding our experiences. For the senses themselves, there’s The Universal Sense by Seth S. Horowitz (about hearing), and What the Nose Knows by Avery Gilbert.

Another book I read years ago that is sort of “on-topic” is A Sense of the World: How a Blind Man Became History’s Greatest Traveler by Jason Roberts. It’s not one I reference in my own book, but I guess it’s “Daredevil adjacent.” It tells the absolutely fascinating true story of James Holman (1786-1857).

D: Beyond Being Matt Murdock and your blog, is there anything else you would like to promote/mention here?

CH: Not for the time being. Maybe there’ll be a second edition of Being Matt Murdock one day, but I don’t have any such plans for the foreseeable future. What I would like to do is take the opportunity to encourage people to tackle their own passion projects. For me, finalizing this project came down to realizing that if I were to be told I only had a year to live, I would want to prioritize finishing this book. That’s how much it meant to me. And when you feel that way about something, try to do whatever you can – as much as your current circumstances will allow – to give yourself that gift. Tackling something like this can be very daunting, and I definitely had to get over my fears of making mistakes and putting myself out there in order to do this. But I’m really glad that I finally did.

For more fun facts and information on Being Matt Murdock, and to purchase your own copy, visit www.scienceofdaredevil.com

For more of Christine Hanefalk's writing, visit www.theothermurdockpapers.com

[grandisknight]

i like to play a fun game of ‘guess what banners and events are coming up’ (aka predictions and speculations) so feel free to hear me out and take everything with a grain of salt ₍ ᐢ.ˬ.ᐢ₎

+ date ranges for anything after zayne’s birthday are just placeholders ;; (unless i’m citing from actual banners/events)

+ will emphasize that these are just my opinions (✍️) ! purely for fun and if it’s not your cup of tea then that’s okay have a good day ٩( 'ω' )و

also infold pls do not smite me i’m just a girl with thoughts

okay so in an ideal world (mine) this is what’s cooking…

we have zayne’s birthday for a week (0831-0907)

his birthday is on 09/05 ; eternal attachment banner + birthday event

(✍️) and then for two weeks afterwards we could have a solo limited banner (either rafayel or sylus)

last time rafayel had a solo banner was his “private trip” card from 05/28-06/07

sylus was “no defense zone” from 07/15-08/01

however i wouldn’t be surprised if they end up doing a xavier solo banner / his last one was “faint sensation” from 04/19-29 so he’s long overdue… 😭 my blue eyed king comeback

in addition to the end of the month : first story branch that will go into last week of september into the first week of october (potentially 09/22-10/05)

based on july’s 2.0 livestream and follow-up SNS posts, the order has been implied to be zayne-rafayel-xavier (not confirmed) (just speculation)

(✍️) lowkey hoping we get to see zayne’s first

(✍️) i hope it’s similar to how they handled long awaited revelry’s debut in that we get a 10 day event to complete tasks and get resources 🫡

and THEN

(✍️) from like 10/11-18 xavier’s birthday banner and event runs for a week (his birthday is 10/16)

new birthday card, make a cake, the usual bday festivities shall commence

(✍️) following this, if story branches are released towards the ends of months, then the second story branch at the end of the month from 10/20-11/02 (rafayel?) and potentially third story branch from 11/24-12/07 (xavier?)

(✍️) rinse and repeat with solo limited banners and multis/precise wishes sprinkled in between and we’ll eventually find ourselves at the first anniversary ₍ ᐢ.ˬ.ᐢ₎ uwah…

(✍️) additional thoughts i have

halloween and christmas events/memories i think absolutely yes please feed us into the holiday spirit and give fun outfits/cards for the boys

i’d like to think that potentially sylus’ 2nd myths could come out this year just to be on par with the other boys, since ❄️⭐️🐠 are done for the year! though it would make more sense if it came out in like a future update alongside caleb… so they can both have myths…

fingers crossed that the next BP is zayne/xavier from september-november since we currently have rafayel/sylus as a duo (07/15-09/11)

sometime by the end of this year hopefully we’ll get to see zayne and sylus’ free 5* memories from heartfelt gift login campaigns!

who knows, they’ll probably sprinkle in another 10 days with you free 4* memory campaign again in there somewhere (gestures towards the current zayne ‘doomsday’ event)

fifth LI… come home soon… 🍎 (i personally believe there’s only going to be 5 main LIs)

(✍️) + in my opinion, an LI has to be relevant to the main story + mc’s story — ❄️⭐️🐠🐦‍⬛🍎 fit those qualifications from the get-go

+ ch1 alone introduced all of them: ⭐️ first mission, 🐠 at the fountain, ❄️ doctor’s appointment, 🍎 call/text, ���‍⬛ red eye foreshadowing

+ the specific focuses of the main story were as follows: ch4 🍎, ch5 ❄️, ch6 ⭐️, ch7 🐠, long-awaited revelry ch1-2 🐦‍⬛

therefore i can’t really fathom any new additions otherwise for an LI beyond those five (though, time will tell depending on the story development i guess) (i’m excited nonetheless)

thank yew for coming to my ted talk

[danelloevee-sky]

Hi, Here I am to ask

6 and 12 for the sillies (Ved and clement because they are the only ones I know)

SO, I also leave 5 and 11 for any skykid that you really feel like talking about and introducing to curious people like me

6. How does your skykid feel about the Elders?

Ved is a Herald, a people that were Megabird's first attempt at cleansing the corruption on the world and restoring the balance between Light and Darkness. In general Heralds didn't hate the Elders and Ancestors, but they didn't view the Elders positively and thought of them as rather foolish and/or selfish. The one who raised Ved had a kinder outlook on them, so Ved sees them as authority who made big mistakes and are paying the price for it. Not the most positive, but not entirely negative either. They don't really interact with any of the Elders aside from Tsadi on occasion and Lamed (since they lived and work in Vault). They were the ones who let Ved into the Vault where they stayed for thousands of years. Ved respects Lamed for looking after them and because they're their boss. Ved doesn't really go into the Prairie, Forest, and Valley Temples and has no desire to meet with their Elders. Out of all the Elders, Daleth is the one they feel most sorry for.

Clement has a light core but he is not a Child of Light. He is a Witch, created by the God of Earth. Witches are a neutral third party between Light and Darkness. He doesn't really have much of an opinion on the Elders, and respects them in the way a diplomat would respect the leaders of a different nation.

12. Skykid’s feelings on dark creatures?

Ved has seen a variety of Dark Creatures that live in their native Darklands when they were young, and thinks they are rather interesting and beautiful animals. The "Dark Dragons/Krill" in this story are deeply changed Light Creatures. Ved feels pity towards them but understands that they are dangerous and will not hesitate to harm one if needed.

Clement was born after the division of the lands and has only seen smaller more harmless Dark Creatures that stayed in the Lightlands or are brought into the Witches Forest. He secretly thinks the small ones are kind of cute. When it comes to eating them, he gets overly vigilant about making sure they're safe for consumption.

5. How does your skykid feel towards the ancestors? Do they have a favorite? A least favorite?

Mei is a historian and an archivist and thinks the Ancestors are very interesting. Despite being spirits, many of the Ancestors live and work alongside Skyborn. To her they're almost like literal living memories, but regular people at the same time? A lot of the Ancestors remaining memories and stories have already been recorded as much as possible by the time she started working at the Vault, but there are always some small overlooked discoveries every few years. Mei's focus is on the era of the Heralds and always tries to consult the Ancestors on her research as the Heralds are all gone (Ved's identity as one is a secret). Her favorite is Wise Grandparent, who always rambles but looks out for the archivists

11. Skykid’s feelings on light creatures?

Yara loves animals, especially Light Creatures. She first tried applying to jobs that involved them: manta trainer, messenger (works with birds), etc, but it ended up that they would always play too much for a work setting so in the end she became a Guide assigned to Prairie instead

Send asks!

[saiilorstars]

Ch. 38: What Goes on Behind Closed Doors

[Story Masterlist] // [Aitana’s Masterlist]

Fandom: Criminal Minds // Pairing: Spencer Reid x OFC

Taglist: @ocappreciationtag​ @arrthurpendragon​​​​​​​ @maaaaarveeeeel​​​ @stareyedplanet​​​​​​​ @averyhotchner​ @foxesandmagic @kmc1989 @midmourn @caplanbuckybarnes ​​​​​​

If you’d like to be a part of Aitana’s taglist, please let me know!

Also available on Fanfic ○ Ao3 ○ Wattpad

"I'm not trying to say I don't like her, but…" Aitana's whispers had both Penelope and JJ snickering behind her, "I feel like we would do a whole lot better if Strauss wasn't coming with us."

The three women stood in the bullpen huddled beside JJ's desk.

"Because you don't like her," Penelope patted Aitana's shoulder comfortingly.

"No!" Aitana flushed miserably. "I—"

"It's alright," JJ said, patting Aitana's other shoulder. "We all go through it."

"So when do I get past it?"

JJ's smile widened, giving the impression that there was no getting past it.

"Oh great," Aitana muttered. She trudged glumly towards the elevators, prompting the other two women to follow.

Strauss had helped deliver a new case for the BAU, a local one, that she was going to oversee herself. The cause involved a prestigious military school where she was good friends with the head. Somerville Military Academy was their destination in the sunny lands of Florida. The bodies of five boys were found hanging in the middle of a forest outside the school.

"There's still no sign of Josh Redding," Penelope informed the group on the jet. She was constantly vigilant on her laptop until they would land. As of now, Josh Redding was the only survivor of the mass suicide and yet was also their prime suspect.

"We'll join the search when we land," said Hotch, putting it as their top priority for the meantime.

"So, the Somerville Academy was founded during World War II?" said Morgan more as a question since it was one of the very few things the team knew about the school so far.

Penelope nodded her head from her seat. "It is hard-core old school. They don't even have a website. Socioeconomic breakdown's all over the map."

"Yeah, so are the ages," said JJ with a concerned face, "Students are 12 to 18 years old, on the same campus, in the same dorms." That, to her, was a huge mistake given the decent gap.

"Same personnel has worked there for a lifetime," Aitana added from her case file, albeit with a tone of reluctance. If the entire workforce at the school had been there for decades it meant there was a high chance of their loyalty being tied to the school and not the actual students.

"Ron Massey has been superintendent for 30 years," Strauss said, "He's an alum, as is the majority of the staff there. Lieutenant Tawes has been his second in command this whole time."

"These type of places have their own infrastructure. If it ain't broken, they ain't gonna fix it," Morgan said and saw Aitana agreeing with him.

"That's probably why they banned modern technology," Spencer concluded, "They didn't need it back then, they don't need it now."

Rossi had been reading more on the file and was startled towards the ends.. "Aggressive motto — "vivere est vincere."" He looked up at the others. "To live is to conquer. The school raises soldiers. Suicide is not part of that mantra."

"Bailey Shelton was only 13 years old. He was one of the youngest students there," remarked Spencer. If he was right, there were only a handful more students around that age in the entire school. "His death is probably the key to the others."

~ 0 ~

Despite the grim atmosphere of the school, the weather was perfectly sunny outside. Massey was already waiting for the team when they pulled up to the school.

Strauss was the first one out of the car and consequently the first to greet Massey. "Colonel Massey, Erin Strauss. This is the team I spoke with you about."

"Agent Hotchner," Hotch introduced himself and shook hands with the Colonel.

"This is Agent Morgan—" Strauss said, prompting the agent in question to shake hands with the Colonel, as well as the rest of the agents she introduced, "—Agent Jareau, Agent Serrano, Agent Prentiss, Agent Rossi, Dr. Spencer Reid, and Penelope Garcia." The last two only gave waves.

"So shouldn't the flag be at half-mast?" Morgan asked when he spotted the flag up high on its pole.

"I haven't told the boys yet," Massey said stiffly. The news shouldn't have been that much of a surprise.

"Do they know who we are?"

"I'll tell them when the time is right."

Loyalties, Aitana thought. It was all going to circle back to that.

"I've called all of the parents. They're driving from up and down the East Coast. In fact, Josh Redding's have just arrived," Massey said, gesturing to the couple across from them.

"We'd like to speak with them," JJ said, glancing at Aitana for confirmation they were on the same page. The brunette nodded.

"They're in the chapel," said Massey.

"And how are they?"

"As you'd expect."

"All right, we'll get started," Aitana announced, turning to JJ. At the same time, Massey called for a Cadet to guide them to the chapel.

The two agents followed the Cadet and were promptly left with Josh Redding's parents. The agents figured it was best to get straight to the point. The quicker they found Josh, the better.

"Why did you send Josh here?" Aitana asked cautiously. It was pretty common for troubled boys to be sent to military school and she was almost positive this was the case here too.

"Because he was getting into a lot of trouble," said Mrs. Redding.

There it is. Aitana merely nodded.

"And he was always angry and…"

"He was being a teenager," Mr. Redding interjected. Although he was just as upset as his wife, there was an undeniable accusation in his tone.

Mrs. Redding did take offense and snapped back at her husband. "You were gone, Will. All the time." She then looked at the slightly awkward agents. "He was nearly 6 feet tall by the time he was 14. With a bad temper, and he was punching holes in walls, and he wouldn't listen to me anymore."

"He could be belligerent," Mr. Redding only half agreed, "But this — this was extreme."

"Why?" asked JJ.

"We had to force him."

"I was afraid he was gonna hurt himself," Mrs. Redding said almost frantically. "Or someone else if we didn't get him some help."

"How was Josh taking Bailey's suicide?" JJ asked them.

"We only talked once after that," Mr. Redding replied, "Phone calls are a privilege here."

"Was that difficult for Josh?" Aitana went off on the fact that phones and texting were practically a teenager's life. The answer, however, didn't support that.

"Josh has never been much of a talker, but I think he felt a real responsibility for Bailey and the other boys in the hall."

"Did he ever tell you why Bailey may have killed himself?"

"No…"

Aitana and JJ sensed they were losing the parents once the tears started flowing in. They had the good sense to end the session there.

"So, what do you think?" JJ asked Aitana once they were alone. She was smiling strangely, something Aitana picked up on fast. "This is what you're training for, remember?"

Right. Aitana should have figured JJ would eventually start doing this. One year into college meant Aitana was one step closer to becoming the team's official liaison and with that it meant she would have to start conducting service hours.

"Truthfully," Aitana put her hands behind her back, her eyes falling over the rather dank chapel if anyone asked for her opinion, "It looks like the parents are against each other. Blaming each other for Josh ever being here."

JJ nodded in agreement. "I thought the same thing."

"Maybe that was also a driving factor for Josh's behavior here, whether or not he killed those boys."

"I concur. Let's see what the others got."

"Yeah." Aitana followed JJ out the chapel.

They regrouped with Penelope inside the library. The blonde already had most of her equipment set up and was merely waiting for company and instructions.

"That's going to fall on you," Aitana said when Penelope's fingers danced along some kind of device set up near the window.

"Shh!" Penelope waved her off, trying to focus on straightening the device. Aitana and JJ practically held their breaths trying to give Penelope the space she needed to keep working.

"Boo!" Someone exclaimed. Spencer grinned at the three women who had jumped at his call.

"Jeez, you scared us!" Penelope rubbed circles over her heart. "I thought you were a ghost!"

"You know, older buildings like this emit a low enough frequency that you can't consciously hear," Spencer started explaining on his stride in, "Because the sensory overload can't be explained, it wreaks havoc with your emotions, inducing fear, panic, and dread, hence the feeling of being haunted." He handed JJ a manila file which she then turned over to Aitana.

Penelope was entranced with the logical explanation. "What about the visions?"

"Your eyes overcompensate for what your ears are missing. That said, I do know a 3-year-old boy that once met a friendly apparition named Leverett Saltonstall."

"He was nice?"

"Very nice."

"So you don't think there's any ghosts or spirits?" Aitana cocked her head at Spencer. He shrugged; his expression was answer enough. "You're the biggest Halloween fan I know and yet you don't believe in spirits?"

"One thing is to celebrate Halloween and the other is to believe in the supernatural," Spencer said, trying to take the file back from Aitana.

She flicked the file against her chest, raising an eyebrow at him. "It's real," she said calmly, to which Spencer merely nodded. He was just passively agreeing with her, setting her more off. "Alright," she decided to prove him wrong, "I was in Mexico once, visiting my family and we took a trip to the cemetery to pay our respects to our family members who were gone. It started pouring rain while we were giving a few prayers to one cousin and we still had one more cousin to visit. My mother said that if that cousin wanted us to come by his tomb, he would help stop the rain. Guess what happened then?"

Aitana's smile widened when she saw Penelope's curious face leaning towards her with anticipation of what happened next. JJ looked between the two opposite sides, bemused at the whole situation. Spencer refused to look any kind of emotion; stoicism was the way to go.

"What happened?" Penelope finally broke the silence with her whisper.

"The rain stopped," Aitana answered without taking her eyes off Spencer. She saw the corners of his lips quirk and before he pronounced the whole thing a coincidence or perhaps a weather mishap, Aitana added: "It stopped right after my mother said it and the sun shined. It started raining again after we finished our prayers with our last cousin."

"Woah," Penelope whispered, eyes dazzling with fascination.

"What do you say to that, Dr. Reid?" Aitana raised an eyebrow at Spencer. She presumed he had a lot to say.

All eyes were on Spencer, that much he knew and felt, but it didn't compare to Aitana's gaze. Hers did something he couldn't really explain but was strong enough to make him doubt himself.

"Weather itself is a strange phenomenon," he finally said, albeit slowly, and clearing his throat, "It's-it's not uncommon for it to suddenly stop and start."

Aitana hummed. "If you say so, or you could just say it's unexplainable?"

Spencer's lips pursed then tightened as a smile tried worming its way out. Usually when someone challenged him, it was to compete or sometimes to shut him down but Aitana showed neither quality. She was playing, and for some reason it was a different type of fun for him. For that spark, it was hard to continue debunking Aitana.

Aitana took his silence as his admission of defeat. She let the file fall against his chest, thinking it was fair if she gave him the file if she won the conversation.

Spencer took the file into his hands, letting out a sigh admitting he was accepting of it. Not at all bad, he thought to himself on his way to the table.

The rest of the women turned to follow but not before Penelope and JJ exchanged knowing glances.

"You'd think the laundry room would be closer to the dorms," said Spencer as he grabbed a seat and opened the file. "It's on the opposite side of the campus instead of the basement."

"Leaves of 3, let them be," Rossi said just as he led a scratching Emily into the room. She was red all over her forearms.

"Oh, man. Poison Ivy," Penelope hurried to her bag. "Alcohol swabs, stat!"

"Thank you," Emily said gratefully, throwing a glance at Rossi and his smug face. "You know, if I've got it, so do you."

"I'm Italian. It knows better," he retorted plain and simple.

The others snorted.

"Where's Massey?" Rossi asked Hotch when the remaining of the team joined them.

"He's meeting with the victims' families," Hotch replied, "They're arriving now. Serrano, JJ, how are Josh's parents?"

"Upset," JJ said first, "They sent him here to keep him away from trouble."

"Not to mention they're blaming each other for Josh being here," Aitana added. "They're a straw from turning on the school, really."

"Tawes made it seem like these guys are the only family they have," Morgan said on his way to grab a seat.

"You make it sound like a cult," Strauss said irritably.

"Uh, it kind of is," Rossi clarified for her in case she had yet to realize it, and she hadn't.

Strauss didn't appreciate the accusation. Her tone sharpened. "This is a well-respected institution."

"They're not on trial," Morgan pointed out.

"The integral part of the investigation is going to be understanding what these victims lived every day," Hotch redirected the group before they got off topic. "And with whom. Bailey Shelton killed himself in Josh Redding's room."

"Was Josh in the room that night?" asked JJ.

"According to the records."

Penelope took her cue to start looking things up for them.

"Dave, you find anything in the woods?" Hotch's eyes fell over Rossi and Emily.

"Josh's tent was secluded. His things were left behind. He just took off," said Rossi.

Hotch nodded. "Massey said he never got any respect from Josh."

"And Josh's own parents said he was impossible to control," added JJ, thinking it was relevant.

"His course load indicates increased isolation," Emily started listing, "Isolated, smart, angry. That could be a budding psychopath."

Strauss raised an eyebrow. "What are you saying? Josh Redding killed his classmates?"

The team looked at each other grimly. Strauss drew in a breath, settling down on the next course of action.

"Then he's not missing. He's on the run."

"And he's had one hell of a head start," Aitana sighed, "What's it been — a week?"

"With all the skills he could ever need," Rossi said pensively.

~0~

The next day, the team regrouped with a different point of view for their case. Treating Josh Redding as the unsub changed their course distinctly starting with the fact they were no longer searching for a survivor but for a culprit.

The team set up in the library that morning with take out for breakfast and at least a half dozen coffee cups on the table.

"Ok, so how did he do it?" Emily asked the winning question. "How did Josh control 5 strong kids?"

"File under 'come back to later'?" Aitana cleverly responded but still hid behind her cup of coffee as reactions happened. It wasn't the most professional answer. Emily thought it was a fair thing to say.

Morgan took a different avenue. He thought of the smaller details. "Josh supervised the cadets both in the bunk and the laundry room. That could explain how the sheets got out."

"Yeah, so what does "we're sorry" mean if it wasn't written for suicide?" asked JJ, searching amongst the group for a good answer.

"What if Josh wanted them to apologize for something? For their sins?" Strauss chimed in. As far as her answers went, it wasn't the worst one yet.

"There's no record of bad behavior, but all of these guys were Alpha males," Penelope informed them. She was nose deep in her laptop with information on the students in question.

"They were all upperclassmen who might have bullied Bailey. The message was carved under Tucker Calhoun's tree for a reason," Hotch said, prompting Penelope to let out a low hiss.

"Yeah. We need to know more about that kid." She pulled up Tucker's personal file to go over again.

"What are you looking at?" Rossi asked Spencer as the brunette busied himself rather silently for the last half hour.

"The M. E.'s report. Bilateral fracture of the pars interarticular of the C2 vertebra."

Everyone took a moment for Spencer to explain it again but since he too was nose deep in his work, it took Penelope asking him to repeat it for him to notice.

"Classic hangman's fracture, but only one of the 5 victims had it."

That was certainly interesting.

"Which one?" Emily wondered.

"Tucker Calhoun."

Penelope's nose crinkled. "Jeez, who is this guy?"

"The others suffered rotational fractures, hanging was secondary," Emily concluded, "Staging the crime scene. Josh is more sophisticated than we thought."

"And vindictive. He wanted Tucker to suffer," added JJ.

"Makes one wonder why…" Aitana's eyes swept over the dank library. If this was the room full of education and it was in this kind of condition, she could only imagine how the rest of the school was like. One thing was for sure, if she had children she would never send them to this archaic school.

~0~

"Why the hell would Josh hurt them?" Mr. Redding was beyond irritated with the accusations against his son. Mrs. Redding was folding Josh's clothes in the room but her face was a deep scowl growing by the second.

Aitana and JJ felt quite awkward about the situation but Hotch kept the session going. Awkward or not, they needed to get to the bottom of things.

"Has Josh been more distant this year?"

"Well, his course load is extreme," Mr. Redding said curtly.

"Did he specifically complain about anyone to you?"

"I already told you no."

"Okay, well, you did say he was frustrated being saddled with the younger cadets…?" Aitana took her shot and almost immediately regretted it. Mr. Redding looked like he could murder.

"That boy Bailey cried himself to sleep every damn night," Mr. Redding snapped.

"Maybe Josh had had enough of that," JJ offered.

At the same time, Mrs. Redding threw the last piece of folded clothes into the duffel bag they brought. She turned around, glaring openly at all three agents. "He met him outside. Bailey's father couldn't come into this building. So Josh folded his clothes, his towels, everything, all so that his dad wouldn't have to walk past this room. That's what my son did. That's who my son is." She grabbed the duffel bag and handed it to her husband. The two of them stormed out of the room after that.

~0~

Penelope finished setting the last picture of their victims on the board for the team to see. Under each boy's picture was a number of high importance.

"No one told us about a point system," Emily said irritably. She and Rossi came to find out from one of the younger cadets who also told them Josh Redding was never supposed to be on the trip in the first place. He didn't have enough points.

"I'm not that surprised there's a system like that," Aitana remarked. She leaned against the edge of the bed, crossing her arms and taking in each number of points the boys had. "I went to Catholic school — they had something similar to that only we lost points too. For the stupidest things."

"What did you lose them for?" Penelope curiously asked.

Aitana's face scrunched. "My skirt was two inches shorter than permissible."

"You naughty girl," Emily snickered, causing the others to do the same. Only Rossi merely shook his head.

"Not like that!" Aitana groaned. "I hit a growth spurt, alright?"

"The first and last by the looks of it," Morgan's remark had the whole team laughing. Even Penelope and Spencer, the ones who rarely laughed at others, had to hide their laughs behind their hands.

"Derek Morgan, I hate you," Aitana declared with a very childish huff.

The only way that the laughter stopped was with Hotch's return. Together, they studied the amount of points the boys had. Unsurprisingly, Tucker Calhoun had the most points out of the boys.

"So who approves these points?" Aitana asked. While Hotch looked away, she grabbed a case file and smacked Morgan on the back of the head with it.

"Massey," Hotch replied, eyeing Morgan for the fact he was fervently rubbing the back of his head. The rest of the team were quiet witnesses.

"Well, maybe Tucker was his little pet," Rossi suggested, "Leader of everything."

"Steamroller types like that, they don't let anybody get in their way," said JJ, "Nothing was nice about that kid. It sounds like he strong-armed everybody."

"Well, then the points are for bad behavior, only they're not calling it that," Penelope said bitterly. She thought the whole system was horrible enough.

"We should look at the points of everyone who died in those woods," Spencer said, prompting Penelope to get back on the computer. "My guess is they were all bullies. Except for Josh.

In the midst of their search, the team got word that Bailey's father had been found murdered in the same woods as the previous victims. Emily and Rossi were sent to examine the scene.

In the meantime, they had discovered something very important. Chris Shelton had hung the boys, not Josh. It was easy to reason why he had done it — the boys bullied Bailey until he committed suicide but it made no sense why Josh had been part of the vendetta.

"We should focus on how he got out there in the first place," Aitana said over the phone. She walked straight into the library, giving an acknowledging nod to the others in the room. "Yeah, okay, see you then." She hung up and met the others waiting gazes. "Anyone want to take a crack at this mystery?"

"It's all got to connect back to Massey," Morgan said without a moment's thought. It was no secret he held quite a disdain for the Colonel. "A man like Massey sets rules but is the first to break them. He's been left alone to run these kids' lives and nobody questions him."

"Oh, man, that sounds so sad and scary when you put it like that," Penelope said, shuddering at the image.

"His policies are a combination of many other philosophies. I'm not sure where his actual leadership lies," Spencer said thoughtfully but clearly troubled with the lack of clarity.

"Only that it does…lie, that is," Penelope trailed off in hopes that Spencer would understand her. He didn't. "It's a joke."

"Oh," he straightened in his seat, "Good joke."

Morgan and Aitana smiled and shook their heads simultaneously.

After a couple minutes, Penelope discovered that the school did have a cellphone, a hidden one. "It's not listed under Massey. The account was opened by Tawes."

"If Massey's lying about something as simple as a cell phone, what else is he hiding?" It sounded a lot to the others like Morgan had long ago made his mind up about the Colonel and they couldn't really blame him.

"I don't think we should let you keep going one on one with Massey," Penelope voiced her concern.

"I'm good," Morgan said in a low mutter.

Aitana shrugged. "You're not wrong. That catholic school I told you about — surprise! The headmistress was the devil. I wasn't that bad of a student, you know? And yet somehow I wound up with detention way too many times."

"For all we know, you could've been a bad listener," Penelope wagged a finger at the brunette.

"I was not!"

"Or at least a violent one," Morgan said, pointing to his head for evidence.

"Oh please," Aitana crossed her arms, "You and Spencer do a lot worse to each other in your little prank wars."

Spencer bobbed his head, about to speak when Morgan called out to him. "Don't you dare agree with her. She's not as innocent as she looks. Half those detentions had to be well earned."

"Did not," Aitana insisted, "I literally got detention because the headmistress swore she saw a tattoo on me."

Morgan's eyebrows raised curiously. "And do you?"

Aitana adamantly refused such an idea but her mischievous smile betrayed her.

"Oh, you do!" Penelope pointed excitedly at Aitana.

Aitana put her hands behind her back. "I was...a teenager. That's what every teenager does."

"Not true," Morgan said pointedly as he 'happened' to walk by Spencer's chair. The latter felt the silent jab of Morgan's words.

"I was getting another degree — there's nothing wrong with that!" He exclaimed, frowning enough to make Penelope chuckle beside him.

"So what is it, then?" Morgan asked Aitana. "And where is it?"

Aitana's smile widened; nothing was able to take the mischief from her. "What it is: none of your business. Location...left to the imagination."

Penelope laughed like never before. Morgan then revealed that Penelope had once told them she too had a forbidden tattoo somewhere on her body.

"Alright, Pen," Aitana walked up to the table and high-fived the blonde.

"It's fun being spontaneous," Penelope told Morgan and Spencer as a means of reasoning for her choices.

Morgan shook his head with bemusement while Spencer seemed more reluctant to keep discussing the matter, even being in the same room while it happened.

"But don't you ever tell my parents about it," Aitana warned the trio, "They don't know about it."

"Aren't you 27?" Morgan raised an eyebrow at her.

"I'm Mexican — that means nothing to my parents." Aitana pretended to shudder at the idea of being caught.

~0~

Later in the day, JJ returned with Hotch from the coroner's office. While Hotch stayed back with Morgan in the hallway, JJ told the others about the interesting details the coroner had said about the boys.

"The M. E. said Bailey had blisters and burns, fingertips were raw, his trachea had internal scarring."

Penelope shuddered in her seat. She couldn't believe her ears. "That's awful." Everyone else agreed except for Spencer who had stayed relatively quiet for a few minutes. It was unlike him for the situation. He spoke after several minutes had passed by.

"Guys, that could be damage done inside an industrial-size dryer."

The whole team froze but no one looked more horrified than Penelope. She genuinely wished she had stayed behind in her office.

"That's how Massey's breaking these boys," Emily concluded. It was a crucial piece they needed to fit in their puzzle.

"But...but in all the materials it says they don't believe in corporal punishment," Penelope said weakly, still unable to believe it right away.

"Bailey writes about each of those boys and how they bullied him," Rossi said, gesturing to Bailey's diary they had acquired earlier in the day. His father must have read it and wanted revenge."

"Well does it mention Josh?" asked Aitana.

"Not at all."

"They why would Chris Shelton go after him?"

"What if Massey lied to Chris Shelton?" Emily introduced the new theory. "And set Josh up. And he convinced Shelton that Josh was responsible for Bailey's suicide."

"Plausible," JJ said but her tone hinted at a hole she still looked at. "That still doesn't explain how he found the secluded woods."

"Wait, where's Mr. Shelton's phone?" Spencer asked, already looking around for the phone.

Enily picked up the evidence bag off the table. "It's right here." She turned it on and went through the contacts. "It's got a couple of contacts on it, Somerville Academy being one of them."

Spencer intently watched her. "Any unknowns?"

"There's one unknown. It's a text." Emily opened up the message and saw a strange set of numbers.

"What are they?" Spencer still wanted to know the exact numbers on the screen.

"252-5727...and 802-8448." Emily looked up at the others, nose crinkling. "What?"

Something had gone off in Spencer's mind. He got up from his chair within the second and headed for the map on one of the boards. "Those aren't phone numbers. That's latitude and longitude." He tapped the spot they had labeled as the campsite for the boys.

By nightfall, the team had deduced that Massey was trying to take Josh out through Tawes. Time was of the essence.

"Massey was in his office," Emily told the group through the comms. when they took off in their cars. Only Penelope and Spencer stayed back to monitor them.

"He has no idea we're onto him," Rossi said plainly, "He's too arrogant to realize."

The three cars drove to their respective assigned locations. In the end, Hotch and Morgan's car was the lucky car to find Tawes and Josh, both seconds away from committing murder.

With Josh in custody, the team were able to straighten up the facts and form a tight case against Colonel Massey and Tawes.

~ 0 ~

"I am not telling you where it is." Aitana couldn't help but laugh at Morgan. He was tailing behind her as soon as they stepped out of the elevator. "Nor what it is!"

The team were returning to begin their paperwork before going home.

"I bet it's on the leg, isn't it?" Morgan asked, smirking down at the brunette. "That's where my guess was for Garcia."

Aitana paused by the desks and looked back at the blonde in question. "And was he right?"

Penelope shook her head. "Nope," she popped the answer. "I don't even have one."

Morgan's finger pointed directly at Penelope, eyes narrowing in flatout disbelief. "Don't even start denying it."

Penelope smiled in return.

Morgan's head then turned back on Aitana like a swing. "It's on your back, isn't it?"

Aitana rolled her eyes. "Not even close."

"Give it up already, jeez," Emily told Morgan with a shake of her head.

"I'm going to get it!" Morgan insisted, trying yet another location.

"No, it's not on my shoulder blade, Morgan," Aitana crossed her arms. "I do have some paperwork to finish. So sorry we can't continue this lovely conversation."

"I'm going to get it!" Morgan warned her, his finger already pointing at her.

Aitana rolled her eyes at him. "Why can't you be more like the others? Rossi didn't even ask about it."

"And he won't," Rossi clarified on his way past the group, causing a rumble of chuckles from the group.

"And look at Spencer – he hasn't even asked about it once." Aitana whacked Morgan's arm. "You're the nosy one here. Take some lessons."

Morgan huffed as Aitana took off for her office.

"Better luck next time," JJ patted his shoulder on her way to her desk.

"Please, everyone's curious," Morgan said, "It's human nature. Including you, Pretty Boy."

Spencer didn't appreciate being called out and much less the jab he got on the arm. "I didn't even say anything!" He'd purposely kept his mouth shut for a reason.

"Mhm." The way Morgan looked at him made Spencer feel like he was doing something he shouldn't. And he wasn't.

But he felt like his face was growing warmer by the seconds. He did not think of the places that famous tattoo was on — his flush certainly betrayed him.