#it just feels weird to use their first names when they haven’t done so themselves y'know??

[funarisjournal]

Random thought occurred to me on the way back from work. Kinda random, but I had to make a musing-essay on it.

We joke about how Nomoto and Kasuga never call each other by their first names, but I realized they kept this streak going even when it would've made sense to actually use their first names??

I can't help but give props to the drama version for keeping it up, too. Curry party, Nomoto has trouble addressing Kasuga? I originally laughed because she was still new to having a girlfriend ("what do I call her??") But now I realize she couldn't even say Kasuga's name lmao. Kasuga ends up finishing the introduction to Yako properly

Even Japanese fanworks keep up the lack-of-name streak, actually. It's still just "Nomoto-san" and "Kasuga-san," even if the work takes place after they move in together.

Heck, even I can't personally do anything with them using first names. It feels...weird right now lmao. Do you all get that feeling, too? Or are you on Nagumo and Yako's side (former giving them the firstname-chan names and the latter at least addressing Nomoto by first name)?

[rainbowolfe]

All About the Fanatic

I’ve been mulling this over since Sins of the Flesh dropped, but now I finally have the time to make a formal post about it. It’s about the identity of the Fanatic.

First things first, who is the Fanatic? Like as a person (beast).

The Fanatic was deemed worthy of a Crown by Chemach after surviving some sort of conflict. They are someone who is incredibly devoted to the First Gods/Great Ones even after ascension. And before receiving their own Crown, they too were just a Follower worshipping a Crown Bearer for protection. Timeline-wise, this probably places the start of Fanatic’s story shortly after the Great Ones leave this realm/world (though haven’t completely abandoned it yet. Maybe).

Right off the bat, we get confirmation that Crowns are living things. “I will nourish this Crown and be worthy of this power.” Crowns are something that have to be fed, and in exchange, the wearer gets to use its powers.

Fanatic has deemed themselves judge, jury, and executioner in the name of the Great Ones. If their weapon-set didn’t come with the Crown, then I believe that’s what they’re asking for in the second tablet. (“I seek your understanding.”) Though they’re being vague about what it is they want, they’re asking for something. And they’re offering further dedication/sacrifice in exchange.

Alternatively, they feel they’ve done something wrong and are asking for forgiveness. Either way, their weapons allow them to (effectively) convert Fervour into Devotion. They have a direct incentive to kill as much as possible. They technically don’t need Followers to feed their Crown either, putting them in a very unique position.

While they seem to start in Silk Cradle (they make mention of seeing the weapons used by the Great Ones), when they grow older they go on a pilgrimage that lands them in Spore Grotto. This may be a point in the “did something wrong and now they feel guilty” category, cause no one goes on a pilgrimage just because. The Mushroomos are present but don’t reveal themselves. Maybe they just haven’t evolved to the point of mobility at this time, but they can speak (to each other). And they can see.

Fanatic comments on how the air smells sweet, which could be a few different things, but it all relates back to either illness or decay. It could be the scent of the menticide mushrooms/Mushroomos. It could be the bacteria thriving in the dead carcass of a god. Or it could be a sign of what killed the God in the first place. Certain illnesses make the body give off a sweet smell in death, such as cancer, sepsis, or diabetes.

Loosely off-topic, but I believe this dead carcass of a Great One is why the rest of them ditched this realm. It’s one thing for First Gods to kill First Gods. It’s another for a Beast, an Idol, or even some random monster to do so.

“Hatched beneath the First, they crave no power, seek no other fulfillment, for it is not in their nature. And it is by nature that we must abide.”

The Fanatic values nature above all. It is the thing they’re most concerned with when they see the state of Chemach a hundred years later. Whatever cult they were originally apart of most likely worshipped a nature-oriented idol (which is one of the Aesthetics we can take on in SotF). For as much as they praise the Great Ones and seek their favor, they don’t actually value them. Not more than themselves. (as we see later)

As Fanatic passes the triple digits in age, they’re more inclined to keep a better record of the world around them. It seems that, post whatever happened to Chemach, Crowns are distributed randomly at any time. Some are hidden away to be found, others are taken by force. With no real “benefactor” save for the Crown itself, many probably just. Died from their own incompetence. And some other Beast was there to scoop up their Crown.

“Rise and fall like tides cut free from the moon” loosely implies (to me) that either a major Ocean deity or Moon deity has died. It’s weird wording you wouldn’t ever use unless something has happened to your moon. The tides are explicitly controlled by the moon. So if they’re cut free from it…

Fanatic is approached by what’s presumed to be a war god. And it most likely is. But technically, it could be any of the surviving five, as they’re all apart of this purge. The new faith that calls themselves the Old Faith. Fanatic isn’t interested in turning on their peers or worshipping… whatever it is the Old Faith worships.

It is very funny that Fanatic is on a first name basis with exactly one god. Hundreds of them. Hundreds. They name one. And it’s interesting that their domain is tied to “change”, much like Shamura claims Knowledge is.

Yngya is a made up name, as far as I can tell, so it’s not obvious what their domain was. What we do know is that they were responsible for changing the color of the leaves. So, some sort of season-based god, if not specifically Fall.

I suspect they’re a Death God. The Blood Moon Ritual is associated with the changing of seasons, and with it souls are allowed to pass on peacefully. If their domain specifically has to do with Fall, they’re most likely a Harvest God and those are often Death Gods.

I do wonder what it is Haro did that allowed her to keep her life and her Crown. There’s something off about her Crown, sure, but she still has it. She’s still powerful/capable based on the bodies you can find in her room. And she’s in a close enough range of the Bishops to have a pretty good idea of what happened between them.

The Fanatic may not recognize it, but there is/was some sort of relationship between them and the war god. Some sort of history. Maybe it’s a Mr. Incredible-Buddy thing. Where the Fanatic was the war god’s idol, but the war god was nothing to Fanatic. Regardless of the details. Every other God (save for Haro) was completely wiped from the record. They weren’t just killed. Their Crown, their Domain, and their Shrines are gone.

And though Fanatic is forced to revoke their Crown, they’re spared. (“How easily pain made a defector of me.”) I don’t believe it’s possible that none of the other hundreds of Gods were unwilling to defect in exchange for their lives. I think it’s that Fanatic was the only one given that choice.

From the beginning, the War God sought out Fanatic to give them a chance to join their new cause/religion. They were turned away… but came back near the end of the purge. Not to kill Fanatic, but to torture them into submission. “No” was never an option. The game implies that re-education is a painful process. If you reeducate someone at night, Followers will wonder about the screams they heard in their sleep.

*insert segue here*

Sozo was worshipped by Mushroomos, but also held deeply rooted contempt for them that manifested through cannibalism. I spent a bit of time stalking Sozo in my playthrough, and I noticed that he hates Mushroomo. Rightfully so, considering what happened to him. Under the influence of the menticide mushrooms, his true feelings bubble to the surface. But that’s not the important part for this. The point is, when we complete the requirements of Sozo’s quest, it’s not an ant follower form we’re granted. It’s a Mushroomo.

Therefore, I don’t think the serpent skin we get represents the form the Fanatic took. It represents the being the Fanatic has unfinished business with. Business we somehow resolve by learning/seeking “the truth”. Which is what the Ancient Tablets represent. The tab you read the Ancient Tablets (and the extra notes) in is explicitly called “Knowledge”.

 Shamura is the only character we’ve encountered that has two domains. Knowledge and War. Something more had to have happened behind the scenes for them to acquire their second domain. The Bishops killed hundreds of gods, but the Bishops didn’t acquire those domains. They were lost. When Yngya is killed, the Bishops don’t inherit the ability to change the seasons, it just doesn’t happen anymore.

So the question is, was Shamura the God of War first? Or the God of Knowledge? Based on how everyone in the game speaks about them, I’m inclined to believe it was Knowledge.

What Shamura is praised for most is their mind. Narinder reminisces about the strength of their mind and how they were once the wisest out of all of them. What’s taken from them is their intelligence—the information they’ve acquired over the years. (“I may no longer be wise, but I am no fool”). Their followers give offerings to them to ask for knowledge and guidance. And it’s also the domain they tell Lamb about first.

In fact, if Lamb doesn’t challenge them and instead bows when they request it, Shamura doesn’t share that they’re also a God of War.

Even the status effect they’re afflicted with (Dissenting) is more related to Knowledge than it is War. When Dissenter’s dissent, there’s the chance you get dialogue from them. And in that dialogue, they speak of knowing the truth. The truth and knowledge are inherently connected in this world. Dissenter’s don’t encourage violence or fighting, but a mass exodus. Dissenters steal, but they don’t destroy anything.

The Fanatic admits to relinquishing their blessing, aka their Crown. BUT, we see with Narinder/TOWW that giving up your Crown doesn’t mean giving up your godhood or the abilities that came with it. He was still the God of Death (and had complete control over that domain) until Lamb defeated him. Even after his defeat, he’s still immortal (unless you have Mystic Seller put him through the godly washing machine).

Therefore, even after giving up their crown so they would be spared, they would still be the God of Knowledge. Just without a cult or any real power to wield.

“Five becomes… becomes… Nothing. Nothing at all.”

Even pre sins of the flesh, I thought it was an interesting detail that Shamura doesn’t include themselves in their countdown. When you go to fight Shamura, they consider themselves not as ‘one’ but as ‘nothing’.

Then, there’s their final line before you fight them. Lifted straight from the Fanatic’s chronicles. These ancient tablets aren’t, like. Laying around, free for anyone to read. Lamb gets to see them because they’re the chosen one. And they have to sacrifice a full heart to have it (a pound of flesh, in Fox’s terms).

And if Shamura was the one who subjugated/killed the Fanatic, I don’t think they’d be allowed access to these tablets by the higher power guarding them. If they are the one who purged all the other gods to hide the fact that they started a new, fake religion, then they’re not exactly someone who “values truth over all else”. They have to be the one who came up with this little rhyme.

“He of havoc, he of blight; she of hunger, they of might.”

It would be weird for anyone to refer to themselves in the third person, but people gave Shamura a pass because their brain isn’t completely contained within their skull. But I have to wonder if Shamura actually is that kind of crazy. They struggle with memory and the wide-eyed stare makes them look incredibly lost at any given moment. And it seems like they have trouble tending to the needs of their followers as a cult leader. But they aren’t insane. When they’re speaking to Lamb, they seem very aware, actually.

Shamura’s issue seems to be that they spend so much time trying to remember the past, that they’re not reliably “present”. They’re effectively day-dreaming, even when they don’t mean to. Off in their own head. But they’re not like Chemach. They aren’t giggling at inside jokes they share only with themself, or talking to inanimate objects. They just aren’t as smart as they once were, because they can’t retain information.

Even when left without their Crown, it’s still just memory they struggle with—just more so than before. They still don’t speak in third person. They speak in rhymes to help them remember distant things (which they did with their Crown too). Which like. That is a thing. Mnemonic devices are known to be useful for boosting memory for everyone, not just people who struggle with memory loss.

I posit: Shamura was never speaking in the third person. There were five siblings. Five Gods. Five bringers of the end. And Shamura was a sixth, an outsider looking in. Shamed and conquered, and indoctrinated into this group unwillingly.

We see in-game, that there’s something about indoctrinating someone that makes them incredibly… complicit? Passive? Narinder explicitly did not want to join Lamb’s cult, but if you spare and indoctrinate him, he doesn’t leave. (Excluding various game mechanics that apply to all followers) He’s very critical of Lamb and the cult, but even that fades into a begrudging acceptance. He never expresses that he wants to leave. Same with all the Bishops.

The brief memory Shamura has when you give them Spider Silk would reinforce the idea that they weren’t exactly a willing participant in the Old Faith.

“In my silk, I snared a Crown… to their faith, irrevocably bound…”

The Crown given to the Fanatic by Chemach was clearly very revocable. There were no strings attached to their faith in the Great Ones. In fact, their devotion was given by choice. They offered it up. There’s also this decoration:

Of a Red Crown trapped in a web. This seems pretty connected to the memory they’re reciting.

Shamura, still a God of Knowledge just without Crown, would eventually kill and usurp the then-God of War. Granting them two domains. One granted to them by the Great Ones, the other granted to them by another force. Again, whatever force the Old Faith serves. Turua, I suspect.

All with the help of Narinder, the one they love the most.

“Bond forged by the spilling of blood… I know you hear me, God of Death.”

Whatever brought these two together was the death of another. They killed someone. And there are not a lot of options for beings that would require two gods (well, a god and a half) to take them out. Thus it would be really fitting if who they killed was the God of War that made Shamura revoke their Crown in the first place.

In that scenario, of course Shamura would love Narinder the most. They would not only appreciate the gesture and favor him over the others, but they would feel indebted to him. They would do anything for him, as he did for them.

Which includes doing whatever the hell it was that got their brain squashed and Narinder imprisoned, despite their best judgment.

[moody-alcoholic]

Unwavering Devotion Chapter 7

Yes this is a repost, and a test.

I usually post sneak peaks but I thought why not post full chapters, so yeah I'm giving it ago.

Previous <- Current -> Next (coming soon tm) Full fic HERE

Masterlist

Summary: Simon x OC(medic), 3.7k words. CW: Mental health, breakdowns, mentions of death, hurt/comfort. lots of angst, like if there was a definition of angst it would be this chapter.

Enjoy <3

Rosaly  3 months later

“Keep this up we’ll be going all night!” I shout at the recruits running down the hill I hear someone walking behind me. 

“Evening lieutenant.” I recognised the voice its Price. I don't turn around instead noting something on my clipboard. 

“You’ve ignored all my messages this was the only way to contact you.” 

“Don’t you think maybe there was a reason for that.” I say watching the recruits. 

“I’m getting 141 back together.” He said, I chuckled.

“Okay good luck with that,” I say, bitterly. These last few months have made me bitter. 

“We found Joshua and Noah.” He says 

“That’s great I’m sure the CIA and Shadow Company will deal with them.” I say walking down the path to see the troop better. Price doesn’t say anything I turn to look at him. He looks tired, like always. 

“There is no 141 anymore Price.” I say tired, throwing my arms out almost pleading for him to let it go. “I haven’t heard from Gaz in months, John is dead Si…” I choke, I cant say his name. I hold my ground, turning around again so he cant see my fight to stay emotionless. I hear him sigh. 

“I’ll have Laswell send you the details.” He said sounding defeated. 

“When you’re done watching recruits maybe give it a look. You’re a soldier Rosaly, and we have a job to finish.” I shake my head, angry. I hear him take a step away. 

“It’s what Johnny would have done… Simon too.” I turn round and watch as he walks of the grass. 

“Price!” I shout, sighing. “Why me? You have a chance to build a new 141, a better 141 you literally have your pick of any soldier. Why me?” 

“I think out of all of us you deserve some revenge.” He says as he walks back over to me. 

“Is Gaz on board?” 

“Yeah.” He nods, I have no idea what happened with me and Gaz. A few days after I was back in Scotland, he abruptly left. We spoke a few times after that then nothing. I mean I wasn’t exactly in the talking mood but even Price came up to visit and called from time to time. 

“Where are they?” I ask, I see Price smile. 

“I’ll have Laswell send you the details.” He repeats.

“I go back home tomorrow,” I say. I don’t know why I said that, Johnny wanted the house filled with love and people he loved. It feels weird since I left there a month ago, I don’t even know if I can go back yet. 

“We can meet there. Thursday?” He says, that was two days away. I nod, turning back to the troop running up the hill. I hear him walk away again. I was all of a sudden regretting this. I should hear him out at least, he was right it’s what John and Simon would have done. I take a big gulp of air in clearing my throat as the troop made it back to me. 

“Well?” I say waiting for them to say something. I let them talk, trying to explain what they did to the dummy they just dragged up and down the hill. I squeeze my eyes closed as they start to mess up again. Fucking Price. Now I'm too distracted to focus. I sigh dismissing them, Price has riled me up too much, I hope whoever is taking over from me can do a better job. 

I make it into the mess sitting down at the table with the other staff, the base captain moves over to sit in front of me. Captain Sands, he’s new young, it’s his first command position. 

“So what did captain Price want?” He asked. I shrug sipping my tea. “What you didn’t hear him out? Seemed like he had something important to say.” 

“He always has something important to say.” I say back to him, I look down the table at the other officers talking amongst themselves. I never felt like I really fit in but I was told if I wanted to teach I had to accept the promotion. At least Price was good enough to put in a good word for me. 

“So when will you be back?” He asks. I shrug.

“I have 3 weeks of leave saved, probably going to use them all at once so I can get back to work.” I say. 

“Oh great so you’ll be back before the new recruits come, that’ll be fun.” I nod finishing the cup of tea. 

“I should go pack, I have a long drive tomorrow.” I say getting up, taking the sandwich off my tray and heading to the staff dorms. To get to them I have to walk through the recruit corridors. 

“Why is she such a bitch though? My boots are never going to be dry for inspection tomorrow.” I hear someone say, I stop in my tracks eavesdropping. 

“I heard her husband was killed in action.” Someone else said.

“Doesn't give you the right to be a bitch though.” The first girl said.

“She was special forces before this.” Yet another girl said. 

“What really? Why is she here?” 

“Cos her husband was killed in action dumbass then she went fucking crazy from what I heard.” I crossed my arms taken aback by what I was hearing.

“You’re going to have to dry your boots by the tumble dryers.” One of the girls said I could hear them making their way to the door. I stood there when they opened the door they both jumped. I saw other girls in the room jump out of my line of sight. 

“You girls sure do hear a lot.” I said, they looked embarrassed their cheeks going red. I sighed I couldn’t be bothered to be dishing out disciplines on my last night I just wanted to sleep not be burred in paperwork. I step aside, nodding at them to leave. They rushed past me, I could hear them giggling as the doors closed behind them. I closed my eyes shaking my head and made it to my room. My bag was already packed, I just wanted to sleep, and not speak to anyone. I pulled my clothes off throwing them over the chair for tomorrow then flopping into bed in my underwear. I plug my phone in to charge and roll over in the bed looking at the ceiling in the dark. Maybe going home would be a good thing, maybe I did need a break. Maybe it was time to dust the skeletons out the closet.  

I’m in Paris again on the hill. I’m trying to run down but I keep falling, each time I get closer I trip. Then there’s the fence the stupid fence that is always too high to climb, impossibly endlessly looping round the building keeping me just out of reach. And then I can see him, laying on the floor flames all around him. I scream his name, over and over. Sometimes he hears me and that makes it worse, it’s like the flames are alive every time he tries to run to me it’s like the flames pick him up and drag him back in. I can never make it to him in time. He always dies, it just depends on if he’s screaming or not.  

The house feels so empty, every time I come back here it feels so empty. I dump my bags in the hall letting the usual smells fill my nose, the damp that’s been building up while I’ve been away, the pine, the faint smell of gunpowder that seems to linger on almost every surface of this house. I make my way into the basement resetting the alarm then head to the kitchen. I flick the light on seeing cups in the sink, why does it still hurt, it’s been 3 months. I spend the rest of the day cleaning making the place somewhat warm and presentable. I want to fish but it’s November now, way too cold plus all the fish will be right at the bottom of the loch, so it’s really hit or miss. I ignored Price’s messages, I don’t know why I was still mad at him, it wasn’t really him I was mad at it was the situation. I made all the beds up but I slept in Johnny’s room again. I don’t know why it just felt wrong being in the master bedroom without Simon. 

Price arrived early the next evening, I was in the kitchen washing up when I saw his Jeep pull into the garage. I sighed clicking the kettle on and pulling cups out the cupboard as I heard him and Gaz come through the front door. I could swear I heard another voice though. I shook the thought away. I’m just hearing things. 

“Hey Williams.” Price said as he walked into the kitchen I turned to greet him and my heart stopped. There was Simon, stood in the kitchen doorway. I tried to take a breath in but my body betrayed me a lump forming in my throat. Am I dreaming?      

The cups fall from my hands smashing on the floor. I breath again, staring in silence eyes wide not quite believing what I’m seeing. My eyes fill with tears but I’m trying really hard not to let them spill over, each time I blink I feel like he’s going to vanish again. My legs feel like jelly, Price moves beside me and grips my arm.

“H-how long?” I say choking on my words, not taking my eyes off him. No one says anything.

“How long Price?” I say snapping my head to look at him, pulling my arm out his hand. He looks sad, like his eyes are trying to plead with me. I don’t care I feel sick.

“Since Paris.” He says. I gasp looking back at Simon, it’s like I don’t recognise him, it’s like this is not real. I step back hitting the counter top looking at him. I close my eyes for a second then I’m too scared to open them. I’m dreaming, this can’t be real, the man I love, the man who I thought was dead… I opened my eyes, he was still there, I feel the tears running down my face now there is nothing I can do to stop them. I grip the counter I don’t know what to say. I want to run I want to touch him, I need to know he’s real. I turn round my hands shaking I open a drawer take out the tray of cutlery putting it on the counter. I see it, his letter. I never opened it, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I take it out feeling the dogtags through the envelope. I walk over to Price and hand it too him.

“Since Paris..” I say quietly. I look back over at Simon, he’s taken a step closer he hasn’t said a word, he looks sad I can see his eyes filling with moisture. I let out a shaky breath looking at him, I have to turn away I can’t do this. I step back looking at him my lip trembles, before I know it I’m out the kitchen door, as soon as I hear it close behind me I start running. I don’t care about the rain, I just keep running my lungs burn, I welcome the sensation. I make it too the loch looking out at the dark water, something about it makes me want to throw my body into it, I always loved the water.

The rain is pelting down making me shiver as it hits my hot skin. As soon as I catch my breath I pick another direction and run, I don’t know how long it’s been or where I am. I just keep going until I feel my lungs burning again, my legs throbbing. I fall against a tree feeling the fat blobs of rain hit my body. I didn’t bring a coat, it’s getting dark now. The thought of going home is horrible, I want to go back to the loch. I love him, I should be happy, why does it not feel real. I pull my phone out my pocket, I see missed calls from Price and Gaz. Fuck them. I throw the phone at the tree in front of me watching it bounce off and onto the floor. The screen lights up for a second. I scoff, I can’t even destroy a phone properly. I let out a big breath making my body tingle as my muscles shake, I pull myself back up to my feet. All I can feel is pain, good it’s something else to think of other then the fact Simon's alive.

The thought makes me stumble over some tree roots I feel my face hit the ground. I lay there sobbing for a few minutes, my lungs ache. I pull myself up propping my back up against a tree. Simon’s alive. It doesn't feel real, but he was real, he was stood there in the kitchen. Why did I run? Pathetic. I lean back wiping the mud off my face. Why did I run? I should be happy, or maybe I will take a nap now and wake up to him still being dead, and this was all just a fucked up dream. I was tired. The weeks of relentless nightmares, of him burning to death and I couldn’t do anything. I mourned for him, I thought I was never going to see him again, but he’s alive. He’s alive… I lean back against the tree and close my eyes, I feel a smile form on my lips. He’s alive, he’s alive, he’s alive… 

I wake to the sound of rustling, I open my eyes it’s pitch black, I’m soaked, my body feels stiff. 

“Here! Price bring a blanket.” I hear Simon, it’s his voice. I look over at the source of the noise, lights were breaking through the treeline, the rain was still pelting down. He kneeled down putting the torch down. My eyes were sore and swollen from all the crying. 

“Simon?” I asked my voice barely a whisper. I feel him scoop me up in his arms like I weigh nothing.

“Yeah it’s me, you’re okay.” He says as I shiver against him the heat from his body feels like it’s almost burning me. I see someone else now more lights I press my head into Simon’s chest. 

“Christ you gave us a scare.” I hear Price say as he throws a blanket over me. I feel Simon move, I hear the sound of a car, I see Price’s Jeep. He opens the back door and I get in laying down on the back seats. All of a sudden I’m aware of how cold I am my teeth chattering uncontrollably, my clothes sodden stuck to my skin. I assumed Simon was going to be getting in the front then I hear the side door open. He gets in slowly moving my head so it’s resting on his thigh. He pulls the blanket round me more. His leg is wet but warm, I can feel the heat on my cheek through his clothes. 

“Price can we turn the heat on?” Simon asks and I see Price reaching down to press buttons. A few seconds later warm air blows through the car. I close my eyes feeling sleepy, enjoying the feel of Simon touching me again. 

“Hey, Rosaly, come on stay awake.” I feel Simon shake me. 

“I’m tired.” I try to say but it comes out more like a mumble. I fight to keep my eyes open for the rest of the drive, it takes us a while I wonder where I ended up or how they even found me. When we get to the house I’m exhausted. I slide out the car, gripping the door for support. The rain seems to be letting up, or maybe I’m too wet to care. I see Gaz at the door waiting. Price goes over to talk to him I take a step forward but my legs are shaking. Simon is here again picking me back up in his arms. I drop my head on his chest, I hear his heart beat. He’s alive. I close my eyes counting each beat. I feel Simon walking up the stairs into the master bedroom. He sits me down on the bed. I look at him as he kneels down in front of me. I bring my hand up to touch his face. I feel the stubble under my fingers my thumb brushes over his mouth. His eyes burning that beautiful amber. 

“You’re alive.” I say, he leans up and kisses me, I close my eyes letting him push his tongue in my mouth, he tastes just like I remember. His movements are soft and slow. My hand falls from his face and he pulls back. I look up at him blinking. 

“I’m alive.” He says, he looks sad like he want’s to say something more. I shiver, my wet clothes feeling heavy on my body. 

“Let’s get you out of these clothes and in the bath, you’re freezing.” I nod and let him undress me throwing the clothes on the floor, I felt exposed for some reason, it had been months since I had been naked in front of him. He brushed my hair out my face and kissed my forehead. He ran the bath while I sat there with the blanket wrapped round me I looked at the rain falling down the window. The kitchen light was on, I bet Gaz and Price were making tea. I stood up feeling more secure on my legs and made my way into the bathroom. Simon had taken his shirt off hanging it over the sink. I dropped the blanket and he helped me into the tub. He sat on the floor outside the tub eye level with me as he controlled the heat of the water. I leaned back in the bath letting it warm me, it did feel good. After a few more minutes he reached over and turned off the tap. I leaned on the side of the tub watching him, his hand reached out and brushed the hair out my face. 

“I mourned for you.” I say eventually, he hangs his head for a second and looks back up his fingers never leaving my face. 

“I know, I’m sorry.” He said his voice calm, sincere. 

“I didn’t read your letter,” I say feeling a wave of guilt come over me. 

“It’s okay,” He says dipping his hand in the water to hold mine. He squeezes it, I smile finally feeling myself relax as his thumb rubs my palm. I sit there for a little longer letting the water heat me all the way through to my bones. 

“I’m scared,” I sigh feeling myself getting sleepy. 

“What about?” He asks squeezing my hand. 

“That I’m going to wake up and this is all a dream and you’re still dead.” I don’t even think I have any more tears left to cry. He stands up grabbing a towel and holding it out for me. I stand up and he wraps it round me picking me up and putting me on the floor. He keeps hold of me squeezing me for a second longer. 

“Did that feel real?” He asked. I nod, he leans in and kisses me. “How about that?” I nod again. He smiles and leads me into the bedroom. I don’t want to leave his side even as I look through the drawers for pj’s. I change as he strips down into his underwear. I walk over to him, my hands run down his arms, he has fresh wounds, bruises. 

“What happened?” I ask. He kisses the top of my head grabbing my wrists.

“I’ll tell you tomorrow.” He says. I sigh letting him guide me to bed. It’s weird being back on my side, while I thought he was dead I would sleep on his side. I get back in he follows my movements like he’s trying not to spook me. I reach over and turn the bedside light off. I turn back to see him moving the pillow his hand stops and he pulls out a mask from under it. I feel embarrassed all of a sudden, he looks at me with it in his hands. 

“It used to smell like you…I couldn’t sleep without it.” I say hanging my head. His fingers find my chin and he pulls my face to look up at him. My eyes have adjusted to the dark, I can see his features now. 

“Do you want it now?” He asks. I take it out his hand. It feels so familiar in my hands after all these months. I can tell the smell has almost entirely faded now that he is back. I turn and put it on the bedside table next to the picture of me and Johnny. I look back at him and let him pull me into his arms. My head finds it’s way into the familiar crook of his shoulder and he angles his body, to hug me better. He plants little kisses on my head.

“I love you.” He says, I feel tears roll but I don’t care. I breathe him in placing my hand on his chest so I can feel his heartbeat. 

“I love you too,” I reply closing my eyes. I relax into his arms as he whispers in my ears, kissing my head, every now and then. I didn’t think I would be able to sleep but, I did, I slept so well for the first time in months. 

I woke to Simon stroking my cheek, I practically threw myself on him worried he was still going to vanish. I smiled at him and he smiled back. There were no nightmares last night, just good dreams happy dreams. I don’t want to let him go I don’t want to let him out my sight even as we head downstairs. Price and Gaz are already awake I can hear them talking as we make it into the kitchen. I pick the kettle up off the table refilling it and boiling it. Gaz comes up to me as I hear Simon and Price start talking. 

“I’m sorry we lost contact.” He says leaning into me. I look at him shaking my head. 

“It’s fine you were busy, I was…” I don’t finish the sentence just spoon sugar into my cup. 

“I just couldn’t lie to you like that, I couldn’t stand seeing you hurt.” I looked at him, so he knew Simon was alive too. I scoffed.

“How long did you know?” I ask.

“About a week after Paris before we all went to Russia.” He said taking a step back as I bought the mugs and kettle to the table.

“Russia?” I asked. I sat down looking at Price.  

“Yeah I guess we should catch you up.” Price says sitting up straight. 

[unfinishedslurs]

do u love the colors of the comphet

When it’s over, when Henry Creel is dead and dust and they’ve emerged battered and triumphant. When she and Jonathan have ended things. When there is no more fighting to be done, she and Steve give it another go. 

She knows he’s going to ask the same way she knew in ‘83. There’s no waiting this time, no need to wonder if Jonathan might want her too. They gave it the old college try (He lied to her. He was lying to her for months, and she knew something was wrong before that. She thought they could work it out. She’s so fucking sick of lying to herself being lied to). 

He asks with wide, hopeful eyes, running a nervous hand through his hair. He doesn’t have anything to be nervous about. She made up her mind before he even asked. 

She can do it right this time. She can love this boy the way she wants to. The way he wants her to. They’ve both grown in the years since. She’s going to do this right. 

That’s the mantra she keeps in her head when he picks her up and spins her. I can do this. 

She can’t do this. 

It’s somehow the same and different from when they dated the first time. They’re going through the same motions, but there’s something lacking. They’re both older, more jaded. They’re not kids anymore, and it shows. 

They rarely kiss. He hesitates now in a way he didn’t before. Sex is something they don’t bring up at all. Eddie makes a crude joke once, something or other about what Nancy is like in bed, and she and Steve make eye contact. There’s something there, something like mutual understanding, before Robin smacks Eddie upside the back of the head and the moment breaks. She keeps thinking about it long after. Whatever it is that they shared, they don’t talk about it. 

Maybe they’re lying to themselves, both of them. Puppets going through the motions, too stubborn to admit they’re play acting as real people. Still, she can’t give this up. She can’t make the same mistakes all over again. 

Robin corners her two months into the relationship. Part of Nancy is surprised it took her this long. The rest of her is angry she brings it up at all. 

Saying she’s cornered might be doing her a disservice. They’re having a sleepover, painting their nails and talking about boys. Everything a girl is supposed to do. Except Robin is awkward and fumbling, and every name she brings up sounds like a question. Nancy only has Steve to talk about, and barely talks about him at all. 

Finally Robin sighs and puts down the nail polish. “I feel like this subject is making us both miserable,” she declares. “I don’t want to talk about boys, I was just doing it because I thought that’s what you’re supposed to do at girl sleepovers. I haven’t actually been to a sleepover since I was in middle school and the other girls decided I was weird, but I’m pretty sure the point is to have fun. This is not fun. This is agonizing. We should talk about something else.”

“Steve isn’t making me miserable!” She snaps, before realizing she sounds way too defensive. 

Robin peers at her. “Yeah, see, that’s not what I said. That’s not even a little bit close to what I said. Maybe we should talk about this instead. What’s the deal with you and Steve?”

“What deal? There’s no deal.” She turns around and rummages through the nail polish selection. Robin doesn’t exactly have a variety. Her options are red, dark red, and black. She chooses the brighter red with the absent thought that the black would look good on Robin, with her long fingers and dark eyeliner. Then she banishes that thought away. 

“There’s definitely some kind of deal.”

“There isn’t.”

“Nance.” 

She can’t help but turn around then, drawn in by the tone of her voice. There’s a glass wall inside of her, and someone is pounding on it, trying to get out. She wants Robin to see it. She wants someone to see behind the glass. There’s something in her trying to get out. 

“Nancy,” she says again, eyes searing into her soul, “are you happy?”

She smiles, fake and fixed on her face. The glass stays firmly in place.  “Of course I am,” she replies. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

The next time Robin wants to hang out, she’s busy with college preparations. 

It’s not just Robin. She thinks everyone can tell something’s wrong with her. Eddie gives her these looks every time she and Steve are in front of him, like he’s putting together a puzzle. Her mom keeps trying to talk to her. Jonathan keeps trying to talk to her. 

They know, she thinks wildly, every time. She doesn’t know what it is they know. She doesn’t want to find out. 

She avoids them all. 

When she and Steve go to dinner, the waitress captivates her. 

Long, dark hair in braids. Long fingers tapping against the notepad. Dark eyes in a dark face. She’s always loved brown eyes. Nancy has never been one to be jealous of other girls (lie, lie, lie), but suddenly heat floods her body. She wants to be as gorgeous as this woman. She wants her full lips, popping gum. She wants the woman’s swaying hips as she turns and leaves their table. She wants— she wants—

She tears her gaze away to find Steve already looking at her. 

The heat is dosed by the ice that fills her veins. All her senses go on high alert until she realizes he’s actually staring past her. She turns around to see the bartender. He’s handsome, she thinks, tall with tan skin and brown hair carefully styled. He’s talking to a customer, teeth shining as he laughs. 

When she turns back, Steve has firmly fixed his eyes on her. She could almost believe he’d never been staring at the bartender at all. 

There’s something there. Something just out of reach, something she could put a finger out and touch if she were braver. She doesn’t. There’s no gun in her hand here, no adrenaline to keep her going after it all falls apart. 

“What did your dumb boyfriend do this time?” Mike demands, storming in her room. Nancy has half a mind to yell at him to knock first before she registers his words. 

“Steve is- Steve is fine,” she says, startled. “He’s great, actually. Nothings wrong.“

“Then why are you so miserable all the time?” Mike accuses. 

“I am not miserable!”

“You are! You both are, and neither of you will tell anyone what’s wrong, or why-“

“I don’t know why!” She shrieks. Mike falls silent, eyes wide, and Nancy suddenly realizes she’s crying. 

“I don’t know why,” she repeats. “Everything is fine. He’s like, the perfect fucking boyfriend. It’s me, I’m the problem. There’s something wrong with me. There’s a beautiful boy who loves me, and I’m- I’m trying. I’m trying so hard to love him back, but I can’t. I can’t. There’s something wrong with me.” She’s desperate now, wiping away tears as she curls into a ball. She feels pathetic, crying in front of her little brother. She’s the oldest, she should be keeping it together, she shouldn’t let him see her like this. But she can’t help it. There’s something in her screaming to get out. 

Mike, with all the grace and bewilderment of a newborn deer, gingerly pats her shoulder. 

“Have you…talked to Steve about it?”

She gives him a cutting look. It’s probably not as effective as she wants it to be, with her red eyes and tear streaked face. Mike holds his hands up. 

“I’m just saying! He’s your boyfriend, you should talk to him. And if you don’t want him to be your boyfriend, you should really talk to him.”

“I want him to be my boyfriend, I just need to get past whatever this is—“

“Nancy,” Mike says. “It’s not just you. He’s miserable too.”

“Because of me. I just need to—“

Mike shakes his head. “I don’t think it is. If it were because of you, he’d be acting different. More…kicked puppy, or whatever. He’s just being weird,  and won’t tell anyone why. Dustin said he asked Robin, and she doesn’t even know.”

Nancy doesn’t have anything to say to that. 

“I think you need to talk to him,” he says again. “I think you need to talk to each other.”

“When did you get so smart?” She asks, instead of crying again. 

“I’ve always been smarter than you.”

She kicks him for that blatant lie.

“Are we holding onto a dead thing?” She asks out loud. 

He rolls over and looks at her. She’s worried she’s hurt his feelings, broken his heart again, killed any chance they have at a relationship, romantic or not. Then he snorts. 

“Robin got to you too, huh?” He asks, flopping back onto his back to look up at the sky. 

“Mike, actually.”

“Mike? That shithead? What does he know about relationship problems?”

“Are we having relationship problems?”

“I mean,” he says, wry twist to his mouth, “we haven’t had any arguments.”

“Nope.”

“Or general drama.”

“That might be debatable.”

“There’s no need to spice up our sex life.”

She snacks him for that one, and he laughs. She props herself up to look him in the eye. His face is more open than she’s seen it the entire time they’ve been dating. 

“I think you have to be in a relationship to have ‘relationship problems,’” she tells him. “Are we in a relationship?”

He visibly considers this. “I mean, I asked you out, and you said yes. And we never broke up.”

“We haven’t kissed in at least two weeks.”

“Did you want to?”

She takes a moment to think about it. “Not really,” she admits, and his face splits into a grin. 

“Not that you’re not still wonderful, Nancy Wheeler,” he says, teeth shining, “but I don’t think I want to kiss you either. Isn’t that weird?”

When they dated in high school, it was like he couldn’t stand being away from her. He spent every moment he could kissing her, wherever he could. Sometimes it felt almost like a performance he put on for the people around them, lifting her up and spinning her just so everyone would know how in love they were. It was stifling at times, feeling like something to prove. Still, it was how he was, so in love he could burst with it. 

Now, she wonders if it was always a performance. Maybe they’ve both been on a stage, and neither of them noticed the lights blinding them until now. 

“It is a little weird,” she says finally.

“Right?!”

He holds out a hand to shake, the other one firmly in his pocket. God, she wishes she could love him. “Good go, eh Wheeler?” He asks, smile crooked and shaky. 

She snorts. “We made ourselves and everyone around us miserable,” she points out. But she takes his hand. 

[opossum-rights]

Eyes on the Back of your Head

Rook Hunt x GnReader      2.3k Words

You feel like you’ve been going crazy lately, you can never shake off the feeling that you’re being watched. Little do you know it’s not just a feeling.

Warning: Pure cringe from several months ago that I dug up

Being a magic-less student in an institute designed to educate the best sorcerers in the land caused you to build quite a name for yourself. Those who didn't already know of you as the black sheep of NRC thought of you as the go-to remedy for the overblot crisis. Even now as things seemed relatively calm, you held somewhat of a celebrity status.  

Wherever you went there was always someone's eyes on you; during lunch you could feel them on the back of your head as you half listened to whatever Epel and Jack were chatting about, walking through campus to your next class you tried to ignore them by busying yourself with mediating some little argument Ace and Deuce were having, even when visiting your friends in their dorms you would insist on moving to their rooms, not being rid of them until the door clicked shut.

It was beginning to get tiring; you never got this much attention back in your own world.

Even if Ramshackle was a poor excuse for a living situation, with walls that did nothing to keep the cold out at night and floorboards that would creek if so much as a mouse ran across, you found yourself releasing all the tension from the day as soon as you caught sight of it. That was, until a couple nights ago.

Homework done, chores taken care of, you felt like you could finally breathe. That's when you felt the familiar feeling of being watched. Looking over a shoulder, Grim was snoring away on the old couch as he always did when you brought out schoolwork.

It could've been the ghosts, but they haven't been around lately.  It was pretty late, perhaps it's just Malleus waiting outside for you or one of the first years stopping by. Although, both of those occurrences follow up a text or warning of some kind. If it was one of them, though, you figured they wouldn't want to be held waiting.

You let out sigh and make your way to the main doors, creaking open no matter how careful you try to be with them for the sake of Grim's nape time. There's no one around. Not in the vast yard or down the path leading to the rest of campus.

"Weird, guess I’m starting to get used to how weird this place is," You mutter, thinking that if there was someone outside that they would take the hint of you going back in and show themselves.

But you stood outside for a couple minutes, thinking how weird it is that the feeling seems to be coming from inside.

The feeling eventually faded away and you were able to get to sleep at a reasonable time.

•••

The next night wasn't free from any strange occurrences either. Like the last, you got the intense feeling of being watched inside your home. Grim must notice it this time as well, being quieter than usual with his fur standing on end.

He got the more expensive brand of tuna that night to try and lighten the mood, and like usual, food proved to be the most reliable tool you had to deal with him. With Grim chatting away with his mouth full in the common room, you take the empty packages back to the kitchen to dispose of them.

Grabbing a water bottle from the fridge, you lean on the counter and watch as the trees disappear in the night, starting from the back and slowly making its way towards you until you see nothing but the thin crack in the window. 

That's strange, you could have sworn that wasn't there before. The window was right above the sink, so you spent a lot of time gazing out of it as you mindlessly washed the dishes.

It was a pretty long one to, not something you could easily overlook. You lean closer and gently scratch the glass to see if which side of the window it's on, only for it to catch onto your finger.

Oh, you think to yourself, that's not a crack, silly, it's a strand of hair. You immediately cringe back and shack your hand to get it off. You could tell it wasn't Grim's, and it surely wasn't yours.

The blond strand falls to the ground and lands in the space under the cupboard full of dust. You grab the water and quickly make your way back to the common room, taking the empty bowl from Grim who's too busy falling into a food coma after his meal to notice the look of unease on your face.

Not wanting to get close to the window, or the kitchen in general, you place the bowl on an end table in the entrance of the room, scoop your cat up, and speed walk upstairs and into your room.

You deposit Grim on the bed, go over to the windows, and pull the curtains close with such force that you almost think they won't be able to handle it.

Making your way to the door you lock it and rattle the knob for a while to make sure it's working, then unlock it to do it again.

Even after the feeling fades and you're settled under the covers, Grim close to your side, you can't relax enough to sleep.

•••

The next day Epel mentions your shabby appearance at lunch, saying that Vil would throw a fit if he showed up to class looking like that. It makes sense, you stumbled through putting on your uniform this morning and the bags under your eyes don't help.

"I've just been a bit stressed lately. Haven't been getting much sleep cause of it, you know?" You try your best to send him a nonchalant smile.

"If you want something to help with that, I'm sure we could find something back in my dorm room. Vil's always giving me these creams to try, and I haven't even opened half of them," You accept his offer, wanting an excuse not to go back to Ramshackle when the day ends.

•••

You manage to avoid running into Vil as you made your way through Pomefiore, thankfully as he's started to take you under his wing in the same vein as Epel since his overblot. Feeling the calmest you've had in a while, you take a seat on his bed with Grim sitting in your arms as Epel rummages around in a drawer.

"Here's some stress relief stuff for your skin, not know how helpful it's gonna be with what you're dealing with, but it smells nice at least," He hands you a good-sized bottle of lotion which you gratefully accept.

"I'm sure it'll work fine. I'm already feeling better being able to hang out with you," A small blush spreads across his face as you rub a dollop of the lotion into your arm, taking a sniff. It's nice, has a sort of pine smell.

You chat for a while about Epel's upcoming magift game; he beams when you promise to be there, not mentioning that Leona would give you a hard time if you didn't. When Grim starts complaining that he's hungry, Epel offers to walk you back to the mirror. You're having a nice time, despite how weird things have been lately.

•••

All good things must come to an end, you suppose.

As the three of you pass a tree in the courtyard, something, or someone, jumps from a branch and lands right Infront of your path. You let out a little yell and stumble backwards, losing your footing and about to fall flat on your back, but the person from the tree quickly surges forward and grabs your arm to pull you back up.

"My my, caught you off guard, did I? To be expected from a hunter such as moi!" Rook apologizes for startling you, not letting his grip on your arm up even after you regain your balance.

Epel taps on your shoulder and hand you back the lotion, which must have been dropped during your scare. Rook moves his hand from your arm to his chin, giving you a once over as a questioning look shows on his face.

"Forgive me for saying, but has something been bothering you mon ami?" He glances at the bottle in your hand and messy uniform before moving back to your face.

"They've just been tired lately, gave them some stuff for it. I'm actually taking them back to the mirror right now," Epel states as he shifts back to your side, which you're thankful for, a bit too tired to deal with the eccentric blonde.

"Ah, Is that so? Well, then I wish you both a good evening, au revoir!" Rook steps aside as you and Epel pass. You can feel him staring as your back, a familiar feeling that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand.

•••

That night all you grab for dinner is a bag of chips, finding you're not that hungry and preferring to spend as little time as possible in the kitchen. As usual, the feeling of eyes sitting somewhere you can't see returns.

Earlier than usual you take Grim to bed, following your routine from the previous night. You stand Infront of the mirror in the bedroom and rub in some of Epel's lotion on the tensest parts of your face. You close your eyes, breath in and out, until you feel as relaxed as you can.

It was a nice day earlier, but now you can hear the wind howl past, pushing against the walls making a creaking sound that's a little too similar to the floor makes. As a result, you are too scared to sleep.

You feel crazy.

There hasn't been any concrete proof that anything strange is happening. Sure, there was the hair, but it's an old house, and it might've blown in from somewhere. The feeling, you're just not used to the attention and decidedly do not like it.

The creaking, from the wind outside. The wind that's apparently targeting the lower floor. It sounds like it's right under you. That shouldn't be possible, the way the dorm is built you should be right above the middle of the common room, not even close enough to the side walls.

Focusing more on the creaking under you, it comes to mind that it's louder than the noises coming from the walls. Despite the cold you can feel yourself sweat. The creaking moves, your eyes widen. It's on the stairs now, there's no denying that it's the floorboards now.

Each stair creaks under the weight of whoever's in your home, now settling on the second floor.

You try to keep your breath steady. It moves closer, they are in no rush.

You feel your body tremble. It stops outside your door.

You feel tears fall down your face.

There is no more creaking that night

•••

In the morning you try to go about things as usual to not upset Grim. You put off leaving the room until he falls after jumping to reach the knob, complaining about being hungry as usual. You hold your breath as you move downstairs, constantly checking over your shoulder.

Nothing is there. Despite your heart stopping every time you glimpse your own shadow, you desperately want to leave. You grab Grim, who grumbles that it's too early to leave yet. You don't look back as you close the doors behind you.

•••

"Are you sure you're okay, you look worse than yesterday," Epel looks concerned. The bags under your eyes are worse now, the area having a puffy look from your crying. You completely forgot some parts of your usual uniform, and you've been jumping at the slightest sound.

You feel bad for making him worry, confessing that you think someone broke into your dorm last night. He jumps up, immediately checking to see if you're visibly hurt. You look too shaken up to be joking.

"Come on, we need to get Crewel, or Crowly, or someone!" He starts to set off, but you quickly grab his hand, begging him to sit back down. You're not even a hundred percent sure that there was someone in the first place. You tell him that with exams coming up you don't want to bother the staff. He looks into your eyes, tearing up and despite, and sits back down.

He's not letting it go completely though, declaring that you're spending the night in his dorm, you're not going back to Ramshackle until him and some of the others check it out. You slump in your seat and nod.

•••

With exams many of the Pomefiore students are in the library or in their rooms studying, leaving you and Epel alone in the kitchen. You didn't stop at Ramshackle after classes, so all you have with you is your school bag, with your gym uniform as something to sleep in.

Grim was shipped off with Ace and Deuce, Epel saying that Vil banned any type of animal that sheds and that you two needed to study for a class you only had with him. They reluctantly agreed, you feel bad for Riddle already.

The air is tense, neither of you wanting to start the talk that needs to be had. Instead, you make uncomfortable small talk about how you're going to explain your sleepover to Vil. The conversation dies out, with Epel excusing himself to the restroom.

You're left alone. What are you doing?

You're getting Epel all worried for no reason and taking his attention away from studying. You feel shame rise in your chest, but feel a chill rise up your back. You look behind you, but there's no one there. The longer you sit here the worse the feeling gets.

You figure Epel wouldn't mind if you just went to wait for him in his room and quickly stand and grab your bag without pushing back your chair. As you move towards the dorm rooms, you hear the sound of a chair being set back into place and hitting a table. You speed up.

You look behind you, but nothing's there. You start to panic. The picture-perfect hallways make you confused, not knowing if you're by the first-year rooms or somewhere else. You swore Epel's room was this way, you can't afford to get it wrong.

Finally, you find his door. Wasting no time in rushing in, you turn and slam it shut. You try to control your breathing as you wait. You feel the blood leave your face as you turn and see bows and arrows hung on the wall. You know exactly who's room this is.

A pair of arms circles around your waist, keeping your from moving as if you could find the courage to in the first place. You feel his breath on the back of your neck.

"Mon ami, you gave a great chase! Truly reminiscent of a panicked little rabbit," Rook buries his face in your hair, smelling it as he rubs his thumbs on your stomach.

You feel sick.

"How sorry I am for your current state. That rotting building you call home didn't make it easy for me, but that matters not, as we're finally together!" He rocks you back and forth.

You feel his mouth by your ear, a tongue moving around the shell.

"Now that you’re here, we can discuss our happily ever after."

[j2zara]

YAAAAAAY EHEH I GET TO SEND YOU A BUNCH OF ASKS 💖💖💖💖💖(<- these ones are just me being excited)

💖📥👀📊🍰🌝💻🧠

HIIIII SORRY THIS TOOK ALL DAY im so exhausted which is why i feel like my answers are not the best but here u go

💖 What do you like most about your own writing?

Argh…. Ngl i sent this one to more than one person in the circle of perverts bc I want to force ppl to say nice things abt themselves and now i gotta do the same thing. I feel like my answer before this year would’ve been my dialogue!!!!!!! Like. I do think i’m good at that. It’s hard to even say that because I feel like when I do enjoy a good quip and i feel like whenever i reread my original stuff im like “oh. I’m so marvel brained”. I don’t think dialogue is my strength in cloneverse tho.  At least. I don’t think it stands out. But otherwise that’s what i would land on.

Maybe it’s bc i’ve been in a very sorry for myself slump lately bc my current wip is giving me such a struggle but i don’t even know. Before now and my latest wip driving me crazy I would’ve said. Maybe coherence or theming? Like i don’t even know if thats a thing i CAN say like is it possible to be good at themes? Sorry im being so hard on myself rn I think if i were to look at my writing i would say i think it’s halfway decent but i don’t know the answer to the question…

📥 What is your fave fic to receive comments/messages on?

Oh this is an interesting one. For such a long time the answer would’ve been my old Talentswap fic for DR, tbh it always was like. Surprising and honestly kinda nice to get like a random comment of someone being like ‘hey i just discovered this! Sad its not updating but i really enjoyed it!” something like that. And I think b/c it was multichap it was very interesting and different when ppl were reading Almost for sure.

My secret weird answer is IYWD. Like. I’m at peace with the fact that its practically dead and nobody is gonna find it again i guess but a small part of me still considers it my favorite thing i’ve done in a long time so nobody does comment anymore but. That would be the thing i secretly kinda want. I’ll take literally anything tho obviously i love anybody that ever comments on anything.

👀 Do you have any WIPs that you would never let see the light of day? If yes, what are they about?

I have a Love is Blind au for a fandom I’m not gonna mention. Idk i might’ve mentioned it somewhere but eh. Its like ten chapters but only the first 5-ish are done i’m kinda 

And i’ve talked abt this this isn’t really a. Like. Oh I’m hiding this forever thing but. I have a DR Togakure hookup fic that’s written like. To take place during a naegiri wedding like in the post first game canon. And it is one of my favorite things i’ve ever written even tho it is smut, ngl my friends have been trying to convince me to post it and i might but im genuinely terrified nobody is gonna read it and im gonna be. Sad about it

📊 Current number of WIPs

Lol um… lj3porter fic. I’m two sentences into twelfth night coded j2 wooing Jace for Porter fic. Unfinished creeper Jace + j2porter fic…  a Jace topping Zara zarajaceporter fic. A fic that is in the IYWD verse that’s like a prequel that’s normal SB related. And if we could old fandoms I have semi abandoned talent swap (the ch 3.3 doc is like 10k lmao). Love is blind au.

If we’re counting original projects. My fantasy pseudo taming retelling. Horror comedy / locked room mystery called Date / Die. I have a. Sports romance (don’t look at me). And my weird lofty rom com thing that is this decade spanning story and used to be abt a “platonic” romance but idk I was like. They’re best friends they’re the most important ppl in the world to each other and they like having sex does that make this a normal romance. Maybe. Maybe not.

So ten. Yikes.

🍰 Name one of your fave comfort fics (doesn’t have to be your all time fave).

This is such a weird pull b/c i haven’t read it in years but Wing Man is a Bokuaka fic thats one of my fav of all time that makes me so happy idk its so like. Sweet and tbh i feel bad i never commented on it i really should bc they deserve to know i still think about it. but i just don’t reread fic all that often even my favs.

Actually that’s a lie i just remembered! I’ll cite something recent and i’m a little shy to cite something from the circle of perverts but also this is completely sincere i know i jokingly call @innskeep bambi’s LJ3 fic the perfect piece of fiction all the time but i do reread it… I just like them. I think it’s really cute and i like my little guys…  I love getting J3’s pov so much like i genuinely think its so comforting and special…

🌝 Who is one character you haven’t yet written for that you would like to?

I won’t lie I have a total DurDawn soft spot so like. I do think it wouldn’t fun to write something small for them. Also fucking hilarious as zukkacore that I’ve never written zukka and like. In my heart I would like too but they’re almost too precious for that? It’s hard to explain. Actually another answer might be for Mailee I actually think Mailee is soooooo underrated as a ship bc they have so much potential to be good for each other that wasn’t able to foster under azula’s thumb so I like that slightly toxic edge 

💻 Do you do research for your fics? What’s the deepest dive you’ve done?

I do a little bit of research but honestly not at much as i should. Last super deep dive i did was on the different filipino mythologies and history throughout the different regions bc ithink that subject is so interesting. but that has nothing to do with the sb circle that was for my own stuff. Lately I had to look up a little bit of elvish for something sb related lol. im such a fake fan of LOTR i love it but i’ve never actually read the books

🧠 What’s an idea you have that you can’t quite call a WIP yet?

A few! I’ve talked abt Jace hireling au I think that would be fun. And I joke abt Clone gamechanger au all the time and I SAID I wanted to try and make it work so like. Maybe. I’d love to try clone gamechanger au i think its funny and cute and i wanna do something indulgent.I feel like i’m forgetting something. Jess has real estate in j2porter vegas roleplay so i kinda wanna try maybe doing J2porter 50s housewife roleplay as a sort of sequel? I still like the idea of doing a You’ve Got Mail Shop Around the Corning fic. And. I feel so so so so indulgent wanting to write LJ3 stuff but like i just like them. I don’t know what i would wann write for them but i just like them

[something-tofightfor]

Well Oiled (Kinktober #6)

Pairing: Jack Daniels x female reader (Agent Cider) - ‘Buried’ Pairing

Word count: 11,076

Kinktober prompt: Temperature play

Rating: EXPLICIT. But also sort of tame for a kinktober story? 

Warnings: Mentions of previous injury, needles, immobilization (brief)

Summary: When you and Jack come home from New York, Ginger’s got a little something waiting for you. Yes, it’s a “welcome home” present ... no, it’s not anything typical.

Author’s Note:

I haven’t written a lengthy piece for Jack and Cider in a LONG TIME... and once I started writing this one, I couldn’t stop. 

It takes place about 7 months after Buried’s ending (even though we aren’t there yet) ... so this is yet another sneak peek into their future. 

Thank you all for being patient with me on these two; I definitely feel more inspired to get back to them now.

Want to read Buried? Check out the masterlist here!

“Stop playing with that.” You leaned over, speaking quietly into his ear. “This night is for you, Jack. You should be paying attention.” 

It took him a few seconds but the man finally acknowledged you with a sigh, pushing the candle back toward the center of the table and then lifting his hand to stare at his fingers. You watched the wax on the tips harden and then crumble as Jack rubbed his fingers together, littering the tabletop with small, irregularly shaped remnants. “I know.” He didn’t say anything else, though, the man’s eyes forward and focused on where a small group of the other Statesman New York employees were gathered, talking amongst themselves. 

“Why do I get the feeling you’d rather be anywhere but here?” You tried again, sighing as you settled back into your seat, fingertips drumming against the tabletop. He looks unsettled. He looks … like he did in Seattle.

“Because I’d rather be anywhere but here.” Jack said your name, turning his head to look at you. “I was barely here for a full year, and they’re treatin’ me like -” 

“They’re celebrating that you’re good at your job, Jack.” Meeting his eyes, you shrugged. “This job, the real job, all of it.” His lips twitched and you continued, reaching for his hand. “They’re going to miss you when you go back to Kentucky, and that shouldn’t surprise you.” Time to pull out the big guns. Head shaking back and forth, you squeezed his hand. “Look, I know you don’t like the idea of this all being for you, but… it is. And you can either sit here and ignore everyone while I get up and socialize by myself, or you and I can go and play nice with these people for another hour and a half before we can leave without it being weird.”

“Really?” His eyes widened with hope, Jack’s lips parting so that the tip of his tongue was visible. “I thought you’d want to stay until -”

“Jack, I’d love to stay until they close the bar and kick us out, but if you’re not happy, you’re not happy, and I’d much rather be home with you.” The words rolled off of your tongue with ease, unlike they had in the first weeks after you’d arrived in New York with him. “But we can’t leave this early since you are the guest of honor. So, option one is for you to stay sitting at this table. I’ll get up and go make excuses about how you’re just worrying about what happens with all the work you’ve done here when we get back to Kentucky. Option two is that we both get up and you smile and pretend -”  

“Hour and a half?” You nodded, watching as a small smile tugged on his lips, betraying his non-committal tone. “And then we can go?” Another nod, and Jack leaned in even closer, taking a breath. “Alright.” Jack closed the distance between the two of you, lips finding the corner of your mouth and lingering there. He raised one hand to cradle the back of your head before pulling away, his touch immediately comforting you like it had so many times before. “Alright, Agent. Let’s go be friendly.” 

—

As promised, the two of you stepped through the doorway of his apartment under two hours later. You used the toe of one boot to push a packed box to the side, giving you more open space as you entered the room. 

He was in a better mood, mostly thanks to the few drinks that the two of you had enjoyed from the bar - but you knew that it was also because after that night, Jack wouldn’t ever have to see most of the people that had been at the party again. And it’s not that he doesn’t like them, it’s just … they’re not our people.

You were leaving for Kentucky two days later, Champ calling the two of you back to headquarters after nearly six months of you being on location with Jack - and both of you were excited. 

For him, it meant a chance to step completely away from the distillery side of the company. For you, it meant getting back to the routine you’d desperately missed after being sidelined because of your memory loss. And it means proving that I can still do what they hired me to do. It also meant that when you were sent out on paired missions, you’d be with Jack every single time. Thanks to Champ … and to Jack. 

But before then, you and Jack had two full days off to spend together. And we’re going to make the most of this. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” You undid the zipper on your boot, sliding it off before doing the same to the second one, leaving them by the door and next to his. “I told you that everyone was just trying to tell you how much they appreciate what you’ve been able to do since you got here.” 

“I know.” He was in the kitchen, the man leaning into the open refrigerator door and grabbing two bottles of beer. “I just… being here has been a constant reminder of me runnin’ from Kentucky. I’m just glad that it’s…” He sighed, setting the bottles down on the counter and eyeing you. “Glad it’s over. It’s not the job here I didn’t like, it’s everything that … being here makes me think about.

You knew that he meant more than just leaving Kentucky for an undetermined period of time. It’s Stephanie and the other women he was with while he was here. You also knew that he was referring to keeping St. Paul from you for months and not being able to do a damn thing about it. But he has to stop beating himself up over all of it.

“None of that matters anymore.” You crossed the living room and reached for one of the beers, twisting the cap off and taking a drink, fingers wrapped around the icy-cold bottle neck. “I have to admit though, seeing you do actual business for the last few months has been… nice.” 

“I don’t think anyone’s ever accused me of bein’ nice before.” Jack arched a brow and sipped from his beer, nose wrinkling as he swallowed. “But I guess I’m not surprised it’s you that did it first.” 

“Love you too, Jack.” Reaching out, you clinked the neck of your bottle with his and tilted your head back, taking another drink. “So. We’re just about packed up. What do you want to do for the next two days? We’re going to be really busy as soon as we get back to Kentucky.” 

There were a lot of options - and plenty of things that you hadn’t had  the opportunity to do while in the city, but the truth was that you didn’t want to do any of them. “We are.” Jack stepped around you and into the living room, his hand trailing over your lower back and sending a surge of warmth through you as he urged you to follow him. “Champ already sent over the itinerary.” 

“Yeah, I got that too.” You dropped down onto the couch next to him, settling in against the arm of it. In the same motion, you lifted your legs to drape them over his, sighing as you got comfortable. “They waited on starting with the recruits until we got back. And it’s probably because he wanted you there for it, which I understand.” You drank again and then frowned. “Those training days are long, though. I remember being exhausted by the end of them.” Exhausted and overwhelmed.

“Even the ones you spent with me?” He raised a brow, smirking. “Learnin’ to shoot isn’t supposed to be tiring.”

“No, I was exhausted by being around you for ten hours a day for two weeks straight, Whiskey.” He snorted at that, gently slapping your calf before he wrapped his hand around it, squeezing. His hands are so big. “And we did a lot more in those sessions than teach me to shoot.” He hummed in agreement, the heat of his fingers reassuring against your leg. “It’s going to be interesting going back.” 

“Yeah?” He sipped his drink again, head turning toward you. “Why’s that?” You know why. But it took you a few seconds to reply, your eyes locked with Jack’s.

“With the exception of the few solo missions you’ve been on, you and I have been together almost constantly for the last seven months.” Picking at the label on the beer bottle with one finger, to give yourself more time, you shrugged. “Ever since we got back from that retreat. We had normal schedules here, Jack. We worked in the same office every day. I… got used to not having to share you.” 

That was something that you hadn’t ever wanted to admit to the man before. Not because you were ashamed at how much he meant to you, but because you didn’t like seeming needy. But that’s only if he realizes exactly what I mean by sharing him. 

He stayed silent for long moments and then said your name, tone laced with concern that also filled his eyes, his hand tightening on your leg when he spoke. “You know you’re only the second woman in my life that’s never had to worry about sharin’ me, right?” 

His words hit you hard, and for a few seconds, your chest was so tight that you couldn’t reply. I do, but it’s not that simple. “I know. And I know what we do as Statesman Agents, Jack. What it requires sometimes, but … it’s been nice not having to think about that.” 

It had hurt enough before the two of you had been together to know when he was tasked with a “hands on” mission with a female target. But even those assignments hadn’t hurt as much as knowing he was with other women in his free time. Because he was single and he had every right to be. “Yeah.” He sighed, his eyes darkening briefly, the man’s expression shifting from contemplation into a deep frown. “Yeah, it has.” 

“I didn’t mean to ruin the night.” You drank again, savoring the taste of the beer on your tongue before you went on. “I’m excited to go back home. Now that it’s so close, though,  it’s real.” He stayed quiet, his fingers flexing around the bottle he held, and then Jack leaned forward, setting it down on the table before holding his hands out to you. 

You reacted right away, setting your drink down, too before repositioning yourself so that you were seated on his lap, your back against the left side of his chest. Jack’s arm wound around your shoulders, pulling you closer to his body, and when he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead, you felt the understanding in the gesture. 

“You didn’t ruin anything.” Jack mumbled the reassurance, his fingers dropping from your shoulder to your bicep, the chilled pads making contact with your skin and sending a small shiver through you. “I can’t wait to be back home in Kentucky with you, Agent.” 

You couldn’t wait either, and as nervous as you were about what came next, it was hard to worry much when you were in Jack’s arms, the scent of him thick in the air. It’s going to be different. Nothing changes just because we’re going back. It won’t … won’t be how it was before. “If you say so.” It was almost too quiet for either of you to hear, but you knew he had, Jack’s hold on you tightening as he kissed you again, that time on your temple. 

His mustache tickled your skin and then, only moments later you felt him smiling, his mouth straying even lower and hovering just in front of your ear. “How ‘bout we go into the bedroom and I show you so? 

You’d rarely been able to tell the man no - and you certainly weren’t about to start that night. “Alright Jack.” Pulling away and raising one hand to comb your fingers through his hair, you winked. “But only if you think you can.” 

He grinned, the light coming back into his eyes, and only seconds later you were both on your feet, Jack leading you down the hallway and toward the bedroom, fingers linked with yours. 

— 

Being back in Kentucky was exhausting, but Jack wouldn’t ever admit it to anyone but himself. You’re gettin’ old, Daniels.

Flying back in one of the Statesman jets, Jack passed on the opportunity to sit in the cockpit in favor of a few more hours alone with you, and things had seemed almost normal. But you’d been right - as soon as you were back on distillery property, the relatively easy day to day routine you’d had in New York had all but disappeared. 

Neither of you were scheduled for an actual assignment until recruit training was completed, but that didn’t mean either of you had down time. Though you’d helped in previous years, the current class was the first one that you were actually responsible for leading training sessions with. The result? Both of you getting pulled to opposite wings of the facility on a daily basis. 

And after the lax schedules you’d both adopted in New York, by the time the two of you made it back to one of the apartments for the night you were drained. Often, you managed to do nothing more than shower, eat, and fall asleep together on the couch before one of you woke and urged the other to bed. 

It had become your new routine over the previous week, and Jack hated it. Every fuckin’ minute of it. But it won’t be like this forever. Jack scrubbed a hand over his face, checking the time on the clock hanging on the far wall. As soon as we get through these new kids, we’ll… we’ll be fine. 

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of someone saying his name, and Jack turned to face the recruit that he’d spent the week with - a young woman whose codename was Midori - one hand on his hip. “Yeah?” 

She was smart and talented, with stunningly pretty dark red hair, and in the earlier days, Jack would have flirted shamelessly. He still had flirted with Midori, much in the same way he had with you while working with you - showing her different distraction techniques that potential enemies might use and trying to knock her off kilter. But there was nothing behind it - the flirtation was merely for training purposes, and he felt no sadness about that fact. 

“What’s next?” She tightened her ponytail and then flexed her fingers, wetting her lips as she stared up at Jack. “We’ve only got about a half hour left today. Can we go back to the hand to hand? I almost disarmed you the other day, and I’d like to try again, Agent Whiskey.” He watched the way she looked at him - enthusiasm veiled thinly with confidence, and Jack couldn’t stop the smile from appearing on his face, his dark eyes crinkling at the corners in appreciation of her boldness. 

“Sure. We -” He was cut off by the sound of the far door opening, Jack’s eyes moving toward it at the same time Midori turned on one heel to look for the source of the sound. You walked in and gave both of them a broad smile, straightening your shirt as you crossed the room. Hello, gorgeous. Jack’s breath caught, the man swallowing with an audible click before he said anything. “What’re you doin’ here, Agent? Shouldn’t you be with Mezcal?” 

“I should.” You rolled your eyes, finally reaching where the two of them were standing, and Jack felt his heart rate quicken as you reached out, fingertips brushing over his bare forearm before you pulled it back, crossing both arms over your chest. “But he ate something that didn���t agree with him at breakfast, and even Ginger can’t immediately cure the symptoms of food poisoning. I’ve been catching up on paperwork since a little after lunch.” 

“Wait, he got sick? From the cafeteria here?” Midori’s eyes widened. “I feel fine, though. What did -” You waved her off, rolling your eyes. 

“Mezcal didn’t eat in the caf this morning. From what he told me and Ginger, he ate leftovers before he came to train… and those leftovers were sitting out all night.” Yuck. Jack winced in sympathy, remembering the days when he’d been Mezcal’s age and he’d assumed his stomach was made of cast iron. “So we’re gonna see how he feels tomorrow. Ginger gave him a shot to stop the symptoms, but she said he needs to sleep it off.” Yuck. 

“So you’re here to watch me train with Whiskey?” Midori grinned at you, excitement in her voice. “I was just telling him that I want to try to disarm him again. I almost had him on Wednesday, and I think I can do it if I try today” His eyes flicked to yours and Jack watched as you tried - and failed - to fight back a smile. 

“I’m positive you can, Midori.” You gestured to the open space behind them, stepping back so that you could take a seat on one of the tables that lined the wall. “Don’t let me interrupt.” 

Jack watched as the younger woman turned away and headed for the center of the room, stretching. He took that opportunity to step to where you were and then reached out to touch your chin, taking it between two fingers. “This is a nice surprise.” You parted your lips slightly and Jack heard your breath catch at the way he was touching you in front of someone else. Still getting used to this too, Agent. 

“Yeah. Sucks that he got sick, but I’m happy to be here and get to see you while it’s still light out.” But you didn’t dwell on that statement, gesturing to his recruit and cocking your head to one side, eyes flashing. “Go. Let me watch you get taken down a peg or two, and then we can get dinner before you go and do your reports.” 

He grinned at you, nodding once. Without speaking, Jack followed Midori to the open floor, getting into position. She was a good six inches shorter and fifty pounds lighter than him, but she was smart. Jack knew firsthand  that like you, there was more to her than met the eye, and she’d actually come dangerously close to besting him multiple times before. And this is just the first week. He gave her a lopsided smile, urging her closer with one raised brow. She’s going to be great for us by the time she’s in the field. 

“Alright, Midori.” His hand moved toward his hip, fingers hovering over the hilt of his training knife. “Show me what you’ve got.” 

— 

Twenty five minutes later, the three of you were in the medical bay, one of Jack’s large hands clutching his opposite shoulder as the two of you talked excitedly with each other. 

“You saw that, right? I actually flipped him over my shoulder, and -” 

“You did!” You laughed, sneaking a look at Jack and then returning your gaze to the girl’s face. “You caught him off guard, and that definitely helped, but I think the only person that I’ve ever seen do that to him before was Tequila, and …” You pressed your lips together. “And J… Whiskey doesn’t like to talk about that, so…” 

“I’m right here.” He winced, stopping mid shrug. “I can hear every damn word you’re both saying. You two sure like to talk about this shit, don’t you.” Blowing a raspberry at him and waving him off with one hand, you sighed.

“You’re going to be fine, Jack. Ginger’s going to give you a shot and your arm’s going to feel better in about 45 seconds.” You rolled your eyes. “Let the girl have a win. Getting one over on you after less than a week of training is a big deal.” He knew you were right, but Jack still grumbled about it, easing himself down and onto his back and keeping his eyes on the ceiling.

 The door opened and Ginger stepped inside, the woman immediately moving to a drawer and beginning to pull things out of it. “I haven’t done my medical rotation yet.” Midori actually sounded nervous, clearing her throat twice. “I don’t know what all of this stuff we have does.” 

“You’ll learn soon enough. You didn’t really hurt him, at least not long term. Nothing’s even dislocated, it’s probably just a deep tissue bruise, so I’ll give him a muscle repair shot, and that’s that.” Ginger straightened up, the syringe in one gloved hand. “He’ll be better in a couple minutes. So you’ll see what these things can do before you even know everything that we have at our disposal.”

“It’s my bad shoulder, Ginger.” Jack spoke up, still staring at the ceiling because he didn’t want to look at any of you. “The one I hurt in St. Paul.” Trying to keep Cider from falling. 

He heard you gasp and at that, Jack did sit up, his eyes immediately finding yours. Aw, shit. There was pain there, etched deep in your expression as you absorbed his words, and the man wished desperately that he could eliminate it for good. “I didn’t know it was …” You swallowed hard. “I didn’t know it still bothered you.”

“It’s like your leg.” He paused. “Only bothers me sometimes.” You didn’t say anything else, and when Ginger stepped between the two of you, a soft smile on her face and holding the needle up, Jack was somewhat relieved for the distraction. “Gonna fix me up now, Doc?”

“It’d take more than a shot to fix you, Jack.” She spoke quietly, pushing his sleeve up with one hand and then inserting the tip of the needle before she depressed the plunger. “But it’s a start.” Even he had to laugh at that, Jack’s chin dropping toward his chest as he flexed his fingers, palm pressed flat against the top of one thigh. “You may want to take it easy tomorrow, but as long as it feels alright, there’s no reason to skip a full day of training.” 

Ginger turned away, setting the needle down and then snapping her gloves off, attention going back to the two of you. “Thank you, Ginger.” You sighed and Jack watched as you repositioned your shoulders, standing up straight. “And even though you got his bad arm, Midori, it’ll take a lot more than getting knocked onto his ass to keep Whiskey down.” 

“Well…” She took a deep breath and then looked at Jack, the concern in her eyes still there but joined by a real smile on her lips. “I look forward to trying again soon.” I do too. 

A few minutes later, Midori was gone and it was just you, Jack and Ginger in the room, the second woman busy typing notes into her datapad. “How’s it feel, Jack?” She glanced up, waiting. “Better?”

“Yeah.” He stretched the arm out, lifting and then lowering it a few times. “Much. Still got that dull ache, but that’s been there for a while now. Doesn’t bother me much.” 

“That, Jack, is because you played hero for hours before even thinking about treating yourself.” She smiled, setting the pad down and crossing her arms. “And it’s a constant reminder that you were successful.” 

It was - and the three of you knew it - but none of you spoke again, even though your eyes widened as you looked between the two of them. Aw, c’mon Ginger. Don’t make her feel more guilty. The room stayed quiet until Ginger cleared her throat, your name leaving her lips before Jack’s, the woman gesturing for the two of you to follow her into the hallway. “Where we goin’?” 

“I have something for you. It was supposed to be a welcome back present, but now …” She laughed again, pausing in front of her office door. “Now it’s going to serve more than one purpose.” What? She disappeared into the office and left the two of you in the hallway, Jack’s good arm around your shoulders. He wasn’t surprised when you leaned in closer, briefly turning your head and pressing your cheek to his chest. He tightened his hold on you when you let out a shuddering breath, Jack’s mouth opening to tell you not to worry, but Ginger’s return interrupted him. “We’ve been developing some new tech while you two were gone, and it’s ready to be tested out.”

“Tested?” You questioned her, the woman reappearing with two bottles and a sheet of paper in her hands. “What do you mean?”

“We have to stay ahead of our missions. And sometimes…” She held out the bottles, waiting until you took them from her to keep speaking. “Sometimes we have to go a step beyond just tricking them to get what we need.”

“And we’re supposed to use this… whatever it is?” Jack looked down at what you held, not understanding. “Ginger, you -” 

“Think of it as my way of letting you know that I hope your return to Kentucky is enjoyable.” She winked, lips twitching. “Something there for both of you right now, so you should take the rest of the night off and enjoy it. Make sure you read the instructions though.” 

He still didn’t understand but you agreed, taking a deep breath. “If you say so, Ginger.” You stepped out from under his arm, turning toward the elevators. “Come on, Jack. Looks like we’ve got some homework.”

He wasn’t about to disagree, but before you’d gotten too far, Ginger called out to him. “Jack?” He stopped, glancing back over his shoulder and meeting the woman’s eyes. “That other tech you asked me about?” He froze, mouth and eyes going wide. Yeah? “It’s just about done. We’re testing out the second version, and -” She grinned, reaching up to push some of her hair away from her forehead, followed by adjusting the way her glasses perched on her nose. “ - and it’s going to work exactly like we talked about.” 

“That’s amazing, Ginger.” He laughed, the weariness leaving his body, even though the ache in his arm remained. “Let me know when it’s ready to go?” She assured him that she would, and when the woman had disappeared back into her office, Jack urged you forward again, his steps lighter as you walked side by side. “C’mon Agent. Let’s go and see what this stuff does.” 

— 

You could feel the confusion rolling off of Jack’s body, his eyes flicking back and forth between the bottles on the table and the paper in your hand, mouth set into a thin line. But why is that his reaction? He should be excited about this. 

“So it’s just … massage oil?” He blinked, tilting his head. “Two different kinds? How is -” 

“It would have come in handy in Mexico.” You grinned, holding up the bottle with the label marked cold. “Remember when Dom twisted his knee? I could have used this to bring the swelling down instead of going to the actual hospital.” 

Jack remembered it vividly - watching from thirty feet and two oversized umbrellas away as you’d tended to the man’s swollen kneecap, your hands moving over his tanned skin with practiced ease before he’d had to sit still and let you disappear from his sight, the two of you on your way to the nearest hospital. We weren’t anything yet, and that still… that one still hurt. “But how does this help us now? Ginger said it was a welcome home present, but … they aren’t just oil, they have to be for somethin’ else.” He frowned, taking the bottle out of your hand and twisting it to look. 

“Instructions just say that whoever’s applying what’s in here needs to be sure they take the corresponding tablet when they start using it.” Turning the bottle over in your hand, you pointed at a small indentation in the bottom of the bottle. “And that there’s enough to treat a couple people at once, just in case.” You reached for the bottle he held, fingers brushing his as you took it back. “She wouldn’t give us something dangerous and call it a present, Jack.” 

“No, she wouldn’t.” He sighed, bringing one hand up to the back of his neck. “Who’s gonna go first, then?” He was intrigued - he had to admit it. And I’m excited to have a whole afternoon off, too. “And which one are we going to use?” You stood, setting down the second bottle and advancing toward Jack, using one finger to beckon him to his feet.

“Since you got injured today, I think you should let me work on your shoulders first… and I’ll use the one that says warm.” You bit your lip, eyes dropping from his face to his chest and then moving back up, the man blinking slowly at you. “Are you going to turn down a massage, Jack?” For a few seconds, you thought that that was exactly what he was going to do, but then his expression changed, an easy smile replacing the tight one he’d worn only seconds earlier. “Take your shirt off.” 

He was already dressed for training - athletic shorts and a Statesman t-shirt similar to the one that he’d worn when you’d trained with him, and in no time at all, Jack used one hand to pull the shirt over his head, tossing it to the side. “No way in hell I’m gonna miss out on havin’ your hands on me.” Good.

His eyes darkened, tongue darting out to wet his lips, and in an instant, you knew exactly where the day was going. There was only one possible outcome, and in Jack’s expression, you saw that he’d come to the same conclusion. “Bedroom?” He nodded twice, bending over to scoop up both bottles, and less than a minute later, Jack was sitting cross-legged on your bed, you kneeling behind him. 

You’d had him there far too few times for your liking, and still weren’t used to the sight of him sitting atop your sheets, but he was a welcome addition to the landscape of your bedroom. Any room, actually. You smiled to yourself as you used the edge of your thumbnail to pop open the bottom of the bottle, shaking out one of the tablets onto your palm before popping it into your mouth. 

It tasted like candy - sweet and faintly lemony, and within seconds, it was dissolving on your tongue as you trailed your fingertips up Jack’s back. “I can smell that.” He turned his head, half a smile visible. “Smells good.” 

“How’s it taste?” You leaned in, pressing your lips to his, and when Jack reached for you, his arm curved backwards to settle one hand against the back of your head, you sighed against his mouth, giving him an opening. He took it, and even at the strange angle, his tongue worked past your lips and met yours, the man searching for a taste of the tablet you’d taken. 

It was a short kiss - by your standards - and when Jack broke it, he winked at you, lips pushed out into the pout you loved so much. “Tastes real sweet. Like you.” Though you couldn’t hold back a roll of your eyes at the cheesiness of the line, the fact that he meant it made your face warm, Jack’s return wink the last thing you saw before he faced forward again. 

Reaching for the bottle of self-warming oil, you uncapped it, squeezing a quarter-sized amount onto your palms and  then rubbing them together. “Oh, that…” You hummed, the heat immediately spreading over your skin. “That works fast.” Shifting on your knees so that you could relax and rest your weight against your thighs, you began to rub his shoulders, thumbs digging in on either side of his spine. “Sorry I’m not that woman from the resort in Washington, Jack. This isn’t my day job.” 

He laughed quietly, tilting his head forward and stretching the skin taut over the back of his neck. You moved your hands to adjust to that position, and as you followed the line of his spine up to his hairline and then back down before widening the spread of your hands to cover his shoulders, you listened to the sounds he made. Every grunt of pleasure sent a jolt of satisfaction through you, his approval stoking the heat in your belly that you felt every time you got a reminder that Jack was yours - and that you knew exactly what to do to pull those sounds from him.  

“Not lookin’ for a professional here.” He paused, sighing in contentment. “Just you.” And that was enough of a verbal reminder, Jack going quiet as you continued to work, paying special attention to his right shoulder. He only flinched once, the reaction to your probing fingers making you inhale sharply. Shit. You closed your eyes, gritting your teeth. Ah, fuck. 

“Jack, I wish you would have told me about your shoulder sooner.”

“Not now, Agent.” He cleared his throat, letting out a measured breath, “We can talk about it later.” You felt the warmth from the oil as you touched his skin, a faint, pleasant tingle spreading over your palms and fingers, and only a few seconds later, Jack cleared his throat again, sighing. “That feels so damn good. I could just about fall asleep. You’ve got a great …” He trailed off, lifting his head and taking another breath. “Your touch is …” His voice is different. Is he really that relaxed?

“Do you want to lay down?” Pausing with your hands near the center of his back, you said his name. “I don’t want you to fall over.” He agreed and you moved to kneel next to him, waiting until Jack was in position on his stomach to climb back into place. Settling one knee on each side of his body, you replaced your hands on his shoulders. Jack’s arms were folded beneath one of your pillows, his head turned to the side - and you could see that his eyes were closed. He looks like he’s about to pass out. “I’m going to use more of the oil, alright? Is it too tingly for -”

“Nope.” He sighed, breaths lengthening. “Could feel it a lot on my shoulders an’ neck, but now…” He shifted his hips, Jack’s thighs brushing against yours. “Use more. Feels real good. It’s warm.” Alright … Instead of pouring it onto your hands, you dripped the oil slowly onto Jack’s back. It beaded on his skin, magnifying the freckles beneath it in the light of your bedroom as it rolled downward. “You can go harder…” He sighed, the sound turning into a hum of approval. “I like …” 

There’s no reason he should be this tired. He was wide awake a few minutes ago. Returning your hands to his skin, you continued to manipulate the muscles there, your hands sliding to his sides and brushing over his ribs. When he didn’t react the way he usually did - a sharp intake of beath coupled with the jerking of his stomach muscles as he fought off a laugh - you removed your hands and stared down at him, chewing on your lower lip. “Jack?” Leaning in, you frowned. “Are you alright?”

And then it hit you - the oil was the only thing that could have put him into such a state so quickly. Oh, shit. Scrambling for the bottle, you wiped your hand on your knee and then shook one of the tablets out onto the blanket, using the corner of it to lift it and hold it to Jack’s lips.

“Hey.” Leaning down, you murmured into his ear. “Open your mouth, Jack.” He grunted but didn’t move, so you repeated yourself, wetting your lips. Gotta use the name he’s trained to react to. “Open wide for me, Agent Whiskey.” He responded to that almost immediately, parting his lips enough for you to slip the tablet inside. This has to be it. There’s no way I’m that good with my hands. Taking a deep breath, you began to rub at his back again, waiting. 

“Lemonade.” His voice was still quiet when you heard it a few minutes later. “Tastes like my Grammy’s lemonade.” Jack’s eyes blinked open, his tongue poking through his lips as he wet them. “Did I fall asleep?” 

“You did.” You were focused on the space just above the waistband of his shorts, thumbs pressing into the divots in his lower back, fingers spread wide above them. “That’s what this bottle does, Jack. It puts you to sleep.”

“Smart.” He took a deep breath and held it, shoulders tightening briefly as he shrugged. “Hit me like a ton of goddamn bricks, too. Didn’t take any time.” 

“It didn’t.” Sliding your hands back up, you squeezed his shoulders as you leaned forward. “Just feels warm and a little tingly on my hands, but there must be something in it that knocks you out.” You looked around the room, thinking. “Would be perfect for recon in someone’s house or bedroom. They’d just think you were really good at giving a massage. And taking that tablet before means that you wouldn’t have to say no to the target using it on you, either.” He agreed, turning his head further and cracking an eye open. “What?”

“Do I get to find out what the other one does?” He raised an eyebrow, sliding his hand out from under the pillow and running his fingers through his hair, one side of his mouth lifting in your favorite smirk. “Maybe it keeps you wide awake all night.” 

“Maybe.” You’re a fiend, Jack. You pulled your hands away from him and wiped them on your pants again, still settled comfortably on top of the man. “Or maybe it’s like a truth serum, or -”

“We’ve already got onea those.” Jack pushed on the mattress with both hands, lifting his upper body. “Let me up.” You did, and when he was seated and staring at you, he sucked his lower lip back and between his teeth, eyes focused on your face. “No, I’m sure what Ginger gave us does somethin’ else entirely.” 

He rolled his head back and forth a few times, eyes closed. He’s still waking up. “Well then, to be fair, I won’t take the antidote until we know for sure.” The surprise in Jack’s eyes was evident, and you didn’t even try to stop yourself when you reached for him, cradling his cheek in one hand. “We know how fast it works now, so as soon as we figure out what the second one does, you can make sure I take it.” 

“‘Mmhmm.” Jack leaned closer, maintaining eye contact until he couldn’t anymore because there was no space left between you. “Sounds like a good plan to me.” He kissed you softly, the man’s lips still tinged with the faint, bright taste of lemon, and before you knew what was happening, Jack pulled you onto his lap, both arms going around you. 

You were familiar with him in a way that you hadn’t ever been with anyone else, craving each of the ways that he touched you - and so you didn’t hold back. You got comfortable as you leaned against the man’s solid body, both hands firmly pressed against his bare back. “Jack…” Inhaling through your nose as you eased away from him, you squeezed your eyes shut, allowing yourself a contented smile. “If you keep kissing me, we’re just going to end up -”

“Oh, we’re gonna end up doin’ that too.” He ran the tip of his nose along the side of yours before kissing your cheek briefly. “Just not ‘til a little later.” You shivered and knew that he felt it, Jack’s cheeks lifting in a genuine smile as he pulled back all the way. “Now, you got me shirtless before you started, so why don’t we do the same for you?” 

Instead of you pulling your own shirt off, Jack did the honors after you nodded in agreement, lifting both arms over your head to make it easier for him. “I can take off my bra, too. That way there’s nothing in your way.” But with a single shake of his head, Jack turned you down, his hands sliding over the length of your arms and then falling away. He climbed out of the bed and reached for the second bottle, standing net to the bed as he opened it, twisting the cap off. Ok, it can wait then. 

“Lay down.” Jack raised the container to his nose. “This one smells like something else. Coconut, maybe? Like suntan lotion.” Suntan lotion? That’s… odd. He tipped the open bottle over and only stopped when you cried out his name, reaching for his wrist and wrapping your fingers around it. “What?” Wait!

“The tablet, Jack. You have to take it otherwise we’re both going to… well, we don’t know what because we don’t know what this one does.” His brows shot up, the man swearing under his breath as he snapped the cap shut again, turning the bottle over. 

“Shit. You distracted me so damn much that I …” He trailed off as he pulled a tablet free and popped it into his mouth, tongue visible for a few seconds. “That’s real goddamn weird.” What is? He sucked on it thoughtfully, cheeks going hollow and his brow knit in contemplation. “Smells like coconuts but it tastes like peppermint, too. Fuckin’ wild. Ginger and the team really did somethin’ with this one.” Peppermint? 

“So like … Icy Hot?” Blinking rapidly, you leaned back, holding yourself up and letting your weight rest on both hands. You watched as he reopened the bottle, squeezing some out into his palm. That substance was white and viscous, not quite as dense as lotion, but definitely more solid than the first oil had been. “Oh, that’s strange, Jack. It’s thick.” 

“It is.” Jack’s eyes were on his hands, the frown still on his face. “And it’s… cold?” But before he could say anything else, he shook himself back into focus, gesturing with his chin. “Lay down on your stomach. Gonna start with your back.” 

You did as he asked, and moments later, you found out exactly what he meant. 

It was a shock to your skin as his hands made contact, but it only lasted a few seconds - replaced with a pleasant chill, the sensation spreading out slowly from where his fingers touched you. He started near your waist and with gentle pressure before curving his hands down and over your ribs, fingertips sliding briefly between your body and the bed. “Feels so good, Jack.” 

You closed your eyes, focusing on the way he was touching you. “You gettin’ tired? You’re still breathin’ normally.” You thought for a few seconds and then sighed as he spoke your name. 

“No, it feels great, and I’m relaxed, but it isn’t putting me to sleep.” Instead, you felt wide awake and oddly calm, the cooling effect of the oil sinking into your skin the same way aloe did when you applied it after a day outside in the sun. ‘I just feel… you, Jack.” And you feel incredible. 

He hummed out a reply, finally moving up your back and sliding his fingers beneath the band of your bra. “Gonna unhook this now, alright?” You gave him permission and only seconds later, felt the material snap open, Jack’s fingers digging into the newly exposed skin. “I didn’t tell you about my arm because it’s not bad all the time. It really is like your leg, only bothers me when I’m usin’ it too much.” Oh, so he’s going right for it. 

“Still.” You turned your head toward the pillow, groaning into the pillowcase when he pressed on a tender spot. “Right there, Jack. Harder. That…” The touch of his hands and the cool addition of what was on them drew your focus, but you felt the tension pop, Jack pushing against the lower edge of your shoulder blade before he continued his journey over your back and toward your neck and shoulders. “You should have told me. I know I didn’t realize it when it happened, but … it’s been months since I remembered everything.” 

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” he continued after humming in acknowledgement of what you’d just said. “But there was nothin’ you could have done about it.” He was right - you weren’t Ginger, and didn’t work in a laboratory. You weren’t a doctor, and couldn’t prescribe treatment or exercise. But I could have … offered support. 

Jack’s hands were on your shoulders, kneading the flesh there, and you couldn’t stop the sigh that escaped your lips as that skin and muscle began to tingle, too - a cool, liquid feeling settling just beneath the surface. “Maybe this one just … relaxes you, Jack. I still feel perfectly fine.” 

You did - the entirety of your back pleasantly coated in what felt a cool sheet, your shoulders and the top portion of your arms beginning to feel the same. “It’s gotta do somethin’.” Jack paused long enough to pull his hands away, squirting more out of the bottle before reaching down to run his palms over your forearms and down, the man finally threading his fingers between yours and squeezing. “Even if it’s…” He went quiet and you opened your eyes, waiting. Why’d he stop? “Can you feel this?” 

He squeezed your hand again, palm pressed to yours. “Yes.” You blinked, not understanding. “You’ve got your palm flat against mine, and -”

“Straighten your fingers.” Confused, you did as he asked. Why? What’s the point? “Well?”

“I did, Jack.” Wiggling your fingers for good measure, you turned to look at him again, lifting your head from the pillow. “See?”

“Agent, you’re not movin’ a damn thing.” He laughed then, the sound full of understanding. “I think this is a paralytic. You can still feel what’s happenin’ but you can’t move.” Oh. 

In an instant, you turned your head in the opposite direction and lifted that arm, wiggling your fingers in front of your face. You could both see and feel that happening, and when you lowered your hand back onto the pillow, you returned your attention to your other side, concentrating. “Well that’s interesting.” 

It should have scared you - the fact that parts of your body were unable to move and you had no idea how long it would last, but instead of being afraid, you realized that you were somewhat turned on - and it was because you knew that Jack would take care of you. “Do you want the antidote? Shouldn’t take more than a couple minutes for feelin’ to come back.” He was still touching you - the man’s fingertips running up and down your arm, though the contact was light, barely there. 

“Give me a second.” Concentrating, you focused on the different parts of your body, beginning with your toes. They moved, you could feel the softness of the blanket rustling against them. The same was true for your legs – you heard the sound of your pants sliding over the bedspread and felt the pull of your knee muscles as you flexed them. But when you attempted to lift your thighs one by one, you realized that you weren’t moving. “Oh this is …” Strange. Weird. Exciting. “Jack get off of me, I want to roll over.” 

He did as you asked, sitting next to you on the bed. “Lemme know if you need me, alright?” You saw that he was fighting back a smile, his chest rapidly moving up and down as he watched you. “I’m here to help.” Oh, I’m sure you are. You pushed yourself up with your good arm and then attempted to use the other one to do the same.

It didn’t move. 

Your hand was resting on the bed, palm up, fingers curled inward - exactly where Jack had dropped it as he climbed off of you. “Shit.” Letting out a scoff, your eyes darted up, locking with his. “I can feel the blankets, Jack. I can feel - “

“But you can’t move.” His tone was lower than it had been, eyes dark as they focused on your face. “Well, you can’t move what I touched with that shit.” 

“I can’t. And it must spread, because my thighs are … stuck.” Rolling your eyes, you sighed. “Help me onto my back?” He did as you asked, shifting onto his knees and winding an arm around you, his other hand supporting the opposite side of your body. His frame covered you as you repositioned yourself, head on the pillows. “This will be very useful, Jack. I’m wide awake and aware of what’s going on, but all it would take is you putting that onto someone’s hands or feet, and -”

“And they’d be completely incapacitated even though they could still talk.” He grinned, looking down at the bottle. “Ginger wasn’t lyin’ when she said that these were gonna come in handy.” No, she wasn’t. His eyes swept over your partially clothed body - the look in them hungry. “I want to keep touchin’ you. But it would feel… wrong. Because you can’t move your arm, or sit up, and … and that feels like takin’ advantage.” 

“Jack.” Swallowing hard, your next words stuck in your throat. “You’re not taking advantage.” You paused. “Pretend I’m reaching for your hand right now, alright?” He laughed, nodding his head. “Keep touching me. Anywhere. I want -” You could see it in his expression - Jack wanted to do what you were telling him to, the man’s fingers curling and uncurling in his lap as he kept himself from lifting either of his arms. “I can feel it. I just can’t… do anything about it.” 

“Why does it sound like that turns you on?” He frowned but you could still see the spark of intrigue behind his expression, kept to barely glowing embers in the depths of his eyes. Because if he let it free, that’d be it. “It would feel like I’m using you. Like I’m doin’ something wrong.” 

“Not something wrong.” You reached up with the hand you could still move, pressing one finger to your lips. Oh, but I can’t move my shoulder. It’s spreading there, too. “Because I’m telling you it’s alright. And…” Taking the tip of your thumb between your lips, you thought for a few seconds. It’s alright. “Maybe it’d be alright if you used me for a little while. I… wouldn’t complain.” 

The silence in the room was thick, both of you digesting the words that had come out of your mouth. Did I overstep? Is that too much? Is it not what he wanted to hear? “How ‘bout we compromise.” Jack leaned in, one hand moving to your belly and settling there as he ducked down. “We do this for a couple more minutes.” He moved his fingertips in a slow circle over your skin, the difference in temperature making you gasp. “And then when I really want to touch you, you take the tablet. By the time it starts workin’, we should both be ready to go.” 

“Yes.” You nodded, resting your hand over top of his, fingers curled over the man’s knuckles and halting his movement. “That’s fair.”

That was all the encouragement Jack needed, pulling his hand free from beneath yours and then pouring more of the oil onto his palm. “Give me your hand.” He was grinning again, his eyes locked with yours. “You wanna play? We’ll play, Agent.” 

It was still strange to you - the way that hearing him call you Agent sent a rush of heat  through your entire body, but even as he took your hand in his and repeated the same thing that he’d done with the other one, you understood exactly why it affected you as much as it did.

He’d used the term as a secret one of endearment for years, foregoing calling you Cider on missions and instead referring to you by the title, which was different than with all of the others you worked with - and all of the other times you’d observed him on missions. It’s like a secret, you sighed as he let go of your hand, leaving it on top of the blankets, his fingers running up the inside of your forearm. Our secret. 

“Will you kiss me, Jack?” It came out needy and breathless, your eyes closed as he squeezed your bicep. “I -” You didn’t get anything else out, Jack’s kiss bruising as he covered your mouth with his. You didn’t realize it until you felt his tongue slip between your lips and into your mouth, but he’d also lifted his hands from your torso, settling one of them against your jaw and turning your head toward him, the other one supporting his weight as he leaned forward. 

Jack kissed you like he was trying to consume you - and you committed every movement of his lips and each sound he made to memory, almost like you’d never get to experience it again. 

You desperately wanted to touch him, too - to run your fingers through the silken strands of his hair, to let your fingertips drift over the line of his jaw, Jack’s 5 o’clock shadow providing a touch of friction. But I can’t. You groaned in frustration, the man immediately backing off, concern on his face. “You alright?” 

“Yeah, I just realize how much it sucks to not be able to touch you.” You bit your lip - swollen and tingling from his kiss even without the aid of the oil - and then closed your eyes again. “Be glad that you didn’t offer to use the warm one on me.” You’d hate not being able to move.

“Next time?” He surprised you when he spoke, Jack clearing his throat. “Next time we use these, I want to see what this one feels like.” He climbed out of the bed and stood next to it, the tenting in his shorts much more visible than it had been when he was sitting. He adjusted himself through the material, head cocked to one side. “Wonder if you can make me come even if I can’t move.” 

You gasped again, mouth dropping open at his words, and you were rewarded with another smirk, the man bending at the waist and hooking his fingers beneath the elastic waistband of your pants. “I’d lift my hips… but I can’t.” The smirk turned into a genuine grin, Jack’s lips curving upward, and to your surprise, he made quick work of the last items that you wore - the stretchy material of your training leggings and your underwear joining the rest of your clothing on the floor. “Well this is interesting.” Licking your lips, you took a deep breath. “Jack, I -”

“Well aren’t you gorgeous.” He used two fingers to stroke his mustache, the tip of his tongue poking out of one corner of his mouth. “Gimmie a second, alright?” You barely had time to agree before Jack was striding from the room, arms swinging by his sides. “Just gotta read somethin’ real quick.” 

What the fuck are you reading? As intrigued as you were, you were just as frustrated, craning your neck to see down the hallway. Why did he leave? Before you could worry for too long, Jack reappeared, holding the instruction sheet in one hand. “Jack?”

“This paper says,” he began, before breaking eye contact and looking back at what he held. “That both oils are designed to be used anywhere on the human body.” He paused, glancing back up at you over the top edge as he read from the sheet. “They are food-grade and safe for consumption.” Oh. You froze at that, immediately understanding Jack’s intentions. “Now.” He set the sheet on your dresser and then sat back down on the bed. “As much as I want to find out how this tastes, it still feels a little wrong to do that when you can’t move your arms or sit up.” 

“That’s… fair.” Wetting your lips, you blew out a long, shaky breath. “Guess there’s always next time, right?” He agreed, reaching for the bottle and opening the bottom, taking one of the tablets between his fingers. “I thought I said not y-”

“Just want to be ready.” He wet his lips, setting the tablet down on the pillow next to your head. “You say the word, and I’ll put that thing in your mouth so fast it’ll make your head spin.” I don’t doubt that.

“I want to see what you’re going to do.” Defiant, you narrowed your eyes. “You went to read those instructions, so you must have a plan.” 

“Oh, I do.” He winked at you, your breath catching in your throat at the sight, and then Jack turned the opened bottle over, squeezing and letting some of the liquid drip down against your abdomen, the cold making you whine. Fuck this is… that’s… oh my God, he…  “I’ve got a plan alright.” 

He flattened one hand to the left of your body before using his right hand to pull your legs apart, his eyes never leaving your face. “Jack, you…” You had no idea what you were even trying to say, but Jack’s next motion stopped your words, his fingers gliding up and over the top of your thigh until they reached the liquid on your skin, dragging through it. 

You could feel it - the way the chill spread over your skin as he drew patterns with it, Jack’s touch light enough that there was no pressure but still something that you were able to feel. He circled your belly button with one finger, an action that would have caused your abdominal muscles to contract under normal circumstances - but at the widening smile on his face as he did it, you knew that nothing had moved. “Remember, as soon as you’re done with this, tell me.” 

“Mmmhmmm.” Breathlessly, you agreed, Jack’s hand traveling lower. One finger turned to two, the edges of his nails scraping along your skin… and then Jack leaned closer, saying your name. “What? What do you -” You barely got the words out through your panting breaths, your focus destroyed with every new inch of you that he touched. “Jack… It feels like you’re dragging ice over my …” Without warning he lifted his hand and reached up, fingers finding and tweaking one nipple gently, a  wail escaping from between your lips before you clamped them shut. Fuck. 

“I think you like that.” He palmed your breast before ducking his head down and sealing his mouth over your nipple, the scent of his hair filling your nostrils. Tilting your head down - since it was the only part of you that you could move - you took as deep a breath as you could manage, wondering if he could hear the thundering beat of your heart. Maybe he can feel it. You whimpered when his tongue flicked out, laving over your nipple before it was replaced with his teeth, another brief, sharp burst of pain forcing your eyes shut. “I think you like that a lot.” 

He murmured the words when he broke away from you, a lazy smile on his face as the straightened up. “I…I do.” He followed a straight line down the center of your chest with his fingers, the chill fainter in their wake than it had been against your abdomen, but when he passed your belly button, he didn’t stop, his eyes finally leaving your face when he reached for the bottle again. “More? What do you need more for, Jack? This is … you…” 

“You’ll know in a minute.” Holding his hand up so that you could see what he was doing, Jack drizzled more of the oil over his middle and pointer fingers, the liquid dripping down the length of them, though the flow was slower than it had been down his back. He whispered your name and waited until you met his eyes to speak, the man’s tone leaving no room for hesitation. “Gonna be cold. Tell me if it’s too much.” Nodding in agreement, you held you breath as he tossed the bottle to the side and then lowered his hand, never breaking eye contact. 

He sunk two frigid fingers into you with a groan, his jaw twitching as he fought to keep his eyes open. After only seconds, you broke, your mouth falling open as your eyes slammed shut, the length of his fingers gliding through you as he urged them forward. “Fuck, Jack.” You tried to focus on the sound of his voice but couldn’t, the only thing you were truly aware of how good it felt to have him touching you the way he was, the heat that typically consumed you when the two of you were in bed replaced with a concentrated, icy sensation. 

The contrast between the soft heat of your body and the chill of his thick fingers was too much - and would have been even if you’d been able to move. But when Jack continued speaking, you knew you were close to putting an end to things and begging for the antidote. 

“I can feel you movin’.” He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against yours without stopping the motion of his hand, the flex of his wrist sending small shivers down the inside of your thighs, even though he hadn’t touched you there otherwise. “You’re shaking. You’re so warm, Agent. So goddamn …” He groaned, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before exhaling against them, his breath little more than a short puff of air. “How’s it feel for you?” Cold. It feels cold and warm at the same time but it’s good, it’s so fucking… 

Even if you weren’t so overwhelmed, you wouldn’t have been able to describe it. The way he was touching you almost made your body sing, Jack’s touch confident, even as he withdrew his fingers completely and laid the heel of his hand against you briefly, giving you a respite. “Jack, I need…” Your eyes were open and you stared straight up at the ceiling, mouth hanging open when he reentered you, the stretch subtle. He’s got three… he added… “Give me the antidote, Jack. Need to touch you.” 

Straightening up, the man reached for the tablet and lifted it to your lips, raising one brow even as he continued to thrust his fingers into you, movement slow and controlled. “Stick your tongue out.” 

You did - opening your mouth and extending it, Jack’s eyes flashing with a desire that he didn’t even try to hide, his pupils so large that the dark brown was almost completely obscured. 

It began to dissolve almost as soon as he pressed it against the muscle, and when you retracted your tongue and closed your mouth, you closed your eyes, savoring the taste. It was overwhelmingly minty, but by the time you swallowed, it had mellowed out, the taste of coconut coating your tongue and soothing the chill slightly. It’s good. “You let me know when you’re good to go.” Jack whispered the words, scooting closer and rubbing his thumb over your cheek. “Let me know as soon as -” 

“Yeah.” Swallowing again, you reassured him. “Yeah, I …” He curled the fingers inside of you, pausing their movement otherwise, and when he kissed you again, Jack didn’t hold back, plunging his tongue back between your lips. I will. 

The chill was still there, the man’s fingers still cold, the areas of your body that he’d touched earlier just as impacted as they had been, but as the kiss deepened, Jack’s teeth tugging on your lip before he ran his tongue along it, you felt the blanket beneath your fingertips, a wrinkle smoothing out as you straightened the digits. 

Testing yourself, you slid your hand forward, finding Jack’s knee and then raising it, curling your fingers over the top of his leg briefly before you slid them beneath the bottom hem of his shorts. “Welcome back.” He mumbled the words against your lips, groaning as your hand moved higher, palm reaching his thigh. “What’re you -”

“I can move again.” He was firm against your fingertips and then you felt the heat when you wrapped him in your whole hand. “See”?” There wasn’t much room for you to move your hand but you still managed, short strokes that left the thin material of his shorts stretched tightly over your knuckles.

“Lemme take those off.” He broke away from you entirely, the man’s chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. “Let me get ready to …” He trailed off as you pushed yourself into a sitting position, the man’s fingers stilled inside of you, yours paused with him heavy against them. 

“You should hurry up.” He was confused but didn’t speak, waiting to see what else you’d say… and you didn’t make him wait long. “You said you wanted to see how it tastes…right?”

He laughed then, the sound quiet but somehow dangerous, too, the man curling his fingers once more before removing them slowly. Jack stood, ridding himself of his shorts in one smooth movement and springing to attention in front of you. There was no hiding the way you wet your lips at the sight, both hands fidgeting in your lap while you waited. 

He looked down at you for a few seconds and then reached for down with his left hand, the man’s long fingers wrapping around himself and beginning to stroke his length leisurely, though the set of his shoulders gave him away entirely. I just got some of that tension out, and now he’s… Come on, Jack. 

He said your name then, the sound little more than a growl before he beckoned you forward with his other hand, urging you to rise onto your knees in front of him. 

“I do want to know what it tastes like, Agent.” He paused, eyes moving away from your face and down, over the rest of your body. “And I think it’s time I find out.”  

— 

Tag list coming separately!

[mushroomjeremy]

After a long full year of slowly picking at this drawing to finish it, it’s finally done Hallelujah!

Here is the three version of my Alto Clef headcanon-verse look! 

This was the drawing I was doing when I brought up the split AU with Clef that went off the rails, which it still is. This drawing still works on it own without the AU thing.

Below Keep Reading is the Following:

-three alternate looks to this drawing I was playing around with

-And an explanation and headcanon ramblings about the weird Split-AU

~~~

Here are the two alts first

1st one without the scars and face shadow

2nd one where Francis has horns

3rd one is off the sketches I made for their animal camera heads with Francis having a snake, Clef having a spider, and Ukulele having a cat one. I want to have these done with the normal drawing but it taken too long to finish with this whole things. So take them one their own when they are just sketches.

~~~

Okay here’s the mass dumb ideas for the AU:

The general premise that there is an undocumented SCP that during an interview with Clef got into a fight which ended with the creature somehow splitting Clef into three versions of himself

The individual was shot dead but apparently the anomaly itself can either move hosts or is a weird event that can happen. All that matters is it is technically not contained as of yet.

Clef got split into Alto, Francis, and Agent Ukulele

While this can be seen as A Major system it has more to do with different times and version of themselves than straight up ‘force A Major to mitosis itself’

While I haven’t overall thought about the skip, I have at least made it come back a split others people to at least have come kind of comparison of what the anomaly really does and what is Clef is a strange person in general.

Dr Simon Glass got himself split in two, now temporarily Agent Shard and Dr Glass are separate people

Bright works weirdly if it happens, basically an old version of a body Jack took over get made at random. Jack is trying to go out of his way to find this thing hoping it would somehow make a split from his original body. These splits just work like Jack having multiple bodies.

They can become one person again, but that relies on not hating the other version of themselves and feeling they are one in the same person so Clef ends up making 2/3 fusion as at any given time someone is hating someone else or feels not attached as a whole. So the Foundation is dealing with about 6 different Clefs. Each fusion kinda has a name but its more a title than anything. Francis + Ukulele is ‘God Hunter’ Francis + Clef is ‘The Devil’ and Clef + Ukulele is ‘Bastard’

While both Glass and Shard can become one person again and never need to resplit, Shard wants to beat the anomaly to a pulp first and Simon just lets himself go do that.

Everything beyond this point is just about Clef

They each only have one eye and the other two got replaced with tattoos. They can see out one others eyes if the tattoo has visibility.

Ukulele covers his eye more as a way of hiding outwardly visible anomalous traits than to stop Francis or Clef seeing from where ever Uku is at the moment. They are just collateral damage.

Each version has their own ways of lying. Francis usually uses omissions and denials, Ukulele usually uses white lies and minimization, and Alto just using bold lie, exaggeration, and commission lies. Never trust a thing Alto says, 50/50 if what Ukulele said is true, and Francis is just going to make round you in circles if its not something trivial.

Collectively they have 2 brain cells shared among each other. They are obvious to their surrounds sometimes. It safer for them to move as a pack as their normal awareness has dropped way down.

While they do have more paper work now that they are more people, there is only one extra stack of papers as the Foundation know they won’t be seeing anything from there if two of them aren’t split one full stack.

They also have different aspect of their job split. Agent Ukulele deals with MFT training and deployment, Dr Clef deals with Type Green interviews, testing, and seminars, and Francis get odd jobs to maintenance on SRA, most of it is sitting in a room and cleaning corroded batteries compartment so the anchors aren’t reality collapsing ticking time bombs.

The way they reality bend is also slightly different. Alto uses it a moderate amount usually altering object to annoy other people, Francis uses it the most to help with daily life like making paper weights or “teleporting” around the site  really preferring to change the environment around him, and Ukulele does it the least usually choosing to make himself faster, flexible, and/or stronger at a given time (sometime he uses it to make training courses for MTF but that’s a little rare)

Ukulele usually has the Goc Ichabod rifle, Clef has a triple barrel shotgun thats modified to work on type green, and Francis was just given a knife as neither Uku or Clef wanted to give him a gun.

There is a big polycule going around with mainly Clightdrakiglass. It looks like this mess. I’m not good at making these quickly and nicely, its this or see you in another full year and maybe I’d have it done.

Clightdraki Tri-Selfcest Polycule Conspiracy Theory Cult, while not an actual cult is a strange group of low level no named staff starting a weird group around drama and theorizing about the mess of the above group and co. They are very very strange.

Francis maybe killing a lot of people in the background and no one is really paying mind to it.

And they arent gunshot kills, he’s gutting people with a knife.

No one know why he’s doing this. No one’s looking into this, just casually asking for a death report and moving on.

On a completely different anomalous problem a reality rift made SCP 166-AR and SCP 4166 come here. So that’s also being dealt with to make sure the Clef’s from those realities don’t force there way here to get their respective daughter. They get to share a containment room, everyone gets to be in the garden box :)

I said this AU went off the rails. This should be evident by now.

Lady Agora got roped into this: Clef(s) found where their mother was hiding at and with little to no idea how to undo what is happen gamble with the hope that she would 1. Know what’s going on and 2. Actually willing to help.

She is at least willing to look into the anomaly. She kinda knows the easy way to fix this is therapy, so outside of finding out what it is, isn’t going to help further, if her son want to do this the hard way he can do that on his own. 

I know somewhere in my head there is more to things about this I forgot about right now. May come and update this list if it grows.

[alchemicallymoon]

Commentary for [Name Redacted]

(That's the actual name of the fic. Nothing's getting redacted here!)

I haven’t done one of these in a while! Even if you haven’t read the fic this is for, there’s a free headcanon for you in this post!

I’ve had this headcanon for a long time. Like, before I even started publishing Splatoon fics. The idea is that in the Splatlands, people are given names by different groups instead of having a single name that they introduce themselves by. The name can be many different things depending on the group. For example, your family would give you a more name-sounding name, while your school might give you a name based on what you’re studying. The closest thing they have to “standard” names are names based on notable skills or physical features.

This style of naming is very common in the Splatland deserts, but pretty uncommon in the city of Splatsville (though common enough that government forms and such try to have more concrete ways of determining identity.) It’s not a big deal to reveal your other names to a unit, but it’s weird and a bit invasive to use those other names for someone. In the desert, only wealthy and important people are given names at birth* that are used throughout their lives, regardless of unit. These are known as “common names,” as mentioned in the fic. Neo, in this fic, is pretty ignorant of city culture, and he assumes everyone uses the naming conventions he’s familiar with.

*In that one line, when Neo says he doesn’t have a common name, I really wanted to make a minor change, but decided it would mess up the flow a bit too much. I wanted to say “as soon as they hatch” instead of “as soon as they’re born,” but I couldn’t. Since the fic is already about cultural differences, I wanted the familiar parts to stay familiar. It’s less accurate, but saying “born” is more natural and familiar to the (presumably) human readers.

I tried some different characterization for Captain and Neo here. The most obvious part is that Captain is mute. I actually wanted to do that with my consistent series of fics, but I didn’t for some reason, and it would be quite the retcon to change it now. There was no reason to mention it in the fic, but they became mute after the events of Octo Expansion, which is why they haven’t learned much sign language yet. I gave them a sillier personality than I usually would, partly to be the opposite of Neo’s personality. Speaking of, I made Neo blunt and borderline rude, but kind of in the way you’d expect a fourteen year old to be (no offense to any fourteen year olds reading this—it’s a rough age to be.) He tries his best to be polite, but he happens to spend most of the fic being pissed off, so we get more of his rudeness showing.

Going back to Captain, I treated their lack of speaking the same way I treat dialogue. My personal writing style is to keep dialogue tags and actions to a maximum of one sentence per line of dialogue, and with no period at the end, unless it’s leading to more dialogue. That may sound confusing written down. Just re-read the first two lines of dialogue, then Neo’s first line in the fic and it should hopefully be clear. Anyways, since Captain didn’t have words in their dialogue, I only used dialogue tags. This was very intentional; just because there are no words doesn’t mean it isn’t dialogue in some way. I typically don’t do that for silent communication—at least not on purpose—but it seemed appropriate for a mute character.

This is one of my favorite and most well-developed Splatoon headcanons. Unfortunately, I don’t tend to add in-depth headcanons like this to my fics. It’s difficult to seamlessly explain a headcanon without it becoming the focus of the fic for at least a few lines. However, I did consider it when thinking of a non-agent name for Neo in my consistent series (which I haven’t revealed yet!)

Also, if anyone feels particularly inspired by this headcanon, you’re absolutely free to use it! Not sure if that needs to be said about a headcanon at all, especially if I’m explaining it in depth like this, but I just want to be clear. If you want to know more about this headcanon, I'd be happy to make something up on the spot give you a well thought out answer.

[aeori-o]

Happy New Year! 2/3 (Tumblr Why)

So apparently tumblr won't let me do a lot of images in one post and instead of reducing the amount of images I'll be using like a sane person I am making multiple posts. Cheers!

Part 1 || Part 3

Back to video games!

I love the steam recaps, both mine and looking at all my friends’ but I’ll just post mine here.

I don’t even remember playing Dishonored this year. I still have the weird desire to 100% it even though I only have the challenge-mode stuff left and of those I only have four left. I’m so freaking close. But I also haven’t touched the game in close to a year. Argh.

That spider-graph underestimates my ability to turn any game into a stealth game. I’m not sure what the game from this year was that’s counting as 3% I think Plate Up! was released last year and I’m doubting Destiny 2 counts even if it is an ongoing game so I assume that must be for the Touchstarved Demo. I do kind of wonder if I’ll ever have a high percentage for new releases just because it takes me forever to get to anything. Releases from the last 1-7 years was 11%, and releases from longer ago was 86% but that will be because I played a lot of short games from the 90’s and 00’s.

Just like my reading my gaming dropped off during the summer. It’s so hard to make time for things how do people do it. I find a physical hobby to do and it just consumes all of my time and energy and brain power.

There’s all the games. I didn’t count anything I spent a very small amount of time on in my personal count. Things like the HE activity packs or mini-games where I played for 5, maybe 10, minutes and stopped. Shockingly mini-games meant to entertain six year olds in the 90’s are not very compelling to a 30 year old in 2023 (though some were very graphically/artistically impressive which was more fascinating and engaging than the mini-games themselves). The actual point-and-click games all hold up surprisingly well. There’s some things that are a little aggravating like Freddi fish’s friend, Luther, makes just the worst jokes. I think so far I’ve been liking Pajama Sam and Putt-Putt the best. We’re done Spy Fox now and I think we still have a few Putt-Putt games left and one or two Freddi Fish games and Pajama Sam games.

I had the farm Buzzy game growing up (which is so strange seeing as I lived on a farm, why did my parents get me that) but not any others and the airport one is wild, genuinely very educational and it’s impressive how much stuff they crammed in there. We haven’t played any recently, though. Also all of Steam’s tags are liars, I did not first play these games in 2023, I first played all these HE games in like, 1998 or something, on an old machine I can still picture in my mind but have no way to look up. I don’t even remember what make it was.

(I asked my dad, because he used to take pictures of everything growing up, but shockingly he appears to have primarily taken photos of me and my sister doing things and not just pictures of random objects around the house. Strange. He did say it was probably a custom computer that had been built for his company so we even went through old company photos but, again, no photos of just people at their desks or their desk set-ups. Through this process I realized the computer I’m currently using is my third desktop, ever. Maybe that’s not that wild but for a device I use almost every day of my life it feels weird for it to “only” be the third one. In my lifetime there’s, so far, been 5 generations of playstations so I feel like I’m doing pretty good on the turnover rate for desktop computers. Here’s a doodle of what I think my first desktop computer looked like:

I can remember the overall shape of it but the details are foggy now. Its name was PC 11, though, because that’s what it was called at his workplace. The real kicker is I probably used to have a photo of it, but I lost all my old photos when my back-up drive gave out on me and I, foolishly, only had my photos on my back-up drive because my computer didn’t have room for them. I’m going to see if my sister, who is younger than me, somehow, magically, has any photos of this thing. Anyway back to video games.)

Donut County was an absolute delight. I think that’s the only other game on there I haven’t talked about at all and it was just a really good time. Cute story and very satisfying gameplay, I had a great time playing it.

We also revisited a series Steph and I played in or just after Highschool which was really fun to revisit with friends.

The Chzo series stands up surprisingly well. I don’t think I’d recommend them for a newcomer but for something I played forever ago (I don’t think I ever beat the series but I know I played the first two) I’m surprised at how well it held up and it was fun to re-experience with friends. There’s some very questionable plot elements and some unfortunate word choices which is why I won’t recommend them but it’s super impressive that one guy just… made these. It’s genuinely very cool and impressive.

Sony is apparently also doing a year in review or “wrap up” this year for the first time ever, I was kind of hoping it would include PS3 data somehow. It didn’t. So this is all I get:

I do really like the graphics they have on everything, too bad my poor PS4 was basically neglected so those graphics are wasted on my dismal play-stats.

They just look really nice. I do think it’s interesting that Sony’s approach to this outright feels a little more cynical and like it rolled out of the marketing department than other wrap-ups. They throw in a little “look at all these cool games you could be playing with playstation plus” and then of course…

Did you know?? You can buy a PS5?? Did you know?? Come buy one. :)

Anyway.

That’s about all I played this year, so I can move on.

To my other hobbies, of which I have about seventeen billion. As I mentioned last year: I was really into reshelling stuff until I ran out of stuff to reshell. So I did reshell one controller this year. One of my Switch procontrollers I wasn’t super happy with, so I changed it to look like the joycons I did for my step-brother and I’m much happier with it:

I also got a bunch of cute thumbgrips for all my modern Nintendo controllers. I’ve never liked add-on thumb grips much but for whatever reason I don’t find the current generation of Nintendo controllers to have comfortable analogue sticks so having cute pads is elevating my Nintendo experience both aesthetically and physically.

And then I realized people sell shells for Gameboys so decided to do the GBAs from my childhood (I don’t know how I wound up with two, and one was my sister’s):

The hinges were so hard to get back in right, different guides said to do different things and they were all wrong. Luckily I had six hinges to get there on so by the time I got to the one with the nicest screen I had it figured out but the Pikachu one has squishy unsatisfying hinges now (and the hinges are so hard to get back out I’m not going to bother fixing it). And some of the batteries were getting puffy so I replaced them (which was maybe silly since these aren’t going to be played often but oh well).

I really love the aesthetics of a clear-case on a GBA. There is just SO much crammed in there it really tickles my brain. Any motherboard looks pretty dense but these are particularly dense in a way that looks visually distinct than even something like the 3DS (picture further down) because there’s so little real estate for them to get everything in there. I know people really like clear cases in general (and I am also a fan) but it hits extra good on something like this where there is just so much to see.

I have continued repairing people’s Nintendo Switches from fans to joycon drift. I still like fixing things whenever I can (I just fixed a kettle a few days ago which I fully did not expect to be able to fix) and one of the major things that needed fixing this year was CurseBreaker, the computer I built at the end of 2020.

My poor computer. Toward the end of 2022 I wanted to try a liquid cooler (which they call an AIO) instead of the stock fan, there was literally no reason to do this except for the thrill of it (AMD’s stock coolers are very good, or at least mine was) and CPUs were on major sale at the time so I figured if I’m messing around I might as well update my CPU, too. About a month later my computer started crashing randomly. Completely randomly, and it wouldn’t fully crash it would kind of “hang” in a really strange way. I could sometimes open programs but task manager would boot but not operate properly, internet connectivity vanished, random programs would freeze, trying to shut down or restart the computer would just have it pinwheel on the shutdown screen forever. Usually I could save whatever I was working on before restarting and sometimes whatever I saved would corrupt. (It also refused to load the windows colour profile on boot, but it still won’t do that, so that is unrelated but I thought it was something at the time.)

I eventually got to the point where I could usually make it crash by watching twitch (specifically twitch did it) while using photoshop. But it wouldn’t trigger right away, and sometimes it wouldn’t trigger at all, but it did it much more often with the twitch and photoshop combo than with anything else. I started writing every time it messed up on a notepad and everything I tried to do to troubleshoot. I was in Reliability History every day (a feature of Windows I did not previously know existed), I was in Event Viewer (a very stressful place to go looking in, Windows can and will consider everything an ‘error’: it considers firefox being my default browser an error and I am not kidding). My computer could Not tell me what the heck was up. The crashing started earlier but by the time I realized it was an ongoing problem and not a few weird crashes it was mid-January so I used Reliability History to see the previous two weeks and started writing my notes, I made a timeline, I even tracked the time between crashes in case it was some bizarre clock thing or ticking time bomb (it wasn’t).

My headphone ear pads broke during this and I had to sew them back together because my headphones are weird and suck and don’t have replacements available to buy. Obviously that wasn’t directly related to my computer’s problems but it didn’t help me feel any less cursed since I use those headphones exclusively with my computer. I also expanded my storage during this time which maybe wasn’t the best idea but someone wanted me to try Destiny 2 and I didn’t have space to spare (the storage installed fine, but almost immediately after I had a bunch of crashes/hangs). And then one of my computer case’s USB ports broke???

How??? How!! I am SO careful. I do not understand how or why this happened and I have been around computers my entire life—this is the only time I have EVER seen a USB port break like this. None of the computers in my highschool had broken USB ports! And people jammed USBs in and out of those! This USB port is still broken, I just have a dust plug in it but I might put a sticker over it. It’s technically usable if you bend that pin back out but it gets crammed back in very easily.

Finally, after four months of this, after partially re-installing Windows, and then fully re-installing Windows, after downloading and updating every driver I could find, after trying to unplug various devices to see if a USB device was causing issues, after fighting with Task Scheduler to get the Windows Color System to work, after uninstalling and reinstalling everything I could or straight up uninstalling things I didn’t need that Windows quietly downloads when you’re not looking (Skype just will not leave my machine Windows keeps dragging it back)… I decided to update the BIOS/UEFI on my machine. My CPU was supposed to be compatible with the BIOS version my motherboard was running but I guess it wasn’t actually.

The thing with updating your BIOS is that if your computer has been running for a while it’s generally recommended you don’t update it. Every page you go to, even the page with the motherboard update versions, will tell you to turn back, to not frivolously update your motherboard, you should only update it if you absolutely have to!

They are not clear on what “absolutely having to” means, though. I was having major computer issues, my CPU was supposed to be compatible, but that was the only other thing I could think of that would be causing the issue. I had tried everything else because all the BIOS stuff warns you away from it and there is no list of “if your computer is doing this it might be the motherboard” or at least I couldn’t find one that isn’t vague. So.

On April 24th I updated my BIOS. It was really easy. I have not had a problem since. There is probably a lesson to be learned here about doing the hard, risky-seeming thing earlier in the process—except that they really warn you off of updating the BIOS. I had four months of very stressful and insanity-making troubleshooting, five-and-a-bit months of a computer that would just randomly give up. It sucked. And all because my motherboard company lied, my CPU was definitely not as compatible as they said it was. Despite how much this process sucked I am very pleased that I fixed it. CurseBreaker got CurseBroken. I still put a sticker on her that says she’s cursed, though.

Anyway.

I also learned how to bind books this year! I haven’t done the big-book bindings where you need to sew pages together (and I would like to learn how to do that and how to make hard covers) but I’ve done this simple kind and I really like it. I have ideas for other things I’d like to make into little personal books. I guess I’ll see where it takes me but I made the little yellow book there as a companion piece to a book my sister had me read and it looked so official that when she opened the present she didn’t understand what she was looking at. Graphic design is my passion. Surprisingly easy to do and very fun! I need a better paper slicer, though. I borrowed one for this and it did more ripping than cutting. Most of the hobbies I take on are very satisfying in a tangible way but this is extra satisfying and I’d like to do more of it.

Through the power of friendship I made two booknooks this year (Vin and Steph helped me). The one on the right was more like a puzzle or ikea furniture where it was all clearly labelled and told you where to put what and when. It took the better part of an afternoon but got done in one day. The one on the left was more like building a diorama with little to no real instruction, just a lot of material.

It took several days to assemble and required busting out the hot glue gun. Somehow the makers of this kit expected you to be able to glue plastic pieces and mirrors with white glue. (It definitely worked better than expected on some things but was a mess and meant having to sit there holding pieces together while they cured because if you let go it’d fall apart. The hot glue was necessary to not go insane.) It even makes you put together the wiring yourself, and then has the audacity to not make it clear anywhere what kind of batteries it takes. Overall super happy with how this one came together, I think it looks super cute, but I was not prepared for how hard it would be after the first one.

But now I have two cute little booknooks! I’ve wanted one for years and now I have two and because we built them I also have good memories directly associated with them.

I also finally have a paper koi lantern! I’ve been following the artist, yuumei, since I was a kid—like I followed her when I still used deviantart which was forever ago. I signed up for the mailing list for these who-knows-when and at some point I assumed this project would never reach completion despite how cool it is. People get busy, it is how it is. But then she launched a kickstarter! I backed! And then a kit showed up in the mail!

There’s a really great tutorial video to go with it for assembly. It was really hard at first but once you kind of figure it out it gets a lot easier. The paper is the most gorgeous paper I’ve seen in my life and she looks beautiful when she’s all lit up.

This one feels so weird to finally have. I think I was following the project for at least a decade so it feels surreal for it to be a real thing now. This thing I wanted as a kid/teen that didn’t exist and now does and I still wanted it. It’s also really nice to see that this fully came together for the artist, as well. If you’re interested she has pricing and product photos on her website here (click): Yuumei Art: Koi Lanterns.

And Tumblr is cross with me with the amount of images I want to put in these so I will be making part 3 presently. I'll set up links when I'm done.

<< Previous || Next >>

[itsfayehr]

Exodus Chapter 2: 15-22

15... but Moses fled from Pharaoh and went to live in Midian, where he sat down by a well. 16 Now a priest of Midian had seven daughters, and they came to draw water and fill the troughs to water their father’s flock. 17 Some shepherds came along and drove them away, but Moses got up and came to their rescue and watered their flock.

18 When the girls returned to Reuel their father, he asked them, “Why have you returned so early today?”

19 They answered, “An Egyptian rescued us from the shepherds. He even drew water for us and watered the flock.”

20 “And where is he?” Reuel asked his daughters. “Why did you leave him? Invite him to have something to eat.”

21 Moses agreed to stay with the man, who gave his daughter Zipporah to Moses in marriage. 22 Zipporah gave birth to a son, and Moses named him Gershom,[c] saying, “I have become a foreigner in a foreign land.”

I haven’t written in a minute because I’ve been so busy. Transitioning is a very hard experience. At first I was just going through the motions of getting paperwork, having them signed, packing my clothes, and everything else. As soon as my orders came, I had to go. It was a mess. My car wheels were not aligned, it was snowing, and my wheels needed to be replaced but I absolutely had no time to get it fixed because I had 5 days to get everything done.

By the time I got home to the apartment with my partner, I was tired and numb. I still had residual feelings of having to go back to base come sunday. It was a weird feeling of being in between. And I still had more to do.

This is where I find myself today. After finally resting and just enjoying my month and a half of vacation, I realized how similar my situation was with Moses. So let’s get into it.

In the latter part of V15, we see Moses running. Pharaoh wanted him dead. We can assume that by this time, the Pharaoh was fuming because he sees a Hebrew raised in his house and betrayed him. Word spread quick as shown by the rejection of the Hebrews and pointing to the murder he committed. I can imagine Moses rushing home and grabbing whatever he needed and plotting about where to go that he could hide. Stuart says that Midian was the most logical destination.

The Midianites were descended from Abraham through his wife Keturah. They were distant relatives, and far enough from Egypt. They were enemies of Egypt and Israel, but Moses proved no threat considering he is by himself. And Jethro’s children saw him as an Egyptian because they’ve probably seen enough Egyptians to know one. However, it also says something about how Moses must feel being mistaken as an Egyptian even though he was not. And I wonder also how he looked considering he was raised by Egyptians for 40 years.

But one of the things I love about the Bible is when it talks about a well. In Genesis, Hagar found herself by a well when she saw God. A well was also where Jacob met Rachel. And the common factor between the 3 people is that they found themselves by a body of water when they were on the run. Although Hagar was running from oppression, they were all running from trouble. And God leads them to an ancient day crossroads.

The well in ancient time was a very important place. It was where a lot of people drew water for their homes and their livestock. Many people travelling far and wide would come to fetch water. And this crossroads is also where God provides opportunities. Despite these people running like fugitives, God provides a place of rest and opportunity for those who are called according to his purpose.

When Moses looks up and sees oppression, he looks outward and intervenes at whatever cost. In some ways, he has absolutely nothing to lose. He has no home, he is basically a fugitive, and he’s exhausted. But instead of feeling sorry for himself and looking at his circumstance, he gets up and fights the shepherds. I’m sure God saw that and smiled. But the question is, what would have happened if he did not intervene? He would have completely missed his blessing. It wasn’t the destination God had in mind, but there was still a blessing behind the desert.

And yet, I sense a sadness in his voice as he names his child. He knows he’s not where he is meant to be. And so he names his child Gershom.

With this, we can conclude a couple of things:

1) God will provide for His children

2) God meets you exactly where you are.

3) God will give you a crossroad and He will show you the way by showing who you really are.

4) Rest is not the destination. God will give you rest when you’ve been running for so long. But notice that Moses’ story, as well as Jacob’s and Hagar’s, does not end at the well. It is only the climax. It is where the protagonist’s story just begins. Rest is a transition, not the destination.

God bless you as you read this. It’s pretty short but I think it’s explosive. May this give you some hope and guidance as you arrive at your own well.

[moody-alcoholic]

Unwavering Devotion Chapter 7

If there was a definition of angst it would be this chapter...

Previous <- current -> Next (coming soontm)

Masterlist

Enjoy the sneak peak <3

Rosaly  3 months later

“Keep this up we’ll be going all night!” I shout at the recruits running down the hill I hear someone walking behind me. 

“Evening lieutenant.” I recognised the voice its Price. I don't turn around instead noting something on my clipboard. 

“You’ve ignored all my messages this was the only way to contact you.” 

“Don’t you think maybe there was a reason for that.” I say watching the recruits. 

“I’m getting 141 back together.” He said, I chuckled.

“Okay good luck with that,” I say, bitterly. These last few months have made me bitter. 

“We found Joshua and Noah.” He says 

“That’s great I’m sure the CIA and Shadow Company will deal with them.” I say walking down the path to see the troop better. Price doesn’t say anything I turn to look at him. He looks tired, like always. 

“There is no 141 anymore Price.” I say tired, throwing my arms out almost pleading for him to let it go. “I haven’t heard from Gaz in months, John is dead Si…” I choke, I cant say his name. I hold my ground, turning around again so he cant see my fight to stay emotionless. I hear him sigh. 

“I’ll have Laswell send you the details.” He said sounding defeated. 

“When you’re done watching recruits maybe give it a look. You’re a soldier Rosaly, and we have a job to finish.” I shake my head, angry. I hear him take a step away. 

“It’s what Johnny would have done… Simon too.” I turn round and watch as he walks of the grass. 

“Price!” I shout, sighing. “Why me? You have a chance to build a new 141, a better 141 you literally have your pick of any soldier. Why me?”

“I think out of all of us you deserve some revenge.” He says as he walks back over to me.

“Is Gaz on board?” 

“Yeah.” He nods, I have no idea what happened with me and Gaz. A few days after I was back in Scotland, he abruptly left. We spoke a few times after that then nothing. I mean I wasn’t exactly in the talking mood but even Price came up to visit and called from time to time. 

“Where are they?” I ask, I see Price smile. 

“I’ll have Laswell send you the details.” He repeats.

“I go back home tomorrow,” I say. I don’t know why I said that, Johnny wanted the house filled with love and people he loved. It feels weird since I left there a month ago, I don’t even know if I can go back yet. 

“We can meet there. Thursday?” He says, that was two days away. I nod, turning back to the troop running up the hill. I hear him walk away again. I was all of a sudden regretting this. I should hear him out at least, he was right it’s what John and Simon would have done. I take a big gulp of air in clearing my throat as the troop made it back to me. 

“Well?” I say waiting for them to say something. I let them talk, trying to explain what they did to the dummy they just dragged up and down the hill. I squeeze my eyes closed as they start to mess up again. Fucking Price. Now I'm too distracted to focus. I sigh dismissing them, Price has riled me up too much, I hope whoever is taking over from me can do a better job. 

I make it into the mess sitting down at the table with the other staff, the base captain moves over to sit in front of me. Captain Sands, he’s new young, it’s his first command position. 

“So what did captain Price want?” He asked. I shrug sipping my tea. “What you didn’t hear him out? Seemed like he had something important to say.” 

“He always has something important to say.” I say back to him, I look down the table at the other officers talking amongst themselves. I never felt like I really fit in but I was told if I wanted to teach I had to accept the promotion. At least Price was good enough to put in a good word for me. 

“So when will you be back?” He asks. I shrug.

“I have 3 weeks of leave saved, probably going to use them all at once so I can get back to work.” I say. 

“Oh great so you’ll be back before the new recruits come, that’ll be fun.” I nod finishing the cup of tea. 

“I should go pack, I have a long drive tomorrow.” I say getting up, taking the sandwich off my tray and heading to the staff dorms. To get to them I have to walk through the recruit corridors. 

“Why is she such a bitch though? My boots are never going to be dry for inspection tomorrow.” I hear someone say, I stop in my tracks eavesdropping. 

“I heard her husband was killed in action.” Someone else said.

“Doesn't give you the right to be a bitch though.” The first girl said.

“She was special forces before this.” Yet another girl said. 

“What really? Why is she here?” 

“Cos her husband was killed in action dumbass then she went fucking crazy from what I heard.” I crossed my arms taken aback by what I was hearing.

“You’re going to have to dry your boots by the tumble dryers.” One of the girls said I could hear them making their way to the door. I stood there when they opened the door they both jumped. I saw other girls in the room jump out of my line of sight. 

“You girls sure do hear a lot.” I said, they looked embarrassed their cheeks going red. I sighed I couldn’t be bothered to be dishing out disciplines on my last night I just wanted to sleep not be burred in paperwork. I step aside, nodding at them to leave. They rushed past me, I could hear them giggling as the doors closed behind them. I closed my eyes shaking my head and made it to my room. My bag was already packed, I just wanted to sleep, and not speak to anyone. I pulled my clothes off throwing them over the chair for tomorrow then flopping into bed in my underwear. I plug my phone in to charge and roll over in the bed looking at the ceiling in the dark. Maybe going home would be a good thing, maybe I did need a break. Maybe it was time to dust the skeletons out the closet.  

[tanoraqui]

Middle Earth Elvish Profanity Headcanons

“By the Valar!”

Yes it IS weird to take someone’s name in vain when you’ve literally met them. They usually don’t do it.

However, the line between invoking and cursing is blurred, and it’s normal to invoke/pray to a specific Valar for a relevant reason (eg, cursing recalcitrant rosebushes in Yavanna’s name, invoking Tulkas when threatening to smack your sibling upside the head). Sometimes the relevance is that this particular elf is devoted to this particular Valar, and so will invoke them for things outside their domain (eg, Mahtan says “Aulë help me” whenever any of his grandchildren get in new trouble).

There’s also a spectrum of how explicitly you’re referencing a Vala. Saying something like, “stars above” or “for the love of the tides” is implicitly referencing Varda, Ulmo, etc, but it’s also plausibly just about the natural phenomena themselves. Stars especially - Elves were swearing by the stars and cursing by the darkness long before Oromë first found them, and many of the oldest still do.

The next level of intimacy/explicitness is to reference a specific Vala by title, eg, “Lord of the Skies preserve us”, “Smith curse this casting!”, “Dancer speed your feet, because when I catch you I will cut them off!” Something general like, “by the Valar” would also be on this level. 

(NB: while it was...not uncommon in Beleriand to curse by “the Chainer”, “Dark Hunter” or other names for Morgoth, it was regarded as more dire than to reference any other Vala by a similarly semi-personal title. You don’t want to risk drawing his attention.)

Highest, rarest level of cursing by the Valar is of course to name them directly. Especially to name them in Valarin. (No one really does that - though it’s not impossible that Fëanor did in his infamous Oath.) Generally believed (correctly?) to call the Vala’s attention, and thus only done with real intent, OR by those particularly favored by a particular Vala, who know even their frivolous call is welcome. (Eg, Círdan in the most tired voice possible, countless times over the Ages when faced with the latest Noldorin nonsense: “Lord Ulmo.”)

(NB: the Gwaith-y-Mirdain are infamous for expressions like, “[drops hammer on foot] Aulë’s fucking tits!” This is commonly mistaken for arrogance, but actually is because they picked it up from the dwarves of Moria. In general, dwarves are very respectful of their creator, but when you drop a hammer on your foot it HURTS, so they don’t hesitate to complain to him loudly and creatively.)

“Shit”

Cursing by messy bodily functions is always a strong option, though Elves tend to regard it as more juvenile than Men do

“Fuck!”

Elves curse by sex, but with different connotations than Men. Sex is (generally) indistinguishable from both the social contract of marriage and a literal spiritual bonding of fëa, cemented by an oath invoking Eru himself. Very sacred. There’s 1 word in Quenya, and in Sindarin, etc, which means all of this at once, though there’s also less-often-used words meaning individually the physical, social, and spiritual aspects.

“Fuck” is a very coarse way of referencing the physical act only, implicitly reducing the whole sacred thing to the basest part (the social part involving a great deal of community joy, joining of families, etc.)

Other sex-related cursing - “suck it!” “balls” - have connotations of...the things you might do for physical pleasure without diving fully into a fëa bond of marriage. Opinions on such acts range across time and cultures from “blasphemy” to “perfectly normal behavior for younger Elves, or older Elves who haven’t found their soulmate yet”, which affects how satisfyingly rebellious it feels to reference them as profanity.

Other Things to Take in Vain

It’s actually pretty common to swear by “Song”, “the Great Song”, etc. It’s swearing by the holy nature of all creation without bothering anyone specific.

Relatedly, “Arda Marred” is a common curse for petty things, like stubbed toe levels of petty. Connotation: The world is unfair and YES I’m whining about it.

It was common to swear by the Trees in when they were lit, either individually or “the Trees”, but that stopped abruptly in grief once they were destroyed. Swearing by the sun and moon never caught on, despite conscious attempts.

Swearing by individual Maiar is much less common than by individual Valar, but: while for most Elves, invoking “the Queen” in a profanity way means Varda, for Iathrim it usually means Melian.

“Flame Imperishable”...okay, I’m not saying the supporters of the House of Fëanor were a cult, I’m NOT. But it was a...genuinely minor trend, in Formenos, to replace the names/references to the Valar, in curses, with Fëanor’s name - like, a handful of people were doing this, okay? Two dozen at most. As an active political statement. 

But then Everything Happened, including Fëanor dying, and it snowballed (fireballed)...rather fast. The Valar had abandoned them but you know who was plausibly still watching over them as a houseless spirit? Fëanáro! (That was superstition, everyone knew it was superstition. But it was a kind of a comforting one, and anyway, fuck the Valar.)

But all Fëanor’s sons were (varying degrees of) Uncomfortable with both the idea of their father’s unquiet ghost and the idea of venerating their father to minor deitihood, so the general Fëanorian host started using the euphemism “Flame Imperishable.” Which was already something to take in vain, and rarely done so, because it was so very holy a concept! (Arguably it was even more Uncomfortable for Fëanor’s sons than equating their father to “mere” minor deitihood, but at least now there was plausible deniability what people were swearing by.) So this is a win/win, in terms of profaning that which has forsaken and Doomed them! Many Sindar probably picked it up without realizing that it was about anything but the Flame of Creation at all.

But if you know, then you know. And it became so common in East Beleriand that many people forgot the contentiousness of its origin and kept using “Flame Imperishable” as a casual curse phrase after their re-embodiment in Valinor.

...speaking of Fëanor: the Oath! References to the Oath were common curses in East Beleriand and perhaps even the rest of Beleriand. “Elda, Maia and Aftercomer” as an expression of surprise, “Everlasting Darkness” as a curse, etc. In later days, as opinions of the Oath grew darker, “Oath take you.”

References to the Doom were used similarly.

Swearing by the Silmarils was also common throughout the First Age and well into the Second, either as objects of veneration or incredible cursedness.

Swearing by Gil-Estel was quickly popular and never went out of fashion. At first people tried to avoid doing it where Elrond or Elros could hear, including in Númenor, and indeed Elros never did join in, though he didn’t really mind others doing it. At some point in the early-mid Second Age (a few centuries after Elros’s death), Elrond stopped trying to avoid letting it slip into his speech and instead started pulling the power move of just saying “Father” in contexts where anyone else would be swearing by the Star. It’s very analogous to people particularly beloved of a specific Vala casually naming them in oaths. All his children imitate this, “Grandfather”, and Celebrian even picks it up sometimes (”Father-in-law”). 

[justauthoring]

Precious To Us [2]

In other words, you’re Seijoh’s manager.

This chapter, Oikawa’s fangirls.

A/N: Here it is! The second part! I had one person request an idea (thanks @minigranger) and I definitely plan on writing it soon but I love the trope of manager vs. fangirls that I can’t help myself. As usual, please send in ideas :)

Listen, Oikawa’s fangirls are mean.

They just are.

It doesn’t really matter to them that you’re a first year, if they’re supposed to be your seniors, they would probably still be bitches even if you were their seniors and in second/third year.

They seem to think Oikawa’s theirs, even though, of course, he isn’t and if asked, he definitely would deny.

And they see you as a threat.

A big, big threat.

Who gets to see Oikawa everyday? You. Who gets to see him practice every day? You. Who gets a front row to seat to every one of his games? You. And who does he flirt with? You.

It doesn’t matter if you reciprocate the flirting or not -- which of course, you don’t -- they’re jealous and they blame it all on you.

Honestly, the first month of managing is fine. 

Now that you know who Oikawa is and you’re around him more, you do notice the fangirls, but they don’t really bother you and you’re too focused trying to learn the ropes to really care about their constant presence. 

You know you’ve heard some of the other members, namely the third years, complain about them.

About how annoying and distracting they were when it came to practice, or just the mere fact that Oikawa seemed to revel in the attention and love.

You’ve heard them, but you don’t really say anything otherwise because they’ve never done anything to you so you don’t really care either or.

Besides, even if you do think it’s tad bit pathetic, you can’t deny they’re devoted and you guess, in some ways... good for them?

But when you don’t stop being manager, and the rest of the team, namely Oikawa, don’t get sick of you like they all expect them to, and a month passes and you seem to just be thriving, getting a long with everyone, and finally getting the hang of everything?

That’s when they attack.

You’re already late.

And even if you know none of the boys or even the coaches will be upset with you, you do like to be punctual and you absolutely hate being late. So, you’re rushing, practically sprinting through the halls as you try to gather your bearings and organize everything you need to.

You’re already thinking of what drills Oikawa will have the team do, and what you can do to help. Maybe you could bring up some of the notes you’ve made? You’re not a hundred percent on the terms, but Iwaizumi has been helping you, and you’re sure you’ve picked up on a few of the techniques and things you think the boys could improve on.

You didn’t want them to think you’re imposing, but this was the job of the manager wasn’t it? They always reminded you you were more then just a water girl, and that they greatly appreciated anything advice you had for them from an outsider point of view, so maybe--

Landing with a loud thud, a groan leaves your lips as you feel your chin smack against the concrete floor beneath you. It takes you a second to gather your bearings, baffled at how you were suddenly on the ground, and trying to ignore the pain at having bitten your own tongue. But the second you hear laughter, you realized exactly what had happened and your head turns around to stare at the three girls stood above you in bafflement.

They’re laughing at you, quite loudly and obvious mocking you, but your eyes narrow in bafflement when you realize you’re positive you’ve seen them before. You just can’t place your thumb on it. They’re not in your class, one of them doesn’t even seem to be in your year, and you don’t think you’d remember some random face you’d passed in the hall, so--

That’s right. You’ve seen them hanging around Oikawa before, and the one older girl had even snuck into practice one day.

Slowly pushing yourself to your feet, you move to gather your stuff, only for it to be kicked out of your grasp.

“What the--!”

“Listen.”

You blink when the older one, clearly the leader or whatever, is suddenly directly before you, barely a breaths away, glaring down at you.

“You need to quit being manager for Oikawa-san’s volleyball team.”

And your eyes widen, baffled, lips parting as you shake your head; “I don’t--”

“I think you perfectly understand,” the girl behind her sneers, eyes cold.

“We don’t like how close you were with Oikawa-san.”

“And we’re sure Oikawa-san’s sick of seeing your ugly face every day.”

You’re stunned silent. Honestly, you’re not really sure what to say.

“We’ll give you till the end of the week,” the head girl smiles, but it’s a sickly sweet, filling you with dread. “Okay?”

She doesn’t wait for you to respond before her and the other two are walking off, clearly proud of themselves if they way they walk and hold themselves is anything to go by.

It’s takes you five minutes to gather yourself before you start making your way to the gym again for practice.

Part of you wants to just skip and go home but you know the boys would be concerned, more then they probably already are given how late you are, and really, it would just cause more issues in the end anyways.

Besides, you’re never one to skip anyways.

You don’t cry. You’re not really sure why because you definitely want to, but the tears never come and then you’re suddenly in the gym and everyone's rushing towards you in concern, questions leaving their lips rapidly as to why you were so late.

You brush them off, and it almost works, before Iwaizumi takes notice of the dried blood on the corner of your lip that you’d regrettably missed when cleaning yourself up earlier and the scrape underneath your chin.

“What happened to your chin, Y/N? You’re bleeding.”

He steps towards you, but you brush him off.

“I just tripped is all. Bit my tongue.”

You smile and hope it’s enough to convince them, but even if Iwaizumi looks like he wants to argue, Oikawa’s already pulling him back onto the court.

“You’re so clumsy, Y/N-chan! You really do need to be more careful!”

Some of the boys laugh and you do too, forcing yourself to pretend like everything’s fine even though you can physically feel yourself shaking.

But even as he’s being dragged away, Iwaizumi is still eyeing you and you don’t let him grow anymore suspicious then you can tell he is. You send him a soft smile, and then turn, making your way over to the coach to see where you can help for the day.

And it continues on like that for week. 

By the next day, every seems to have forgotten you being late and only Makki makes a teasing comment about the cat themed bandaid on your chin to which you begrudgingly shove him away with a shrill “it’s the only ones we have!” and you seem more like yourself then you had the day before that by the second day, even Iwaizumi has relaxed.

By the end of the week, even he seems to have forgotten about it.

But you haven’t. 

And it being the end of the week has you scared.

Kindaichi seems to notice your weird behaviour in class, especially now that the two of you tend to stick together now that you’re acquainted. But you brush him off every time he asks, saying you just felt ill.

He seems to believe it fine.

Luckily for you, nothing happens.

You’re on edge all day expecting something to happen, but nothing ever does.

Aiko, the third year and clear ring leader of that little group, never approaches you. In fact, you don’t see her once all day, which that in itself isn’t odd since you’re in different years, but you had expected to see her lackies -- either Makoto, a first year like you, or even Nami, a second year.

But you don’t.

By the final bell, you’re relieved.

It was just a mindless threat. It didn’t mean anything clearly, and they had just been poking fun, and honestly you were fine with that -- so long as you didn’t have to deal with them again.

You’d just have to be more wary of the fangirls. Maybe they weren’t as kind as you thought you were, and clearly they thought you posed some kind of threat (even though you definitely didn’t) so you’d just keep it in mind and--

“I’m pretty sure we told you by the end of the week.”

It’s a harsh thud, you don’t fall to the ground like you did last time, but you do thud against the lockers which dig painfully into your back. And regrettably you let a small cry in response, which pales in comparison to the cry of pain that leaves your lips when one of them grab a chunk of your hair and tug, hard.

Pushing at the hands that grab at you, you spin, not surprise to see the same three as before, sneering down at you.

Aiko spits down at you. “Clearly you didn’t listen.”

“I’m not gonna just quit,” you whisper, feigning the confidence to speak up for yourself. Your eyes narrow up at her, even though your heart is racing madly against you chest, and shake your head adamantly. “I love managing the volleyball team, and it’s not even because of Oikawa-senpai! I love being will all the boys, and I won’t let you--!”

“You really are just a slut.”

You’re stunned silent, lips left parted.

“Listen, I gave you a week, you didn’t listen.” Aiko scoffs, shaking her head as she brushes her hair back, glaring down at you. “I’ll show you what happens when I don’t get my way.”

She strikes you hard, across the cheek, and naively, you think that’s it. You can handle some punches and kicks, because you really don’t want to give up the one thing that’s made you happy for the first time in a long time. Even as the hits continue, and your body starts to ache, you think,

I can handle this.

But still, you end up skipping practice that day. You blame it on the fact the fact that you just didn’t want to have to explain why you looked so battered and messed up, knowing this time no amount of lying was going to get you out of this one. Because, really, it wouldn’t just be Iwaizumi suspicious this time -- all the boys will be, and then they’ll probably talk to the coach and...

and, it’s just to much a fuss for you. So, you skip, sending a text to Oikawa explaining that you weren’t feeling well and you’d be back Monday and to please apologize on the coaches behalf for you.

But you don’t go back the next day.

When you open your locker the next Monday, your homework that you’d finished during lunch to previous day to get a head start is ruined. Completely and wholeheartedly ruined.

And when you glance around, the first thing you see is Makoto from across the hallway, smirking at you.

But you don’t have any proof.

So, you suck back the tears that threaten to fall, and sulk to your first class where you know the teacher will be less then pleased.

And of course she isn’t, but she simply sighs and tells you that if you don’t have it in by tomorrow, she’ll have to give you a failing grade. 

Embarrassed and upset, you walk to your seat, ignoring Kindaichi’s watchful gaze as you sink into your seat.

But it only gets worse from there.

The second class starts, a note is tossed onto your desk.

You eye, confused, glancing around for who threw it, only for everyone to be faced forward, before glancing briefly at Kindaichi’s whose watching your curiously.

Slowly, you open it.

Is it true you actually slept with all of the volleyball team?

Laughter echoes, but when you look up, there’s three girls staring at you, all mockingly.

Kindaichi leans forward, trying to grab the note but you pull it from his grasp, avoiding his gaze.

He cannot see that.

And when the class ends, you narrowly avoid Kindaichi who calls for you, rushing out of the class, only for someone to bump into you the second you make it out, shoving harshly into your shoulder.

“Slut.” The voice sneers.

Your lips part, and you glance up, feeling your vision blur, but when you glance around, you suddenly notice the looks everyone’s giving you, and the way they laugh and sneer at you.

But what really makes you break is when you turn, feeling like everyone’s against you, and find Kindaichi staring at you with parted lips, obviously confused, and you just can’t hold it back then, turning without another word, and running off.

The day continues like that, and after lunch, which you spent alone hidden in a bathroom stall, you see Iwaizumi and Oikawa ahead of you, smiling when they notice you.

They look as if they want to talk, but you know then you absolutely cannot like that happen, for multiple reasons, so you turn around quickly, running off in the opposite direction despite the way they call after you.

You don’t go back to practice like you said you would.

And neither do you Tuesday.

When Wednesday rolls around, and every laughs at you when you walk pass them in the halls, or sneers at you, or looks at you like you’re the most disgusting thing, you go to the office when you realize you can’t handle this any longer.

No matter how much you love being on the team and managing the boys. 

Little do you know, in class, Kindaichi notices the odd coloured paper in your hands and curiously, maybe even worriedly (because there’s a sinking feeling in his gut) peers over your shoulder as subtle as he can, lips parting when he reads the header.

Permission to quite a club form.

“I think Y/N’s going to quite the team.”

It’s the first words he says when he enters the club room that day, and it makes everybody pause.

Silence echoes, and slowly, unsurely, Yahaba shakes his head; “what-what are you talking about, Kindaichi? I thought Y/N said she just wasn’t feeling well, which is why--”

“I saw the form this morning,” Kindaichi shakes his head, “I know what I read.”

Oikawa shakes his head. “Y/N would’ve talked to us first if something was upsetting her. She wouldn’t just--”

“Haven’t you guys heard the rumours going around?”

It’s Kunimi who speaks this time, his voice the similar drawl it always is, but if you look at him close enough, it’s easy to tell that he’s concerned. Upset even. And he looks disgusted as he speaks, eyeing Kindaichi first, almost knowingly, before turning to the other boys.

Iwaizumi’s brows furrow; “what are you talk--”

“I think someone’s been bullying her,” Kindaichi frowns. “It started at the beginning of the week. Y/N came in with her homework ruined, which I thought was weird, because she always is so careful with her work and makes sure it’s done early. And then someone tossed this note onto her desk but she wouldn’t let me read it, and she wouldn’t talk to me or even look at me all class. Then, when class was over, people were... well--”

“There’s a rumour going around that’s she’s slept with all of us.”

It’s Kunimi who finishes it, Kindaichi’s face beet red, which quite a few of the boys mimic seconds later when Kunimi finishes.

But Oikawa? Oikawa just looks pissed.

“What?”

Kindaichi blanches, looking absolutely terrified; “I thought you knew! I didn’t--”

Oikawa storms past him, Iwaizumi quick to follow, and then Mattsun and Makki are right behind them. The first and second years glance at each other, before slowly following them, and sure enough the third years are heading straight for the gym, to which none of them are surprised to find you there, a form in your shaky hands as you stare at Coach Mizoguchi.

You turn to them with wide eyes, clearly having hoped to finish before any of the boys started practice. But Mizoguchi looks relieved. “Thank God you boys are here,” he breathes, standing up to which you try to stop him, but he isn’t listening, “Y/N wants to quit, but I really think she should talk to you first,” he’s looking directly at Oikawa, “she won’t tell me why. And please Y/N,” he turns to you, “I think you should reconsider.”

“We’ll talk to her,” Oikawa cuts in, voice oddly low before you can say anything.

Mizoguchi smiles, nodding at you before making his way over the gym obviously in search of Irihata. Instantly the tension thickens when you’re left alone with all eyes directly and solely on you.

It takes a second to find the words. “I’m sorry I didn’t talk to any of you about it, but I...” And your voice falters, even you can’t help the way your voice quivers. “I think it’s best if I just quit.”

“You’re not quitting.” It’s Iwaizumi who speaks this time, and his voice is so firm, so sure, even if you’re not sure how to argue against it.

“But I-I--”

“You don’t need to quite,” Oikawa shakes his head, stepping towards you and pulling the form from your grasp with ease. You watch with parted lips as he simply rips it right in front of you, tossing it aside without much care, before glancing back at the rest, namely the other third years, turning back to you. “Now, tell us, who told you you had to quit?”

And your eyes bulge. How did he--

“Kindaichi and Kunimi told us about everything,” Iwaizumi starts, moving towards you, as your eyes fall to the first years, watching the way they both, even Kunimi, stare after you in concern. “We know someone’s been bothering you, so, just tell us.”

“We’ll help you,” Watari adds with a smile, hesitantly speaking up.

And you pause, unsure. But then you stare at them all watching you carefully, and see how all of them care so much, more then you ever thought they did and you’re reminded of why you’d refused to quit in the first place. Reminded of how much you love managing the volleyball team and no matter how much you were scared and hurt, you didn’t want to lose it all.

Lose them.

“It’s... It’s a few, three actually, of Oikawa-senpai’s fangirls,” you mumble, voice low, head turned downwards. “They... They don’t like how much time I spend with him, so they... they told me to quit and when I refused, they...” You don’t need to finish.

There’s a pause, before a slap echoes. 

“Somehow I knew this was your fault, Shittykawa.”

“Ow!” Oikawa cries, “Iwa-chan, it’s not like I...” But he seems to pause, lips parting as he glances down at you, his heart breaking slightly at the tears in your eyes.

Stepping forward, he pulls you into a hug, and you let him; “I’m sorry, Y/N-chan, I didn’t know they were hurting you.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“It kinda is,” Mattsun comments, stepping forward as he smiles down at you, ruffling your hair. “It’s easier to blame him anyways.”

“I agree,” Makki laughs.

And even you find yourself laughing lightly.

“Really, Y/N-chan? Even you too?”

“Sorry.”

Then, everyone turns serious; “I’ll talk to them,” Oikawa frowns. “What they did isn’t okay. I won’t let them get away with it. They’ll never bother you again, Y/N.”

And you’re surprised by how serious he is.

But things do get better.

Aiko never bothers you again, nor does any other one of Oikawa’s fangirls.

Oikawa even makes her apologize, and even you have to admit the absolute mortification on her face makes everything a lot better.

The boys try to stop the rumour, but it’s easier said then done, though, the fame of it all does dwindle and you’re not snided in the hallways so much anymore.

It’s kind of hard to when you usually have one of the third years walking you to and from class anyways.

Besides, they’re your friends, and even if everyone else hates you, they don’t.

And that’s all that matters to you.

[imnotgoinghome]

Time Flies When Your in Love

Summary: One simple bump in the shoulder can lead to a lot more

It felt pretty weird. Being 17, going to a new school for the first time since kindergarten. No friends, No idea where your class is, and a thousand people staring at you as you walk past them. You could feel the knot in your stomach. The pain only got worse as you walked down the hallway. Hundreds of people had bumped into you, but one of them hit you hard enough to knock the books right out of your hands.

“Omg I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you!”

You looked up to see a boy standing tall above you. All you could do was stare into his eyes. You were left speechless. His eyes were like black holes, the more you stared into them, the deeper you became. You suddenly felt words come to your mouth.

“Oh no it’s okay. I just dropped my books that’s all…” you said as you started to pick up your books.

“Do you need any help…?” The boy offered nicely.

He helped you pick up your books, which felt kinda out of the ordinary. All morning

people had stared at you as you walked down the halls for the first time. People weren’t that nice to you, some laughed at you, and others just stared. You figured that the boy would just keep walking, but he helped you. He was nice to you. You didn’t think much of it, but for some reason you had a feeling that this boy was different then the other kids.

“Thanks, but you didn’t have to do that…

I could’ve done it by myself.”

“Oh come on, I’m the reason they’re in the floor. The least I could do is help. It’s no problem really.” He insisted. “Oh, I never got your name.” He said, slightly laughing.

“oh um… my names y/n…. Y/n

Y/L/n” you told him.

“Wow, y/n… it suits you. Oh and I’m Peter, by the way. Peter Parker.”

“Peter Parker… I like it. It has a nice ring to it.” You said dramatically.

“Why thank you miss Y/n Y/L/n.” Peter said, bowing. “So is today your first day? I haven’t seen you before.” He asked still laughing.

“Yeah, I actually just moved here, so still new to the whole…” you said gesturing to the school. “You know” you said slightly laughing.

“Oh believe, I know. I get it, I had a terrible first day” Peter said laughing. “This kid named flash pushed me down the stairs… yeah that was not fun” he added as you put your hand over or mouth.

“Omg… that sounds like it hurts” you said, with your hand over your mouth, in a slightly muffled voice.

“Yeah it did. So I get it. If you ever need to vent about something bad that happens or happened to you, believe I’ll understand” he said as he smiled.

You took your hand away from your mouth. “Well I might just have to take you up in that sometime, Mr. Parker” You said comedically. “Oh and could you show me the way to room 104? You know how, when your new, you have no idea where anything is, that’s how I feel right now” you said as you once again gestured to the school.

“Yeah, that’s actually my first class so it’s not that hard to find” he said as he smiled.

“Thanks. You know I really appreciate all this. The apology, the help with my books, and now your walking me to class. Your a really nice guy, Peter.” You said as you two began to walk down the hallway.

“Oh it’s so hard… you know, cause all of us guys are so tough, and we’re hate all girls, and we just suck in general.” He said sarcastically.

You laughed. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant no one has really paid attention to me and didn’t really care. So I appreciate you caring.” You said as you laughed.

“Welcome to Mid-Town High, where people are on concerned about themselves!” Peter said enthusiastically.

“Thanks” you said through a laugh.

You and Peter walked to class, talking the entire time. You seemed to really bond, like you were met to be friends. When you reached the classroom door, Peter went in first, and you waited a minute to just breath. When you walked in, the teacher stopped what she was doing to introduced you to the class.

“Okay, everyone settle down, we have a new student joining us today. Everyone this is Y/n.” You waved.

“Y/n you can sit by Peter.” She pointed to Peter. The boy you had just walked to class with was now the person you sat by. You nodded to the teacher and went sit down

“I’m sorry, do I know you?” You said in a whisper once you sat down.

“Let me think” he replied. “No, sorry” he said quietly, making you giggle.

Class went on for what felt like forever. You got tired of listening about ten minutes in. You already knew what the lesson was about. You had learned it last year. You had been taking notes, but that soon turned useless. You had already written all of it down, so you just fiddled and tapped your pen, but ended up deciding to draw.

Peter noticed how a lot of your drawing were of daisies, which was your favorite flower. He loved how you took your time, making everything prefect. He also saw that you had began to write notes but stopped. He never took notes, unless it was for his own personal needs, not for school. He couldn’t help but noticed how you signed the pages with your signature. You prefect signature. Everything about you was prefect, or at least, to him it was.

He knew he couldn’t ask you, he would be to nervous. So he did the only thing he could think of. He wrote a note. When he was done, and happy with it, he slid the blue stick note on to the top of your notebook page, not wanting to mess up anything you were doing. You saw the little piece of paper on your notebook and opened it.

[Do you have any plans for lunch? I was wondering if you would want to sit with me. A couple of my friends will be there too, but I’m sure they’ll love you… anyway hope this isn’t weird, but I think we get along great and that we could be really good friends, so um just let me know… —Peter]

You read the note, smiling. You tried to play it cool, but in the inside you were screaming. You quickly pulled out a little pad of pink sticker notes and wrote on it.

[Ok, first off it’s cute that you think you need to write a note to get my attention. And second of course I’ll sit with you at lunch. And last but not least, it’s not that weird, I felt it too. I mean we did kinda bond. And I can’t wait to met your friends. —Y/n :)]

When you were happy with it, you pulled it off the pad and stuck it to your finger. You slid the note on to his notebook. When he saw it, he quickly picked it up and read it. He had been so nervous as to what you might say, he wasn’t really breathing. He let out a huge sigh of relief when he finished reading it. Saying he was happy was an understatement. He could’ve screamed, but you were in class and he didn’t really want to cause any problems. So he picked up his sticky notes and wrote a little note.

[Whatcha drawing?]

He slid it onto your notebook.

[ Just some flowers. It’s what I do when I’m bored, I draw. It also helps me focus… it’s kinda weird I know, but it helps, so I just do it. I get in trouble for it a lot, but hey, what helps, helps…]

You hit him in the shin with your foot and quickly passed him the note under the table. You didn’t want the teacher to see what you were doing, because who dose? He read it with a smile on his face.

[That’s not that weird. I mean, I can do some pretty weird things too]

He passed the note to you, after waiting for the teacher to look away.

[Like what?]

You asked him curiously. He seemed like a pretty normal guy to you, so when he said he can do some pretty weird things, it kinda of confused you. Too you he was just Peter Parker, but what you didn’t know was that he was also Spider-Man. No one knew except him. He hadn’t told anyone, not even his aunt. He knew he had said a little to much, but there was no going back now. So he lied, he wanted to tell you, but he wasn’t ready. And he didn’t want to tell you through a note. He wanted it to mean something.

[Well there’s a lot of thing you don’t know about me. Hey, Are you doing anything after school today?]

[no, why?]

[we’ll do you wanna hang out after school? We could go to Mr Delmars or the park or idk.. like we could just get to know each other, if you want to. I don’t want to force you to hang out with me or anything. But do you wanna?]

He was so nervous. He really hoped you’d say yes, but part of him thought you would say no. I mean you had just met him an hour ago, but he was prefect. He had the most beautiful floppy, curly, brown hair you had ever seen. And his eyes had a certain gleam to them which sparked in the light. He was prefect in every way possible, well to you at least.

[Wow Peter Parker, to ask a girl you just met an hour ago to hang out with you after school, that takes guts. I would love to “hang out” after school today… :)]

You pasted Peter the note, catching the teachers attention.

“Excuse me do we have a problem?” the teacher asked staring at you and Peter. “No ma’am.” You quickly said, trying not to laugh. “No problem here.” Peter Added making it more believable.

You were telling the truth. Nothing was wrong, you just didn’t really want the teacher to know that Peter basically just asked you out. You knew he would be so embarrassed if she read it out loud, especially if she read all the notes. So you didn’t tell her what you were doing. The be far, it’s not like you lied. She just didn’t ask for every detail, so you just didn’t tell her. She eyed you suspiciously. She was determined to find something out of place or extra on your table, but she couldn’t. You just have her a thumbs up, and said “I’m sorry” in sign language, which she understood. So she did what any good teacher would do and continued her lesson. When she looked away you quickly wrote something down and gave it to Peter.

[What?!?! Can you believe she believed us? Are all teacher this gullible?? What the heck!]

You were genuinely confused. You had never had a teacher that was that gullible. You had gotten used to getting in trouble for drawing or writing notes to your friends in class, but you had never gotten away with it. This was the first time a teacher didn’t question you.

[This is the first time she has ever let anything like passing notes slid. Honestly it’s kinda scary. :|]

Peter was confused too. He knew the teacher had seen the notes, they were all over his desk. He was amazed that she didn’t take them and read them to the class or something. He was just as confused as you were. You two shared a confused, yet amazed glance. You decided to continue your conversation after class and just try to focus on the lesson. After a while the bell rang. The bell that meant class was over. Everybody rushed out of the classroom. You and Peter walked out before the teacher could stop up. You didn’t want to have to explain your conversation. You started walking down the hallway together, jaws dropped.

“Can you believe that?” You asked as you giggled, looking at Peter.

“How did she fall for that?” He said slightly laughing.

“Man I didn’t know teachers could be so gullible. I thought they were better then that” you said making Peter laugh even harder.

“They really need to step up their game.” You added once the laughter died down.

“Yeah they do. And by the way, I didn’t think it was weird. It’s different, but not entirely weird.” He said making you giggle.

“Thanks. It’s good to know that the first person I met at my new school doesn’t think I’m a total nut job just yet.” You said making him laugh.

“Just yet?” He asked, still slightly laughing.

“Oh once you get to know me, you’ll change you mind…” you said, coming to a stop.

“Well I’m sure that once I get to know you you’ll be just as weird as you are know” he said through a smile.

“What like your not weird… dude you know everything!” You said playfully hitting him in the arm.

“Says the girl that was drawing the entire class” he said, making you sarcastically drop your jaw, putting your hand on your chest.

“Is Peter Parker making fun of me? Wow I never thought this day would come… it hurts, even when a nerd dose it…” you said looking at the floor.

“Hey, hey, hey… just because I’m smart doesn’t mean I’m a nerd…” he said jokingly.

“Dude, have you heard of stereotypes? Yeah it kinda dose!” You said looking wide eyed at him.

“Wow… that hurt more then when Flash says it… I’m offended that you would stereotype me…” he said slightly hurt, but mostly joking.

“Look dude, I’ve known you for like two hours ok? I don’t even know you.” You said the last part sarcastically as you started to walk off.

“Ok that’s not fair!” He said raising his voice a little.

“Uh yeah it is!” You said turning around. “I’ll see you at lunch loser!” You added turning around again and walking off.

Peter just stood there for a minute taking in your conversation. He had only known you for about two hours, but he felt like he knew everything about you. He had just made the best friend he had ever had. He had no idea how it all happened, but it did.

The flood gates were opened when the bell rang. People spilling out of the school, going every direction. You waited for Peter by his locker, which just so happen to be right next to yours. He ran over to you when he saw you.

“Hi” Peter said sounding kinda nervous.

“You don’t have to be nervous” you said through a sarcastic smile.

“Right, sorry” he said shaking his head, slightly laughing.

“It’s okay, your pretty awkward.” You said making him laugh. “Anyway, should we get going?” You said making him smile.

“Sure…. But just double checking, where are we going? You never said.” Peter Said still slightly laughing.

“I guess I didn’t, um well why don’t we go to Delmars.” You said playfully.

“Ok so I know where to walk now.” He said turning to the street to the right.

You stood there laughing as Peter, who you know considered your best friend, started to walk but quickly stop himself, knowing that he was going the wrong direction. He turned around to you.

“Sorry, my brain is not working right now” he said as he pointed himself in the right direction.

After you and Peter got your sandwiches, you had decided to bring them back to your apartment building. But that was two years ago. Everything had changed now, except for Peter Parker. He was still your best friend in the whole world. Sure you had graduated high school, but he was still there. He had had some pretty rough times too. He had his identity revealed to the whole world, then had everyone forget who he was, of course after all the crazy villains he had to fight. But for so reason you never forgot Peter. When he found out that you remembered him, he couldn’t have been happier. Well, that’s a lie, he could have been happier. There was one thing in the entire world that he wanted more then anything. It was also something you wanted, but he didn’t know that. You hadn’t known how he was feeling and didn’t want to ruin your entire friendship with the three words you had been wanting to say since day one.

You told Peter to met you on the roof because you had a surprise for him. This was it, no going back. It was time he knew the truth. You couldn’t keep it in any longer. So you decided to tell him.

“How’s my favorite Spidery?” You asked playfully as you opened the door to the roof.

“Are you ever gonna drop that?” Peter asked standing up.

“Ok look, I’m the only person on this plant who knows you exist, so I feel like I can call you whatever I want” you said as you got closer to him.

“Please down remind me, and that’s harsh” he said as he took the sandwich out of your hand. “Thanks for the sandwich” he said as he went to sit on the ledge.

“Wow that— that hurt.” You stated dramatically as you sit next to him.

“Look at that sunset” Peter pointed out. It looked like a painting. It was beautiful.

“Wow, it’s beautiful” you added as you put your head on Peter’s chest. You had made your way to so chairs on the roof, they were safer then a ledge. Peter had made you sit with him because you got cold. You were sitting in-between his legs, your head on his chest.

“Not as beautiful as you” Peter said, completely serious.

“Ok, wow, I didn’t not expect my best friend to flirt with me” you said as you sat up and faced him.

“I was not flirting” he started, making you laugh.

“First he flirts, and now he lies… who are you?” You asked after a slight pause, making the question a little more dramatic then it had to be.

“A guy who likes to complement his best friend, and who cares about her” he said scooting closer to you.

“Wow, that was the worst lie I’ve ever heard” you said through a questionable smile, making him laugh. You stood up and started walking over to the ledge.

“Oh come on really? I didn’t think it was that bad” he said making you giggle as he walked over to you. You were staring at the tiny people you could just barley see.

“Can you believe that we’ve been friends for two years now? Seems like just yesterday we collided into each other in the hallway at school” You said turning to him.

“I know, do you remember when the teacher caught us passing notes? You weren’t fazed, and I was freaking out in my head. I honestly thought we might go to jail” Peter added making you laugh. He turned to face you. You noticed something in his hand but didn’t say anything.

“Yeah, you looked so scared.” You said playfully.

“I have something to tell you. And it’s really important, or at least, to me.” You didn’t know what to say after Peter’s confession, so you just nodded. He took what looked like a sticky note out of his hand and gave it to you.

“Really? A note? Are we in 3rd grade?” You asked jokingly.

“Just reads it please, I’m trying to confess something here, don’t make this hard on me” Peter said as he threw his head back. He looked back at you as you opened the note.

[im in love with you]

The five words you had been waiting to say to him, he just said to you. You read the note a thousand times. You literally couldn’t have been happier.

“You really mean it?” You asked a little suspicious, but over joyed at the same time.

“Yeah…” Peter said, quietly looking at the ground.

You quickly pulled out your sticky notes and a pen, you had started keeping them with you when you met Peter, and wrote a few words down.

[Hate to break it to you, but I’m in love with you too…]

“Here” you gave the note to Peter. He looked at you like you were crazy, but read the note.

“Wait did we just confess our love for each other through notes?” Peter asked when he read it.

“What can I say, we’re just 3rd grades. We are stupid dumb children who—”

“Just shut up and come here” Peter cut you off. He didn’t want to listen to you talk anymore. So he did the thing he had been wanted to do since he met you. He kissed you. You were surprised at first, but soon you were kissing him back. You arms made their way around his neck as his hands made their to waist, soon making their way to the back pockets of your jeans. It was like the weight of the world had been lifted off your shoulders. You let the kiss linger. Neither of you had be kissed before, but you were happy that you could share it together. You pulled away and looked at Peter, wide eyed.

“I love you” you said kinda childish, making Peter laugh.

“I love you too” he said childish back, making you giggle and take your arms away from his neck. He took his hands out of your jean pockets and intertwined his fingers with yours.

“Oh, I have something for you” Peter said as he suddenly remembered something. “Here” he said handing you a blue sticky note.

[Y/n Y/L/n, will you be my girlfriend?]

You read the note, laughing.

“Wow Peter, I didn’t know you had the ability to ask such a question.” You said jokingly. Peter was normally a pretty awkward guy, except when he was with you. He felt safe around you, he trusted you, he loved you.

“Well there’s a lot of things you don’t know about me…” he said, closing the gap between you. Your hands made their way around his neck, as his made their to your waist once again.

[roseweaslies]

can’t sleep / s.b.

sirius black x potter!reader. after sirius leaves his family to come and live with the potters, y/n sneaks into his room to check on him after everyone has gone to bed.

word count: 2.2k

warnings/contains: smut!

masterlist ϟ requests are open.

Y/N knocked delicately on the door, partially to not startle Sirius but also to not risk waking her parents or James. The last thing she needed was any of them to see her sneaking into the guest room, where a very handsome boy her age was sleeping, at this hour. She had tossed and turned in bed for at least an hour but found her thoughts racing. She was worried. Sirius was safe but she knew he wasn’t fine. There was no way anyone could be in such a situation, even if he insisted… which wouldn’t surprise her.

“Sirius…” she whispered, her face close to the door. “Sirius. Can I come in?”

His shaking voice mustered a small “yeah,” and she turned the door handle, looking back and forth to make sure she was still alone in the hallway. Y/N opened the door slowly, only enough for her to slip into the room, and quietly shut it behind her. Sirius laid down on the bed, on top of the covers, facing away from her. He stared out the window at the sheets of rain hitting against the glass. His hair was still a little damp but at least he had changed into a set of James’ pajamas, a navy plaid set.

“Did I wake you?”

“No,” he scoffed. His tone made her expect him to follow up with a snarky As if I could. But she knew it was his way of covering up the sadness. “Can’t sleep.”

Wordlessly she walked over to the bed and sat down next to him, pulling her knees up to her chest. “How are you feeling?”

She saw him shrug as much as he could given his position. 

“Fine.” 

“Sirius…”

“I don’t know,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I feel weirdly okay, I guess. Don’t miss them. Nothing they said was anything I haven’t heard before… only it was all at once. It’s just weird, I suppose. To finally have done it.”

Y/N could only nod, not knowing what else there was to say. 

“I’m sorry,” she tried.

“S’okay,” he muttered. He flipped around to look at her and propped himself up on one arm. His eyes held a deep sadness but he plastered a goofy smile on his face. “You look beautiful.”

She scoffed at his predictability. “There’s the Sirius Black I know,” she said as she leaned down to kiss him, delicately placing her hand on his cheek. 

“Ever the charmer,” she mumbled against his lips.

“I mean it,” he mumbled back, his voice a low drawl.

Deepening their kiss, he guided her to lay down and crawled on top of her, his kisses getting more desperate with every second. Her hands tangled themselves in his dark hair as he slid his under her shirt. When he realized she wasn’t wearing a bra, he smirked against her mouth as he grabbed one of her breasts and ran his fingers over her nipple slowly. She let out a small squeal which only made him tease her more.

Continuing to rub his hands all over her torso and chest, Sirius would occasionally grind his hips into hers, getting harder with each moan and gasp she let out. Their movements were frantic. Breaking their kiss, he moved his lips to her jaw, then up to her ear.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N/N,” he whispered, the hot air blowing against her ear making her shiver. He gave the lope a small lick before trailing his lips down to her neck. He carelessly began to kiss with more force, undoubtedly leaving marks she would have to hide from her family the next day, the muggle way. At least at Hogwarts she could magic it away. 

“Sirius,” she gasped as his lips met a particularly sensitive spot. His little laugh against her neck made her want to melt on the spot, but when he felt his hand slide into her silk pajama pants, she put a hand on his chest to signal him to stop.

“Wait, Sirius…”

“Yeah?” he said, pulling away from her neck and taking his hand out of her pants. He looked at her with those eyes, so full of care and adoration and earnestness that she rarely saw from him… except for when he was looking at her. He rolled off of her and she sat up.

“I… I don’t want you to be doing this because you’re sad--”

“I’m not that sad.”

“Or because you’re lonely, or because you think that James and my parents and I are the only people that love you and you’re trying to hold onto something--”

“Love?” he said, smirking.

She froze. “You know what I mean.”

“I don’t think I do, Y/N Y/M/N Potter,” he cocked an eyebrow at her and didn’t drop the playful smirk.

“Stop.”

“I love you,” he said, his voice confident.

Her face fell and her breath hitched. All of a sudden, she felt lightheaded.

“You… you what?” she sputtered out.

“You heard what I said.”

“Are you serious?” she spoke, her voice hardly above a whisper.

“Love, that’s my name,” he teased.

“Answer the question.”

“Dead serious,” he said, pressing a chaste kiss to her lips. “I love you.”

“I-I love you too,” she said. It felt weird to say out loud, to admit it with so much sureness.

“Good,” he smirked, cupping her face and kissing her without abandon. She eagerly kissed him back and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him as close to her as humanly possible. Their lips were pressed together so tightly that they were sure to have a faint bruise to them the next day, but neither Y/N or Sirius cared.

“I need you,” he pulled away and pressed little kisses all over her face. Her cheeks, her forehead, her eyelids, and back to her mouth, which elicited a moan.

“A-are you sure?”

“Not like it’s our first rodeo, love,” he whispered.

“We have to be quiet,” she said.

“I think I can manage. It’s you I’m worried about.”

She pulled away and swatted at his arm. “Hey!” she whisper-yelled.

He chuckled as quietly as possible and pulled her face back towards him. “You’re cute when you’re stressed.”

“I am not--” before she could finish, Sirius connected their lips and pushed her gently to lie down.

Their hands clashed as they both reached for one another’s crotches, causing them to separate briefly to giggle. They quickly shushed one another with a kiss and Sirius moved Y/N’s hand out of the way. He slid his hand into her pants and began to rub gently, teasing her folds. She kissed him harder, anything to stop her from making noises.

His hand moved slowly and her legs tensed, eagerly awaiting more of his touch. His thumb circled her clit and one of her hands flew up into his hair, pulling on the dark strands.

He pulled his hand away and broke the kiss -- it took everything in Y/N not to groan at the loss of contact. “May I?” he asked, motioning towards the waistband of her pants. All she gave was a quick nod and she shimmied out of her pajamas as he guided them down her legs and tossed them off the bed dramatically. Before he could kiss her again, she speedily unbuttoned his shirt and followed in his dramatic fashion, throwing the garment aside. Her lips met his neck as he teased her entrance with his finger for a few seconds, muttering something about how wet she was. She nearly bit down on his neck when he slipped a finger inside of her, but instead settled for pressing long kisses on the spot where his neck met his shoulder and digging her nails into the other shoulder.

He entered a second finger and they moved swiftly and carefully, the way he knew she liked it. He curled his slender fingers ever so slightly and her grip on his shoulder tightened. Her lips found his and they resumed their frantic kissing, his movements speeding up with the motions of their kiss. 

She whined against his mouth, an action he knew was her quiet form of begging.

“Sirius, I’m-” she pulled away to warn him of her incoming high and he slowed down, causing her to sigh at the change in pleasure.

“Not yet,” he removed his fingers and unbuttoned her shirt, his eyes widening as they always did at the sight of her. He removed her shirt more delicately than he had moved her pants, taking his time to slide the fabric over her shoulders.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, pressing a kiss against her collarbone. Her face warmed and she just mumbled a ‘love you’ as her form of thanks. His mouth moved from her collarbones to her chest, stopping at her breasts to swirl his tongue around each of her nipples. She arched her back and he sucked harder for a moment before trailing a line of kisses down her stomach. He teased her by peppering kisses all over the inside of her thighs. Her fingers found their rightful place in his hair and prompted by a quick tug, he immediately pressed his mouth against her clit. 

One of her hands clasped around her mouth to cover up the moan threatening to spill out. He had mastered the perfect balance of kissing, sucking, and licking, and worked on her clit like it’s what he was put on the earth to do. His eyes flickered up to see hers rolling back, and her teeth biting down on one of her fingers to stifle a moan. He had grown impossibly hard.

“Please, I need you… now,” her breath was laboured and Sirius took note of her shaking legs. He was more than happy to oblige her request.

Taking off his own pants and briefs, he fumbled a little bit, both his hands and legs shaking with excitement. He felt electric. Despite everything that had occurred that day, nothing mattered but her and the two of them together and the way he loved her more than he thought he would ever love anyone.

He slid into her and sighed at the feeling of her around him. “Oh my-”

She swallowed his moans by capturing his lips, but it was hardly any use, they still made noise, only into the other’s mouth. They couldn’t help it.

They had done this dozens of times before but now it was different. They loved each other. They knew it. He was free from the shackles of his family… there would be no criticism of their relationship. Sure, they had hurdles when it came to her family… but that didn’t matter. It was just them, together, connected, and so in love.

He moved at a painfully slow pace and she raised her hips to feel as much of him as she could. “Faster, please,” she muttered. 

He nodded and did just that, his thrusts practically erratic. If she could she would scream. He would moan her name like no tomorrow if her family wasn’t down the hall. Her nails dug into his back, sure to leave scratches that frankly, she would be very proud of. He reached one hand between them to play with her clit and the knot in her stomach tightened. She had never wished she could scream, call out his name, anything, so badly. Instead she just continued to kiss him, so hard that their teeth knocked. She dug into his back with one hand but the other made its way up to his hair where it tugged nearly hard enough to disconnect their lips (if he had less willpower, maybe).

Practically delirious, Y/N was whispering and moaning nonsense against his lips. Sirius could barely make any of her words out but he did manage to catch the very exciting ‘finish inside me’ and ‘i’m close’.

He slowed down his thrusts but sped up the thumb that was playing with her clit. Her legs began to shake and her lips became weaker against him. “Cum for me, darling,” he moved his lips to his ears and whispered those words over and over, giving her earlobe a small lick between each word. 

It only took a few more thrusts and a particularly skilled swipe of his thumb for her to shove her face into his shoulder and let out what, if he didn’t know any better, sounded like a sob. He felt her entire body shaking and considered pulling out, finding another way to sort himself out, but she wrapped her legs around her hips and pulled him closer.

“I want to feel you… all of you,” she drawled. Her post high voice was higher pitched, breathier, and honestly, did make it sound a little bit like she had been crying. Her words drove him up the wall and he sped up again, revelling in the way she was still moaning quietly as she coaxed his own orgasm out. 

“Fuck,” he sighed against her neck when he felt himself twitch. A moment later he was releasing inside of her, she moaned contentedly and he stifled a loud groan. His warm liquids filled her up and she loved the way she felt with him… all of him… inside of her. She kept her legs hooked around him and his fingers traced shapes on her waist. Their bodies were both sheen with sweat, but neither cared in the slightest.

They were in love, they were together, and that was all that really mattered.