#it’s not gonna be a ballad but I would even swallow down a ballad if it came to it

[gidle]

I watched Soojin's teasers with sound off to avoid spoilers and the one in colour made me think of Bébe Yana, not sure if you're familiar.

In general I can't see her doing anything cheerful, at least not to start her solo career with, I'd love to see a darker and more refined vibe. Hopefully not a ballad, I need her to enter with a BANG and knock everybody off their feet. And I'm pretty sure it's inevitable for everyone to look for Idle sound in her songs, so I also hope that there's very little resemblance (even though a Hann or Hwaa approximation is exactly what would suit her 😅). So what's left? A rock/grunge song maybe? Or synths? Or even jazz? What do you think?

Im not familiar with Bebe yana but I did watch two of her three (?) videos and I get where you’re coming from, though I’m biased from the sound in the teaser and already have an opinion on which style I think the song is going to be but I won’t say it so as not to spoil you. I agree that I also hope for a more refined vibe, and that’s exactly what I think we’re getting.

(PS I don’t think dark forest has anything to do with her title track so it feels safe to watch it with sound of youd like)

Personally I would have loved a pop song like Jini’s cmon or you dayeon’s down down down but I don’t think we’re getting that at all

Aesthetically wise I think it will def be a bit more elegant with some hwaa vibes, in my head Soojin is taking exactly from where she left off. And I know everyone and their mothers is expecting something really sexy but I don’t think we will get what we used to. The company said it’s a more mature debut instead of the “flashy” performances we’re used to. So I feel like it will def be sensual, in a quiet and elegant tone, instead of outright sexy flirty and winks and her deliberately trying to seduce the camera. I think her company will rebrand her with a tamer vibe, which might make knetz a small fraction less angry but only just. Something something society loves hating on the hot confident girl. Women should not be aware of their worth etc and maybe if Soojin’s stage presence was cuter and uwu-er back then the lashout wouldn’t have been so bad. Like I’m deviating from the point but this are just thoughts I’ve been having when I had to stop and think realistically what will Soojin do now that she is back in the industry. I would love a banger that leaves the audience with nose bleeds though.

As for the gidle sound, I’m not expecting it in the same way none of the other girls’ solos have it. Miyeon did not have an idle sound, nor did yuqi or even soyeon. Let alone Soojin in a new company and god knows who is producing it (my deranged ot6 side thinks it’s def Soyeon and now that half my delusions have come to life the sky is the limit and I will be unabashedly insane about everything)

[veintrry]

It's...still you?

wanderer dealing with reality. self-questioning, reflecting, guilt, angst no fluff, envy, emotion-based, hurt/no comfort, character analysis, mention of suicidal thoughts.

not everyone is granted the restful peace of the night

@/65gh0st on twt

It was past midnight, the dark azure sky had swallowed up the stars all at once, leaving not even a single fire to shimmer and shine. Yet, the crescent moon never succumbed to the aching darkness surrounding it.

Here stood a short man with raven hair, staring, almost glaring at the mirror, or more-so, at himself. Both his hands gripped the sides of the sink tightly, as he bit the inside of his cheek, sweat stuck to his face and forehead. He was holding back pants from the dream he had, the first dream he had his entire life.

This was the once almighty Balladeer, feared by all, and was destined for more, more than being just a harbinger, than being just a puppet. Yet, he had fallen so low.

No, such things wouldn't help. He doesn't care for such a title anymore, he's just a wanderer. He doesn't want to be tied to his past and those names. But, he loaths it. Those titles, gave him a purpose, a meaning. They told him where he stood in the food chain, what his value was. Now how would he find that out?

Nahida said one could only define themselves, the same way plants embed life into themselves the moment their seed is planted, they fester alone. But, how? Better question, why even?

What reason did he have to try, what the hell was the purpose of all this, of all this fucking trying to be better. What was he going to get in the end, where was he going to get? He was nothing. Nothing. He was pitiful.

The wanderer swallowed hard, thinking back to all his past memories of everything he had done, everything he experienced, everything he overlooked.

He turned his hand over, gazing, no, analysing, observing, his palm. It was clean, but all he saw was dirty dark red blood, dried and gross, the strong aroma of metal hitting his nose as he lets out a shaky breath. It's so dirty, so filthy. It's filthy. He's filthy. He could feel his sins crawling up his back, threatening to strangle his neck, as they linger at his nape. If they didn't do it he might end up doing it himself.

Then there's silence, in his head. And he looks back at the mirror with a look of astonishment. Whst the hell is he thinking? This had been the first time he had ever thought such a thing and ever protested against it in his mind for his own sake.

God, what good would dying do? Can he even die? What is it exactly keeping him functioning? Thoughts whirled through his mind like some carnival game, but it was more horrific than fun for him.

How am I meant to accept things and move forward, how am I expected to do so. Yes, maybe it works for others, but I'm not others! I'm not even human. I'm not human. What the hell is my being? Sure, I exist, but, I don't live like others do. What am I? What am I. Seen as a human, am a puppet. I'm nothing like a human. I never could be a human, I know this. Such damn simplistic creatures, thinking anyone that looks like them is the same. He lets out an empty laugh, and the room responds, echoing it back to him. It brings him back to reality, glancing around the room before dropping his head down.

Fuck, what am I doing? Is this what I'm gonna do, just have a fucking moment here and lose my mind over it, ha?

Truth is, he never felt that connected to his body. Yes, it belonged to him, and yes, he felt damage done to it or any touch. However it was never like him. It's more like he was a third person to everything. He saw everything that happened, and he knew his reactions and thoughts, but this body wasn't his. Maybe it was because he was a puppet. Do humans ever feel like this? ... Who cares what they feel. We're nothing alike anyways. Right? Yeah.

Silence.

He hesitantly raises his head to stare at the person in the mirror again.

He's destroying himself.

He knows he is, he's ruining himself even more than he knew he could be ruined. But he was born this way, right? Born to be heartless, to kill, to achieve what he must.

A bitter taste seeps into his mouth. And the place where his heart should be stings.

Guilt.

I wonder, what was all that killing for. That murder. All those people that died, the sounds of their cries, the weapon penetrating them. Agents dropped like, well, corpses at the strikes I sent. But they deserved it, they did. But, what about those who were in debt. If you don't want to be killed you shouldn't get yourself to such a low state! ... But, was it right for him?

No, he knew it wasn't. Still, why would he ever had to care or even consider that beforehand? He was going to be a God. He didn't have time to dilly-dally worrying about such things.

If someone knew this. If they knew he was the cause of the deaths for so many, would he be considered human. Ha, he'd have more non-believers than worshippers if he were a god.

Why did you do that? He asks the reflection. Why did you have to do that? He beckons, as the sight becomes blurry.

He knows why. He wishes he didn't that's all. He wishes he could never feel. He wished that he never felt anything once in his life so this all would've been avoided. He wishes he never was born- No. He wishes he were human. Like everyone else. Just, normal. Maybe then, he wouldn't have to bear all this.

His hands messily attempt to get rid of his tears as they pour out, hoping to stop them, but they never do. They keep going. On and on. He chuckles to himself at a thought.

Beur would likely say something stupid. Something like, "Much like life, rivers continue onward for what seems to be eternity. If you try to fight against the flow then you'll only get pushed back and drown deeper down. That's why you have to build a bridge over it, that way you'll come to accept living with it."

He clicks his tongue. He's been spending too much time around that Archon.

How long does it take,

The wanderers reflection alters to his current state, his red cheeks and nose, the shimmer in his eyes and the front of his hairs, stuck to his forehead.

How long does it take to build a bridge?

That's too much work, you know. To build a bridge, ha. Haha.

He tried to endulge in his laughter but it seems he can't deny the reality that this is the only way forward, for regressing will bring him nothing.

He pushes himself up, straightening his back. What a nuisance. He supposes he might as well learn to live a quiet life. He's already been alone for most of his life.

[leafs-lover]

Forever My Dance Partner

A/N: This is a requested Mitch Marner piece. Thanks to @freddieflower3129 for the help :)

Warning: Drinking, Swearing, Smut

Word Count: 4500

“Hey babe you gonna be ready on time?” Mitch asks coming up behind you in the bathroom. You are in the bathroom hair dried and in the process of curling it, yet to even start your makeup.

“Am I a terrible person for not wanting to go?” you whine leaning against his chest setting your curling iron down.

“You hate when people cancel last minute, do you really want to be that person?” he asks his hands finding your hips.

“No” you groan “I just am really tired.”

“Well we can leave early and I don’t have to be at the rink tomorrow so we can sleep in” he smiles at you in the mirror knowing sleep in is your two favourite words.

He places a quick kiss on your cheek and heads over to the shower. You continue with your hair, almost burning a strand while watching him peel his clothes off in the mirror. His back is to you so he doesn’t see your eyes go wide staring at his naked body, and the sound of the water running muffles your moan.  Once he starts to shower you wander off to the closet to pick your outfit, and also to wait until the steam clears from the mirror so you can continue getting ready.

“Ready” you grumble walking into the living room a little bit later. You find Mitch sitting on the couch ankles crossed with his feet resting on the coffee table. He stands up and you take in his appearance black denim clinging to his legs and light blue long sleeve collared shirt covering his torso. You grumble under your breath about how it only took a half hour for him to look that good, while you have been in the bathroom for an agonizing amount of time; though given your lack of energy everything took longer than it should have.

“Wow babe, you look great” he smiles kissing you lightly, causing some lip gloss to spread to his mouth. You bring a thumb up to wipe it away but Mitch leans in pressing his lips back to yours, smearing more across his lips.

He starts peppering quick wet kisses on your mouth and cheek causing you to laugh. “Now we can go” he remarks seeing you smile.

Getting out the door, you walk hand in hand through the halls, down the elevator. Once in the parking garage, his hand finds the small of your back, guiding you to the parking space. The ride to Justin and Audrey’s isn’t too far and is relatively quiet. You stare out the window while Mitch’s hand rests on your thigh.

It’s kind of unusual for you both to be this quiet for this long. Normally when you get in your head Mitch is the first person to pull you out, telling you a random fact or funny story; anything to get you to smile. But tonight it’s different, you can feel him glance in your direction periodically, but he leaves you to your thoughts for most of it.

“Hey Fred” you say walking to the elevator.

“Hey (Y/N)” he replies giving you a soft hug before greeting Mitch. You lean against the wall of the elevator while the two men chat beside you. Fred and Mitch chat the entire way up, his laughter echoing through the small space; but his laugh puts you at ease. Regardless of how you are feeling his laugh is fastest thing that can change your mood.

Once inside and around people you can feel your mood slowly shift. While still feeling tired, seeing your friends and laughing with them helps pull you from your funk.

“Hey you” Mitch says walking in to kitchen to find you. He wraps his arms around you and begins peppering soft playful kisses on your neck. “Woah you smell like beer” you laugh pulling your head back to look at him.

“You smell like beer” he retorts jokingly.

“No I smell like water and iced tea, that way we can get home later” you laugh.

“You’re always one step ahead” he smiles placing a soft kiss on your lips “that’s why I love you.”

You bring your hands to his cheek pulling his lips to yours. Your tongue slips into his mouth and you can taste the beer on his lips. He pushes you a couple steps back until you are pressed against the fridge as his tongue continues to dance with yours. His hands reach around you giving your ass a light squeeze, you giggle into the kiss and roll your hips towards him.

“Hey lovebirds there are other people here” Auston jokes causing you to separate. You feel heat hit your cheeks as you bury your head into Mitch’s chest.

“Yeah and some of them want the beer in the fridge” Willy adds.

With a couple chirps from the boys, the two of you make your way back to the party. You find some of the girls and fall into casual conversation, while Mitch and Freddie get into a heated discussion over some Netflix show. Your eyes find Mitch from across the room a few times, each time he sends you a glance.

Not the kind of glance that makes you want to lock him in a spare bedroom. Every time he smiles, sometimes his eyes linger; but there is no smirk or devilish grin instead you get the feeling he is talking about you.

You feel a hand lightly tap your wrist and you jump slightly; you turn and see Mitch. You had no idea he had left his post on the other side of the room let alone he was behind you.

“Sorry” he chuckles “come dance with me.”

“It’s not exactly a dancing song” you reply hearing Katy Perry being played.

“Trust me” he says lowly in your ear. You set your cup down and follow his lead to the middle of the room.

His hand finds the small of your back and he pulls you in close. You can smell the beer on his breath, the cologne of his body as he grips your one hand. “Mitch we can’t dance like this to Katy Perry” you laugh not even mentioning that nobody else is dancing.

At that moment, half way through the song you hear the tune switch to a piano ballad and Mitch starts to spin you around the living room.

Thought I was good, I was good on my own, I was alright Thought I was grown and the strangers I known, they were alright Thought that I knew everything, never wrong, I was alright Oh, I was good, I was good on my own, I was alright

You can feel all eyes on you but yours are locked on Mitch, his baby blues. He smiles placing a soft kiss into your hairline.

“I love you so much (Y/N)” he says softly in your ear. “You are the greatest thing to ever happen to me.”

You tilt your head to look at him with a large smile “I’d be nowhere if it wasn’t for you.”

“That’s a lie Mitchy” you reply and he shakes his head. He spins you out and pulls you back into his hard chest “you are everything to me.”

Oh, I lived a whole life Thinking I knew how my Heart could handle love A love I thought I knew Everything before us Was stretching out my heart, just So it could be big enough to beat for two

His hand slides lower, resting just above your belt. You can hear the hushes conversations going around you but you can’t focus on anything while Mitch continues to whisper in your ear.

“If I never amount to anything, never win a cup, or get injured and never play again it won’t matter because I would have you. I can’t imagine not talking to you every day, not seeing your pretty face in the morning.”

“Mitch” you say lightly feeling tears hit your eyes but he doesn’t stop, his mouth inches from your ear.

“I see you with Jace and Theo, and I can’t wait until it’s our baby your holding.”

He opens his hand spreading across your back and dips you backwards. His lips find yours and your hand on his bicep slides up to his neck gently gripping it for additional support, though you know Mitch won’t let you fall.

Never understood why People always say, love chooses you Now I do Now I do Didn't ever think that I could ever say I promise you

“(Y/N) he says bringing you back up to your feet. “I love you so much and I never thought I could be this happy. I want you to be my forever dance partner (Y/N).” His hands pull away from you and he fumbles in his pocket before dropping to his knee.

“Oh my god” you whisper bringing your hands up to your face in shock. The tears once sitting on your pupils are slowly rolling down your cheeks as he opens the small jewelry box.

Your eyes are glued to his, if they weren’t you would have seen him drop the box earning some chuckles from other guests.

And now I do Now I do Now I do

“(Y/N)” he grips your hand “will you marry me?”

“Yes! Of course” you yell almost before he even gets the question out. His hand is shaking as he slides the band on your finger. As soon as he is standing your arms wrap around his neck, your hands tangle in his hair and your mouth finds his.

This is the road, we can see where it goes together You are my home and I know I can stay forever

His hands are on your back holding you against his chest while your tongues dance in each other’s mouths. Your moans are swallowed by him, and for a second you forget everyone else is there. You don’t hear them clapping or cheering, you don’t hear their excitement your attention fixated solely on Mitch.

He is the first to pull away, his lips swollen and covered in your gloss. You’re about to lean in for more when you finally hear some voices around you and remember you are not alone. Instead you place one soft but tender kiss on his lips and place your head on his chest.

The next half hour is met with everyone congratulating you, hugs and the girls telling you they have the entire thing on video. You hear Mitch get chirped for dropping the ring. He says he thought he had pushed his nerves aside (being an athlete he learned to push away emotions during intense situations) until he actually got down on one knee. Once he actually got down on his knee, all the nerves and anxiety about you saying no came crashing over him, even though he knew the answer would be yes.

It’s something that the two of you had discussed. There was no way you would ever say no and he knew that; but in that moment it felt like a possibility to him. Finally you feel some of the excitement dissipate as everyone begins to separate into little groups around the room.

Mitch leaves for the bathroom and you wait a couple minutes before heading down the hall. He opens the door but before he steps out you shove him back inside.

“What are you doing?” he laughs as you lock the door behind yourself.

Your hands find his belt and begin to undo it, a dark grin spreading across your face.

“(Y/N/N)” he chokes out as you pop the button and slide his pants and boxers down his thighs a few inches. Your mouth finds his and you palm over him a couple times, feeling him begin to harden under your touch. Your mouth finds his neck and you start to suck on it before he pushes you off.

“Not there” he hisses knowing that your mouth is higher than the collar of a dress shirt, and he doesn’t want any hickeys to be visible in photos. You smile and fall to your knees; you feel the cool tile through the denim on your knees.

You tug on him a couple times, rubbing your thumb over the precum that has spilt out. You glance up at him through your lashes before finally moving your mouth, wrapping it around his hard cock as he hisses in response.

You hear him mumbling as you bob on him a few times, coating him in your saliva. Your tongue slides up the vein on his shaft and you see his eyes roll back at the feeling. Your cheeks hollow as one hand grips him taking what your mouth can’t fit.

Your hand and mouth work in tandem, as his hands tangle into your hair. He pulls your curls away from your face, gripping them in a loose pony at the back of your head. Your other hand reaches around and grips his ass, you use it to guide his hips forward slightly knowing Mitch won’t push more than your limits.

You continue to work on him, swirling your tongue around him when you feel his hands tighten in your hair. His hips involuntarily buck forward causing you to gag slightly and you know he is getting close. His soft moans are becoming sporadic, and your eyes lock on his.

The sight of you on your knees, beady eyes peering back to him has him quickly approaching his thigh. His moans are loud, but the music and laughter from the party are louder. “(Y/N) I’m gonna cum” he whispers.

You gently cup his balls and give them a light squeeze. You hear him groan above you as his hips twitch. Curse words are spilling from his lips as his hands tighten around your hair.

“(Y/N/N) I’m gonna cum” he warns.

A few seconds later and you hear him grunt as his dick twitches. Warm ribbons spill down your throat as you continue to suck him dry. Pulling your mouth off a little dribbles down your chin, Mitch holds a hand out which you graciously accept rising to your feet. You bring the back of your hand up and wipe away the cum dripping down your chin.

“Babe” he mumbles pulling you into his chest, his mouth pressing into your hair. “You rarely finish in your mouth, and you never swallow.”

“I do on special occasions” you tilt your head up to him. He brings his lips closer ghosting over yours “a proposal seems like a special occasion.”

“I don’t deserve you” he smiles pulling you in by the small of your back to kiss your lips.

“Why because I swallow sometimes?” you joke kissing him again.

He just shakes his head in response sliding his hand down inside your jeans. His large hand cups your cheek giving your ass a light squeeze while his lips press back to yours. His calloused index finger slips under your underwear and you giggle pulling away.

“We should go home” you smirk. He adjusts his pants while you fix some of your smudged makeup. He unlocks the door and tugs at your wrist pulling you down the hall. Once in the living room you hear some chirping from the players, while their partners murmur for them to be quiet.

Your cheeks immediately go red as your curls fall in front of your face, shielding you from their glares. You hear Mitch give a couple chirps back and your eyes find Audrey who smirks at you from the corner. Once your boots are on you quickly grip Mitch’s hand and pull him out the door and away from the laughter of his teammates.

Once in the elevator you are like two teenagers, immediately finding the others mouths. Moans and giggles fill the elevator, your hands wandering up his back as he pins you against the wall. If the ride was any longer you are sure he would have tried to pull your clothes off, but you hear the ding and it pulls you two apart.

As the sober one you are the one to drive home. The car ride home feels painfully long, you hit every red light. Mitch has a hand placed high on your thigh periodically giving you a firm squeeze.

“Babe” you whine at a red light “I’m driving.”

He turns in his seat to face you “I can’t keep my hands off you, fiancé” he smirks.

“Fiancé, I like that” you reply his words warming your heart. He leans forward in his seat and places a soft kiss on your cheek before sucking on your ear lobe. You groan slightly and push him off of you as you accelerate through the intersection. He falls back into his seat but keeps his hand firmly attached to your leg.

Once in the garage you quickly pull into your spot, leaving the car diagonal not caring to fix it. You hear Mitch joking when he gets out checking your parking garage, but you are well on the way to the elevator. The ride up is long; another couple stepped on with you. You’re wrapped tightly around Mitch and as soon as the door opens on your floor you pull him out dragging him down the hall.

His hands are wrapped on your hips as he pushes you forward; his lips trailing on your neck. Your mind is clouded with lust as you approach your door fumbling to get the door unlocked. Mitch chuckles against your neck grabbing the keys to open the door for you.

Once inside you both kick your shoes off against the wall and your mouths quickly reattach. Your kiss is hungry and passionate, as he guides you down the hall to your bedroom. Your hands are firmly gripped in his hair, only pulling apart to remove clothing.

Once in your bedroom you are both left in just jeans, a trail of discarded clothing left in your wake. You quickly undo is belt and pants, pressing them down his large thighs.

“Fuck baby” he groans as you palm over his boxers “it’s your turn.”

He pushes you back onto the bed, air leaving your lungs as you hit the mattress. He crawls over you with blown pupils while his mouth attaches to your neck. He sucks and nips your skin while his hand gently grazes over your stomach. His touch is soft and slow, feather like sending a shiver down your spine.

Finally his calloused fingers find your denim releasing the button. He pulls your pants and underwear down your legs bringing two fingers up to your dripping folds. His mouth finds a breast gently sucking on your swollen orb while your entire body arches up to meet him.

His two fingers press your folds open, and gently flick your clit a few times. His fingers dance around your entrance, playfully pulling your lips apart. Every time you think he is going to slide his fingers in they pull away, causing you to groan from under him.

His lips curl against the skin of your breast as he sucks on your nipple before finally sliding in. Your hips rise and head falls into the pillow feeling his long fingers press into your folds. He begins to pump his fingers in and out of you as his mouth switches to find your other breast.

Your hands quickly find his hair tangling in as his fingers curl inside you. He hits your sweet spot with every thrust, having long been familiar with your body. His teeth graze over your nipple and your entire body squirms under his touch as you feel your high quickly approach.

Your moans are deeper, heavier as your hands grasp at his dark roots. You feel him smirk as his mouth finds the valley of your breasts. His thick fingers pump in and out at a rapid pace and your heels dig into the bed as your vision goes white.

Mitch groans feeling you clench around his fingers. Warm white liquid spills out around him and he keeps pumping working you through it. You release your grasp on his hair and he pops his head up with a devilish grin “that was fast” he growls in your ear.

His voice is low and husky, echoing through the room. Before you can respond you feel his swollen tip poking at your entrance. He strokes it over your folds a few times coating it in your slick.

You grasp his cheeks pulling his lips down to yours as he pushes into your heat. He groans as you welcome him in, a leg wrapping around his hip. He brings a hand down to grip the underside of your thigh, holding it in place.

“Fuck you feel so good (Y/N)” he moans beginning to rock in and out of you, swallowing your moans with his kiss. He starts off slow allowing you time to adjust to his size. While he is relatively normal in length, he is thick.

Super thick.

The first time you say him you didn’t think you would be able to take him in. Your jaw fell to the floor but Mitch assured you he would take it slow. And he did, but a part of you thinks that was also for him. He said you were extremely tight, and if he had of gone much faster you think he would have finished in under a minute.

Now it’s years later, every time you see it you feel your breath catch in your throat but you are used to it and him to you. He knows to give you a few slow thrusts before picking up his pace. He says he can see it written on your face once you are ready.

“Mitch” you pant breathlessly pulling your mouth away. Your hands find his back digging your nails into his big muscles.

Dark eyes stare down at you, a string of curse words leaving his mouth. He squeezes your thigh as you roll your hips into him his pace picking up. You bring your lower lip between your teeth as your eyes roll into the back of your head.

You feel Mitch’s head duck down biting on your neck. Your moans get louder as your high gets closer.

“Babe I’m close” you groan and he smirks against your neck. His hand slips from your thigh to your clit and he begins pressing into it. Each thrust is harder and faster than the last. You claw desperately at his back while deep circles are pressed into your sensitive bud.

His mouth finds the sweet spot below your ear, sucking and biting at it until you’re falling apart under him. Your back arches and you clench around him, pulling him in to your warm heat.

“Fuck (Y/N/N)” he groans above you as you clench around him. Your nails leave deep crescents in his shoulder while your heel digs into his back. He fucks you through your high, as your vision goes dark. You hear him mumbling into your neck but can’t focus until your entire body relaxes.

He continues to piston in and out of you his hips snapping as he chases his own high. You feel him peppering kisses on your jaw as you whimper, your cunt becoming very sensitive in need of a break. You feel tears prick the edge of your eyes as your whines become louder.

“Mitchy” you moan.

“I know babe” he groans. He picks up his pace. He pushes off your body changing the angle hitting you slightly deeper as he starts to become sloppy above you.

“Mitch” you whine tears rolling down your cheeks. He groans and you feel his dick twitch as he spills inside you, warm cum flooding your walls. A few final thrusts and his body collapses on you.

You lie there silently, the only sound is your sporadic breathing. Slowly Mitch pulls out and you whimper at the emptiness causing Mitch to grin.

“You okay?” he asks wiping away the stray tear that has fallen. “You were superfast tonight.”

“Never had a problem with me being fast before” you joke and he laughs flipping his wet hair back from his face.

“I don’t have a problem with it” he smirks “it’s just unusual for you.”

“The excitement of tonight got to me” you smile pulling him in for a soft kiss.

He moans slightly and pulls away falling beside you onto his back. “So what about the end of July?” he asks.

“For what” you ask turning to look at him.

“Our wedding” he laughs.

“Oh” you say lightly.

“Second guessing?” he smirks at you.

“No I was just thinking we could do it next summer” you reply.

“You know July is over eight months away, I think we can plan it before then” he smiles. “I don’t want to wait a year and a half to make you my wife.” He rolls onto his side, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

You smile at his words “I know but” you trail off turning your head to look into his blue eyes that soft and genuine, etched with concern.

“But what babe?” he asks bringing a hand to your chin, gently rubbing it along your jaw.

“In eight months I won’t fit in my dress” you say.

Confusion washes over his face, his eyes shifting over you. You allow him time to process what you said when his eyes go wide and a large smile crosses his face.

“Baby are we having a baby?” he asks bringing his hand from your jaw to your stomach.

Tears prick your eyes and you nod quickly. His lips are instantly on yours, while he strokes over your stomach.

“When did you find out?” he asks crawling down to rest his head on your stomach.

Your hands find his hair, gently playing with his strands “when you were at practice, I was going to tell you tomorrow on your day off.”

You aren’t even sure if he heard you because he immediately starts kissing and whispering to your stomach. His hand is gently stroking over your stomach when his head snaps up to look at you.

“I’m such a dick for making you go to the party” he smiles.

“You didn’t know” you laugh running your hand through his hair. “Besides I had a very good time.”

He curls up beside you keeping his large hand glued to your stomach. His legs wrap over yours essentially becoming your blanket.

“So have you seen a doctor? They have you on any vitamins, or is there any special foods I should be buying to help this peanut grow?”

You laugh turning your head to look at him “I found out about 7 hours ago, I have not talked with a doctor yet.

“I’m just so excited” he smiles.

“I’m gonna be a daddy” he whispers eyes glazed over.

“Yeah” you smile up lazily tracing his tattooed arm “you’re going to be a daddy.”

[martsonmars]

Because food fics are your jam (heh heh), I’m gonna say a snowball remake of Eat/Pray/Love

You know I had no idea what Eat/Pray/Love was before getting this ask, and I know you meant Snowbaz and not snowball. BUT it is something I'd very much write, so have a taste (wink wink) of it under the cut. (Or read on AO3.)

Crashing Waves (M)

This is not what I had in mind when I planned my trip around the world to find myself again, but I can't say I'm complaining.

Because I've got a cock shoved down my throat, fingers still sticky from the decadent fried pizza Baz made me try for lunch, and I'm forgetting all about sacred cows and temples and bald men in orange tunics. (I'm mixing some things up, aren't I?)

It turns out I don't need to visit India to explore my way through spirituality and nirvana. (Did I get it right this time?) I don't even need to get to Rome and kneel in the middle of Piazza San Pietro under the giant screen showing the Pope's ramblings, or wander into the first local church I find—there is one behind every corner, it wouldn't be a difficult quest—and ask the priest to show me the light.

Because here, kneeling on the floor of a little house a hundred metres from the sea, my stomach so full of pastiera and babà that I'm not sure I can let Baz come in my mouth and then swallow, I feel closer than ever to finding my religion.

If I died here, with the fingers of an Italian man gripping my curls to push my nose deeper against the thick hair at the base of his cock, and the promise of more Neapolitan cuisine for dinner, and more sex after that, I'd be pretty confident about my chances of heading straight to Heaven—or at least to a version of Heaven where I can be held by strong, tanned biceps, and twist my pointer around wavy, raven hair, and lose myself in the grey ocean of smiling eyes as I twirl my fork in a plate of spaghetti alle vongole and make a mess of myself because I'm too busy comparing the shades of his irises to the actual sea lapping below this terrace.

I'm not even sure how I ended up here—how a god descending from whatever the Latin version of Mount Olympus was could look at me, a sad, pale boy from the land of endless rain, and decide I was worth his time, and his cooking, and sucking his cock.

But I guess this was the goal—leave England, leave my empty flat where even the sound of my laughter at stupid TikToks felt pathetic, and travel to Italy, and India, and Indonesia (I may have planned my trip Googling foreign countries in alphabetical order) to find food, religion, love, and maybe something in between.

As it appears, I didn't have to go past my first stop. I know it when Baz tugs at my hair to warn me and I let him come in my mouth. I know when he allows me to drag him to the floor, next to me, and he opens his lips to my kiss, and licks the inside of my cheeks to swallow his own come. (I am really too full to do it, though even his spunk tastes like summer, and new beginnings, and the salt on one's skin after an afternoon in the sea.)

I know it when he takes my hand, and takes me to his bed, and undresses me as if I were a painting and he was uncovering every detail with his artist's eye. I know it when he traces the planes of my face with his calloused fingers, and whispers to me words I don't understand, but feel like a promise of love pressed on every inch of my skin.

I know it when he takes me in his hand, and I feel like poetry unraveling in flower gardens. I know it when he laughs, and the sound of it buries itself into my flesh along with the sound of the waves, of busy restaurants smelling of fish and sea, of hurried steps on cobblestone, of violinists playing love ballads at the corners of narrow alleys.

I know it when he guides my fingers to his back, when he nods as I move on the sheets to taste his arse with my tongue, when he looks at me like I could fit in a museum but he wouldn't like it because it would mean I wouldn't be a secret just for his eyes.

I know it when we lie next to each other, and he tells me stories of mermaids, and red horn-shaped pendants against bad luck, and witches living on volcanoes, and puppets, and dances whose names sound like dangerous spiders.

I know it when he looks at me, and he tells me Faresti riscoprire il senso della bellezza anche al più disilluso, and for the first time in a lifetime, seagulls gliding out of the window, I can breathe.

[talkfastromance4]

Are lily ,posy and Oliver helpings daddy deal with the stress of the album coming out in two days?

How about momma? Maybe a bj to help him relax?

I love this ask so so so much because you made it into the Luke&Lily universe 🥺 and the last part is *chefs kiss* I hope you like it!💕

***

With the album only two days away, Luke wanted to have one last listening party with everyone over at the house. You were more than ecstatic to abide that because he's been nervous ever since he announced a solo album release.

The two of you spent many late nights discussing it, more of you encouraging him to write his heart out. Ashton helped as much as he could as hype man as well considering he released an album almost a year ago now.

You were all gathered around the fire pit outside letting Luke's ethereal voice serenade you into the summer evening. Lily and Posy loved to dance to his songs, they twirled and did their own version of a ballerina's pirouette.

You were sat on Luke's lap watching the girls dance and everyone else's reaction to his heart coming through. Ashton had his head pointed to the stars alternating his eyes from open to close humming along to the choruses. Calum sat forward with his elbows on his knees staring into the fire, Luke's words resonating with him on a deeper level.

Crystal held Oliver in her arms, a soft smile on her face as she rocked with the ballads. Michael had his arm around her, staring at Oliver with a look of concentration and admiration.

"This is what I had trouble with at this next bit," Luke murmurs in your ear. His arms tighten around your waist, his lips move against your shoulder when he speaks.

You listen intently but in your ears, it's all perfect and beautiful. You know this album backwards and forwards. When the kids were asleep you'd listen to all of his alternate ideas. It made you warm inside that he wanted to share this with you, this project that was just Luke; soft, tender, real.

Halfway through, Lily climbed onto Calum's lap and listened quietly with the rest of them. Posy snuggled with Ashton, she played with his bracelets on his wrists humming along to her daddy's voice.

When the album ended there was a moment of silence. Luke squeezed you again, his breath hitching and then everyone clapped.

"It's sensational, mate, well done," Ashton shakes his head.

"Yeah, it's perfect," Calum agrees.

"Thanks," Luke sighs keeping cover behind your shoulder. "I've been feeling like I'm going to throw up all week."

"Everyone's going to love it, Luke," Michael adds.

"That's what I've been telling him," you smile at him proudly. You brush back a curl from his face. "It's beautiful, babe, truly."

It wasn't very long until Posy and Oliver became fussy. Posy was clinging to Luke and Oliver's cries were of the sleepy kind. With hugs and kisses and more words of encouragement, they all left.

You could see the stress in Luke's shoulders as the two of you did the nightly routine with all three kids.

"Does this mean you'll be leaving sooner?" Lily asks him as he brushes her hair.

"Leaving? Where am I going, sweets?"

"With Uncle Cal, on tour," she's playing with the ears of her pink bunny. The pink bunny Luke gave her when he first met her.

"Oh. No, I won't be leaving. This record is more like...it's like a diary," Luke explains. "It helps me sort out my thoughts and feelings and music helps as well."

"I want a diary."

"I'll get you one," he smiles setting her brush down and kisses the top of her head. "Into bed, my sweet."

Oliver is in your arms and Posy is hanging onto your fingers as you enter Lily's room. Luke tucks her in kissing her forehead.

"Sweet dreams sweet Lily," he murmurs. "I love you."

"Love you dada," she smiles.

Posy hugs Lily goodnight and Luke scoops her up in his arms, her head falls heavily on his shoulder.

"Your turn for bed, love bug," Luke tells her and you follow them into her room.

Posy sets her in her toddler bed, making sure her purple elephant is right next to her. You're patting at Oliver's butt when he makes a noise listening in to the short story Luke is telling Posy. This one was about a fairy Princess named Posy who loved to dance and dream.

"Sometimes, she would sleep on a star," Luke's voice is hushed, his hand stroking over the top of her head. "And it would take her high in the sky so close to the moon. The moon watched over the fairy Princess Posy until the sun came and woke her up with a warm kiss."

"I think she's out," you whisper. Luke kisses her cheek then you give him Oliver to hold.

"Goodnight my Posy girl," you whisper and kiss her forehead.

You leave her door open a crack then move into Oliver's nursery. He's already been asleep for a while so Luke sets him in his crib gently. You let him talk to his son for a moment and hold out your hand when he turns around. Luke takes your hand warmly in his bringing it to his mouth for a kiss.

"I love you," he whispers, baby blues steady on yours.

"I love you."

You thought you'd be getting ready for bed and fall asleep together but Luke mentioned he left something outside. You shrug it off and did your own nightly routine waiting for him to return.

Thirty minutes went by and Luke still wasn't in bed with you. You make sure to grab the baby monitor before you go to find him. Sure enough, he's downstairs in his music room, the sounds of his album luring you closer and closer.

Luke's sitting on the couch, his arms spread along the back of it with his head against the wall. His foot is bouncing with the beat and he's singing along quietly to himself.

You can feel his nerves from the doorway and an idea sparks in your mind. You close the door behind you in case the girls wake up but they're out like lights so you're pretty sure they won't come in here. Oliver's monitor is placed on a pile of records and you move in front of Luke on the floor. You touch his knee delicately.

"Hey," he mumbles, his head still pointed towards the ceiling.

"What're you doing down here all by yourself?" you ask touching his other knee. You're silently rubbing up his legs in a soothing way.

"Thinking. I can't believe this is gonna be heard in two days," he rubs his face with his hand.

"You know what I think?" you ask stretching up over his legs, your palms sliding up his thighs to the center of his crotch. You stroke your thumb over his clothed dick in a teasing manner and that gets his attention. His head perks up.

"I'd love to know what you think, lovie," he exhales watching you.

With your eyes on his, you rub over his growing bulge until you think it becomes a bit uncomfortable.

"I think," you undo his pants and tug them down, down, down to his ankles. He helps kicking them off. You're still rubbing at his hips, and you press butterfly kisses to his thighs, up, up, up. "I think you need to relax."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm," you nod grabbing his fully hard dick in your palm. You stroke him slightly and you nip at his love handle loving the way his stomach clenches. "And I think I can help."

"I think you can, too," he smiles.

You turn your head to kiss his hip, then leave open mouthed kisses up his shaft until you're at the tip. You bat your eyes at him as you close your lips around his head, swirling your tongue over him. Your hand moves down with your mouth as you swallow him as far as you can.

"Oh, baby," he moans. His hand flies to your hair, not adding pressure but just to hold you. You hum at his moan as you lift your mouth off him only to go back down again.

Your mouth and hand work in tandem until he's slick with your spit then you fondle his balls with your fingers.

"Fuck, lovie, just like that. Mm," he moans again lifting his hips to meet your mouth.

"Like that?" you ask and he gasps at the vibration of your words. "You're so good, baby. Everyone's going to love your album."

"Don't talk about the album now," he nearly whines, "just keep--ah doing what you're doing."

You smile and bob your head back down, gagging slightly when his hips meet your throat. Luke's thighs clench beneath your fingers and you know he's close so you start to move faster.

"Lovie, lovie, lovie, lovie," he pulls you off him and onto his lap.

"I wasn't done," you protest.

"I want you."

A shared desire is exchanged in both your eyes and you both work quickly to remove your shorts and underwear. Luke guides himself inside of you and you slip over him easily.

"Look at me, lovie," he whispers.

When you do, he takes hold of your hips and thrusts heavily into you, you gasp loudly.

"Shh, shh, c'mere," he silences your gasps with his own mouth.

You rock your hips with him enthusiastically, feeling the pleasure rise up your neck and down to your toes. You're a mess of heated breath and pants, movements becoming jerky.

"Come with me, lovie...let me feel you," he murmurs. With a final snap of his hips, you cry out against his lips and he lets out a loud groan as he fills you up with warmth.

"Luke," you sigh resting your body heavily against him. When you say his name he smiles against you because what you really said was 'I love you.'

"I love you, too, Y/N. Thank you for being my everything."

"You're my everything," you frame his cheeks in your hands. "I'm so proud of you."

**

Taglist: @calumance  @in-superbloom @calpalirwin @karajaynetoday @wiiildflowerrr @sunshineeeluke @littledrummeraussie @suchalonelysunflower @hoodhoran @Fobodob @thew0rldneedsmcreycghurt @sunshineeashton @ashtonsunflower​ @mymindwide​ @itjustkindahappenedreally @seanna313 @fivesecondsofonedirection @mulletcal @pandaxnienke @prentisswrites @princesslrh

[romeoandjulietyouwish]

hii, how about allura for the ask game?

(also it is so wild to Explain the eurovision to an outsider POV njdsdf i do recommend checking out some of the performances as there are some good songs occasionally, and oh i definitely also thought that singer had vax vibes)

(dude eurovision is wild, I looked up some of performances and some of them are fucking crazyyyy and now I see why everyone hates the ballads they're so boringggg)

Dragons haunt Allura's dreams. They have for years. But this time they're real. She stands in the remains of her towers, kicking aside bricks and dust, hoping to find any of her possessions remaining. In her arms there's a small stack of mostly undamaged books, covered with dust.

"Allie." She looks over and sees Kima standing in the street, looking at her with sorrow. Allura ducks her head, turning away from her girlfriend so she can't see the tears that well in her eyes.

She hears the sound of feet on stones and then Kima's hand slips into hers. Allura swallows thickly, "This tower has been my home for years. And how it...it's gone." She sinks to her knees in the rubble, tears falling. Kima holds her, pulling her into a hug, Allura's head on her shoulder.

"I know," Kima says softly. "But we can rebuild it. We can make it an even better home with a bigger library."

Allura laughs a little and then sobers up saying, "All my books were destroyed."

"No they weren't." Kima pulls back and crouches down to pick up the four books Allura had been holding, dusting off one of the covers. "Look, you got four right here, more than enough to start a library." Allura laughs, wiping her cheeks. "And," Kima leans down and kisses Allura's cheek, "I have no issues with spending literally all my money buying you books."

"What would I do without you?" Allura laughs with a teary smile.

Kima shrugs, "You're never gonna have to find out. Come on, let's see how many more of these bad boys we can find in here." Kima helps Allura to her feet, tucking the books under one arm as she does.

Together, the two of them look through the rubble, adding a few more books to the stack, Kima taking care to remember the titles of the ones too far destroyed to be saved. And then Allura catches something in the glint of the sun.

She goes towards it, crouching down to pick it up. She smiles when she finds what it is, a medallion bearing the symbol of Bahamut. Running her thumb over the surface to clear it of dust, she rises, looking at it with a soft smile.

"What's that, Allie?" Kima asks softly, striding over to her.

Allura holds it lower to show Kima, "The medallion you gave me before you left."

Kima's smile matches Allura's, looking up at her with a smile, "You really kept it all this time?"

"Of course." Allura tucks the chain over her head, the pendant falling against her chest with a comfortable weight. "You said it would keep me safe and then you kissed me and I didn't see you for a long time."

Kima squeezes her hand, smirking, "You have to admit, it was a bold move on my part."

Allura chuckles, "It was. And you did get me to fall for you in the end." She leans down and kisses Kima softly.

When they pull apart, Kima caresses her cheek with a smile. "Come on, Gil is waiting for us, said he'd cook dinner."

Allura grins, "Well isn't that a treat. Here, I can carry the books." She reaches for the small stack in Kima's arms, but the halfling turns away so she can't grab them.

"No, I've got them, you wizards are so frail. You'd topple over if I let you carry them." Allura rolls her eyes, resting her hand on Kima's shoulder instead, knowing there's no way to fight her on this.

But she does lean down to kiss Kima's cheek as they walk out of the rubble, one hand stringing the medallion along it's chain.

[littlefreya]

Stalker Walker - Part 5

Summary: A voyage to Paris in order to escape your mundane life leaves you with more than you bargained for.

[Previously on Stalker Walker]  

Pairing: August Walker x Reader

Words:  1k

Warning: He’s cute and all but a stalker, mentions of sexual thoughts, mention of age gap. 

A/N: No Beta!!! He is back, and on this episode of Stalker Walker™, our dear reader has finally met with August... now I wonder, what will happen next. 

Title: Last night in Paris

It was as if the street fell utterly silent all of a sudden, save for the soft drumming of raindrops upon the thick fabric and your trembling breath no sound met your ears. The little shelter beneath his large umbrella felt like a secluded little realm and there you were, drowning on solid land, sunken into the abyss of the most stunning eyes you’ve ever seen. 

Like the heart of a cold ocean kissed by the storm, passion and hunger swam within the tall man’s gaze, deeming him even more attractive. 

Absentmindedly, you gaped, unable to determine if this was a movie, an extremely lucid dream or real life. 

He was your stranger from earlier, the elegant, well-suited man who sat alone at the cafe’, how odd it was that by chance you’d meet again? Now further hulking, he stood so close that you could taste the same brew of Columbian coffee off his breath and the mist of his stark, musky cologne engulfed from each direction like some intoxicating enchantment.

It took a while before you could find words and the hint of a smile that began to spread on his surprisingly succulent lips didn’t help your lack of coherence.

“I’ve seen you,” you finally managed and immediately wanted to throw yourself into the canal. 

Certainly, he would now think that you were some sort of a creepy stalker.

The stranger-now-turned saviour, tilted his head at you in a query while a small spark ignited his aquatic glance.  

“At the Cafe’, earlier this morning…” you explained, trying to maintain a stable tone as your voice was about to give in to the same tremor in your knees. 

The man observed your face silently, his tongue flicking over his bottom lip as he drank the sight of you in. He had to admit that you were far more fascinating in the flesh; your beauty a thing of ballads sung by knights and love poems, your scent - delicate and feral at the same time like a wild rose that grew timidly in a dark cave. 

He couldn’t wait to pluck your soft petal and drink your sweet nectar. 

“Shame,” he spoke, his baritone a smooth, low chant, “I would have offered you to join me for breakfast,” he paused and then clicked his tongue, his smile further widening, exposing two large dimples and two sharp fangs, “had you agreed to it, of course.”

In your cheeks, you felt the lick of flames. Eyes dropping to the damp cobblestone, you chuckled softly and then tucked an errant curl behind your ear. You’ve just met him 5 minutes ago and didn’t even know his name, but you were willing to leave with your bewhiskered stranger to wherever he fancied if only he’d suggest.

But this wasn’t you, you weren’t the coy, giggly girl falling for every tall handsome man with a void of a dark angel. You were the same independent woman who travelled on her own for the first time, visiting a completely new land. Yet his glare somehow held you captive in a chamber of glass which you couldn’t escape from, nor did you ever wanted. 

Unable to find the correct answer to his theoretical question, you simply shrugged and crooked an eyebrow, trying to suggest you wouldn’t have minded having breakfast, lunch, dinner and then another breakfast in bed with him the morning after. 

Moving his arm in the most elegant manner, he reached for your palm and took it in his grasp. The drum of your heart never beat louder as he leaned in to kiss the back of your hand, pressing his soft lips against your supple skin. The rough edges of his moustache scratched your hand and you had to swallow that giggle that threatened to escape your throat. 

“August,” he introduced, remaining a tad bent and only keeping his glare fixed upon yours. Smitten by his direct charm and suave charisma, you wondered about his age. He couldn’t have been older than mid-30, much older than you, no doubt, yet his manners and gestures were that of a man who was slightly old fashioned, one that treats a woman like a lady.

You scratched the back of your head awkwardly which he took as a signal to let go of your hand and stretched back to his full height.  

“August,” you repeated his name, enjoying the way it rolled on your tongue, “I am so lucky to have run into you, and have you save me from the rain. I brought an umbrella with me today but misplaced it somewhere...”

Possibly at the cafe, when you were too lost in your own gawking and fancies, though you’d be lying if you didn’t admit to yourself that you were thrilled to have lost your umbrella. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have the chance to run into August on a rainy autumn day. Perhaps it was your destiny that on the last night in Paris, you were to meet a man that made you want to do something completely outrageous. 

It was time after all…

The anticipation grew in your eyes as you stood waiting, unaware of how your body swung from side to side. If only you knew what an open book you were to a man like him, there was no need to swipe your credit card and trace your information, he picked up every twitch and flutter of your lashes, noticing how you fell into your own musings, as you did when you were alone. He wanted to browse through your pages and read each passage and syllables of your naked body, as he will have you in your own hotel bed tonight. 

Inhaling calmly, he reached for your hand again, and placed the hook of the umbrella in your grip, “you are welcome to have mine till the end of your trip, sweetheart. I’m not afraid of getting wet.”

At the arch of his brow and the drawl in his voice, you flushed, but then your heart sunk like a broken ship. The end of your trip was closer than he knew and home was nothing but a mundane little fortress of solitude, this was by far the most exciting thing that ever happened to you since forever and the fact that you’ve met him at the last night of the trip felt as if you’ve wandered from a pleasant little garden of roses into a bush full of thorns. 

Giving him a disappointed glance, you pushed the umbrella back toward him, “there is no need, that’s gonna be tomorrow morning.”

August’s brow lifted with surprise and the same disappointing tainted his eyes that now looked as soft as the eyes of a puppy. “Pity,” he pouted but then offered you another one of his endearing smiles, “perhaps then, you can hold it for me till the end of the night.” 

His hand pushed yours away gently, and he pulled back, stepping into the rain and letting the drizzle dampen his trench coat and slick hair. 

“Have a drink with me tonight.” It didn’t sound like a question nor like a suggestion but more of a fact as he took another step away from you, his hair gradually becoming tussled by the soft wind and droplets of rain. “You are staying close to the cafe’ where we met, I presume.”

“Yes,” you retorted, squeezing your fingers around the rigid metal handle, “at the Pantheon.”

Tucking his hands down the pockets of his jacket, he continued to pace away, walking backwards as if he didn’t want to say goodbye.

“I’ll see you downstairs at 8, my little rose, don’t forget my umbrella, because then I’ll have to hunt you down” he announced with a playful smirk and then turned on his feet and walked away. 

Watching him leave, you finally allowed your self to exhale loudly. A broad smile stretched your cheeks to the point of pain, and you couldn’t help but chuckle at the turn of events. Even if you were to never see him again after tonight, it would still be the sweetest memory, and maybe a part of you was somewhat afraid of the commitment that could follow anyway.

You began pacing away, staring into nothing with music playing in your mind when you suddenly found it odd that he never bothered asking for your name.

*Disclaimer: I don’t own August Walker or any of the Mission Impossible franchise characters*

*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it, my ideas or parts of the source material and claiming it as your own*

[lochsides]

You Signed Up For This Review

If you're following me, you really did sign up for this review. I love that the title of this album lends itself to so many puns. Maybe that was the second indication that I would adore this album (the first being that its a Maisie Peters album). God, where do I even begin to review the pop mastery that is YSUFT? The album is both cohesive and chaotic in the best way possible. Maisie is one of those songwriters who approaches writing with quick wit and personality. That’s my biggest takeaway from this album. YSUFT has so much personality. It is very authentic while being refreshing. I’m so glad it finally here, to be consumed in all its glory. She really hit it out of the park and it was well worth the wait. There is not a single skip.

For those of you interested, below the cut you will find a review for each song. My favourites are 'I'm Trying (Not Friends)', ‘Love Him, I Don’t’, ‘Hollow’, ‘Villain’, ‘Brooklyn’, ‘Elvis Song’ and ‘Volcano’ — yes I know that’s half the album. This is my review and I make the rules. I've also included a little ranking at the very end.

You Signed Up For This — This song has so much main character energy. My favourite thing about Maisie as a songwriter is that her songwriting has a sense of humour to it. This song says so much in 3 minutes and 15 seconds. Its the perfect album opener, particularly for a debut album, but it's also a really good introduction to Maisie Peters for new listeners and old fans alike.

I'm Trying (Not Friends) — I can't decide what my favourite part of this song is: her sharp, witty songwriting or the cadence. This is what I mean when I say that the album is authentic while being refreshing. The cadence is unlike anything I’ve heard before, especially from Maisie, but the passive- aggressive lyrics are so Maisie. She has always had this unvarnished honesty to her songwriting that I really appreciate about her.

John Hughes Movie — Pop perfection! That's it, that's the review. I love the message of this song. It has a sense of self-worth and confidence despite being let down. And when I tell you I adore the fuck out of the bridge of 'JHM', it's an understatement. It was actually the perfect lead single for an album with so much main character energy.

Outdoor Pool — 'Outdoor Pool' is basically Fifteen (Maisie’s Version), when all you wanted was to be wanted. She really captured that in this song. I felt so sad listening to it because 15 really is such a delicate age. The music and production felt very cinematic to me and that really brought to life this story that she was telling. It really is almost Skins. I have so much affection for this song in like a big sister way.

Love Him, I Don't — Ooft, this song hurt my feelings. The production at the start with her ‘ooh’s was already chilling but then she hit me with ‘I wasn’t eating and you still said nothing’ and ‘guess that was my stubborn season’ and took me out. ‘Love Him, I Don’t’ is a song about toxicity and I’ve been there. I have friends who have been there. The lyric ‘what a waste of your twenties’ reminded me of a relationship my best friend was in. There are so many little details in this song that make it so relatable in a way the hurts. I love the melody of the pre-chorus and chorus, and then she goes and strips it back in the last verse. The whole song is a 5-star experience. It's so raw and the emotion in her vocal takes it to another level.

Psycho — Maisie Peters said feral girl summer and make it catchy. There are two bridges in this song. That should be enough to sell me, but she had to go and write ‘you made me feel so useful then so used.’ All in all though, ‘Psycho’ is probably my least favourite and that’s only because there are so many good songs on this album that outrank this.

Boy — I’m joining Maisie Peters’ fight to take away men’s rights because valid. It’s funny because I can hear Ed Sheeran’s writing in this song, mostly in the production. I love the tone throughout this song, but specifically when she says 'I can tell that you've never been hugged, boy.' It's sassy as fuck and I love that for her. My favourite aspect of 'Boy' is that the catchiest part, the one that is most likely to get stuck in our heads. is 'I can do better than this' and that feels very intentional, like a little message from Maisie reminding us that we can do better than The Boy ™���.

Hollow — 'Hollow' is such a good heartbreak ballad. It has all the makings of a great classic pop ballad, from the piano to the production to the poetic lyrics. Was it fair of her to put the lyrics 'now I'm a comma in your explanation of your learning curves and your mistakes' in the same song, in the same verse, as 'you're the one that got away and you got away with a lot' and then follow it up with a bridge of memories and 'I just miss my friend'? Let's discuss. I think the reason I, personally, love this song so much is the lyrical links to other songs like 'Villain' ('now you're kissing that girl I shouldn't worry about'), 'Volcano' ('you got away with it') and 'Tough Act' ('saying goodbye to a best friend' / 'drain it all 'til its all so hollow'). I love it when there are layers to a story.

Villain — I’ve had the hook of ‘Villain’ stuck in my head all morning. The way she explores rage in this song as something bitter that we all swallow but it burns the whole way down our throats, that dichotomy being explored through the subtlety of the production and the feral lyrics, is absolute genius. The song is told through the perspective of someone that feels wronged but they are still the villain of someone else's story and that's something I can personally relate to. I love how much angst is in the bridge, aided by the build up in the production, as she sings 'whole town's gonna hear how you messed me up.' Truly excellent songwriting.

Brooklyn — I think Maisie absolutely shines when writing songs about her sister. 'Personal Best' is my most played song on Apple Music, ever. 'Brooklyn' is almost like a continuation of that, or a deeper dive into her relationship with her sister. The storytelling aspect of this song feels very organic, like a friend telling you all about the adventure of their transatlantic trip over a cup of coffee. And the production is chef's kiss.

Elvis Song — I think this song is the one I connect with the most. The nostalgia factor always gets me and that's what this entire song is. Is the whole second verse a callout? Maybe. It's fine. If I end up calling the person this song makes me think about, it's Maisie's fault. My favourite lyric is 'I was scared to throw my heart off the edge, easier to tell myself we'd mess it up instead, so I left.' That line reads me, but it also captures the tone of regret that comes with reflection on something that ended. The production of 'Elvis Song' gives me old-flame montage vibes. I think it's the perfect candidate for an end-of-summer single.

Talking To Strangers — 'Talking To Strangers' is such a cute song. The whole concept of random people knowing such minute details about your life, that maybe even the people in your life would overlook, just because this one person that loves you so much can't help but tell everyone they meet about you is so fucking romantic. This is such a romantic song. It is 'this made me think of you' in a song except instead of telling the person you think of, you're telling literally everyone that it made you think of them.

Volcano — 'Volcano' is very reminiscent of Maisie's musical roots, which is why this song is one of my favourites. The lyrics are an actual gut punch and her vocal delivery only makes it hit harder. I think the lines that really get me each time are 'in the silence when you stood there, you just stood there' and the bits in the chorus where she sings 'and your friends said nothing' or 'and the world said nothing.' When you're in a situation that can be toxic, it fucking hurts when no one says anything. Then you look back on it and wonder 'why did no one stop you from absolutely breaking me?'

Tough Act — I think many of the songs on YUSFT accumulate to 'Tough Act' and placing it as the album closer makes so much sense in terms of closure from a lot of these stories that Maisie has shared with us. 'Tough Act' is acknowledgement and growth. I think this is best described in the lyric 'I got busy and you forgot how to miss me when I'm not much of who you grew up with.' She has come to terms with the fact that things have changed and this break up is just 'the bad part of the right thing to do.' The melody of this song is so beautiful and it's only heightened when those strings come in under the piano. Maisie's lovely vocals are the cherry on top.

Ranking the songs on this album was so difficult because each one is so outstanding. I think YSUFT is honestly one of the best pop debuts in recent history. She absolutely nailed it.

Love Him, I Don't

Volcano

Villain

I'm Trying (Not Friends)

Elvis Song

Hollow

Brooklyn

Outdoor Pool

Tough Act

You Signed Up For This

Talking To Strangers

John Hughes Movie

Boy

Psycho

[hidden-otaku-stuff]

Lockscreens (epilogue)

tw: insecurities, implicit sex, nostalgia, bittersweet memories

Word count: 5.9k

Genre: Angst, fluff

All trigger warnings will be tagged and posted at the beginning of each chapter! This will have *manga spoilers*

Pairings: Bokuto x fem!reader, Kuroo x fem!reader

Summary: Nearly four years ago, Bokuto left the love of his life for volleyball. Despite all the time, he’s still very much in love with her. He comes home to a major surprise leaving him wondering…What happened while he was gone?

Masterlist | prev 

epilogue

“Now, please clear the floor for the First Dance.”

[When the visions around you, bring tears to your eyes]

“Shall we?” He grins, bowing slightly as he extends a hand to (Name). 

She giggles, placing her hand in his. “We shall.” 

[And all that surrounds you are secret and lies]

The lights dimmed as they made their way to the center of the dance-floor. 

“We finally got our official dance, huh?” He joked, pulling gently on a loose curl. 

[I’ll be your strength. I’ll give you hope. Keeping your faith when it’s gone. The one you should call, Was standing there all along]

Kuroo opened the door to the house, having been invited over by the pregnant woman and bearing a gift of her favorite pastry. It was week fifteen of her pregnancy. “(Name)?” He called, stepping into the living room after following the sound of sniffles. 

“K-Kuroo! You’re already here!” She frantically wiped at her face in an attempt to hide her blotchy face.

“What’s the matter?” He put the box onto the table, throwing his keys down as he sits besides her. “Why are you crying?” Kuroo gently grasps her hands, pulling it away to reveal the residual tears on her face.

“It’s silly,” she sniffled.

“You say that every time, and I tell you every time, if it bothers you, then it bothers me. So tell me, what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

She snorted, shaking her head. “It’s just Bokuto.”

“What about him?”

“I think he’s gone for good, Kuroo. I don’t think he’s gonna come back for me.”

Kuroo frowned, glancing down at the phone that she had clutched in one hand. The screen showed a picture of Bokuto and (Name) from high-school. “He’s an idiot if he leaves you behind,” Kuroo says softly, both hands cupping her face to wipe the tears away. “I promise you, I’ll always be here, ok? No matter what happens.

(Name) nods, giving him a watery smile. “You’re the best, Kuroo. When will you find someone to settle down with?” She giggled, hiccuping slightly.

Kuroo’s face softens as he brings her close, holding her against his chest. “Hopefully soon, sweetheart. But for now, you’re stuck with me, okay?”

She snuggled in closer, her eyes fluttering shut as her breathing deepened. Kuroo lets out a breathy chuckle.

‘She’s already here, in my arms. If only she saw me the way I saw her though.’

[And I will take you in my arms. And hold you right where you belong. ‘Til the day my life is through, This I promise you]

They spun slowly to the sound of a soft love ballad. It had been a long day. (Name) had just returned to work, bringing Hikori with her to the office. Kuroo himself had just returned from a business trip that (Name) had forced himself on. After putting their son to bed, they found themselves in each other’s embrace with a sigh of relief. 

“Y’know, I think we were supposed to save this for the wedding.” (Name) teased, looking up into hazel eyes.

Kuroo chuckled, holding her close to him. “Well, we did have a wedding.” His nose brushed against her in a tantalisingly close kiss. 

“Mmhm, you’re right,” (Name) agreed, “though we didn’t get a chance to dance during it.”

“How could we?” Kuroo teased. “With your swollen pregnant feet and our families and friends ambushing us left and right. Hardly seems like we had a chance, my dear.”

(Name) rested her head on his shoulder, humming slightly. “I love you, Tetsu.”

“I love you too, (Name). I love you so much.”

[I’ve loved you forever. In lifetimes before.]

“It only took us four years or so,” (Name) replied, (e/c) orbs gazing into hazel. 

“Eh, but those were some of the best years of my life.” Kuroo shrugged.

“Why’s that?” 

“Because I finally had you in my arms.” 

Her cheeks got hot, “you’re such a dork,” she mumbled, burying it into his shoulder. His chest shook with the rumble of his laughter. 

[And I promise you never, Will you hurt anymore]

“You want me to do what?”

“Can you help me ask (Name) out?” 

Kuroo examined Bokuto’s face carefully, forcing a smile onto his expression. “You want to ask my best friend out?”

“Yeah!” Bokuto nodded aggressively. “You know her the best, do you think you could help?”

Kuroo swallowed the pain that threatened to overwhelm him. He hadn’t mentioned his own feelings to (Name) yet, and here he was, already on the verge of losing her. “What was your plan?” 

[I give you my word. I give you my heart.] 

After listening to Bokuto’s plan, Kuroo reluctantly agreed. After all, he wanted to see her happy and if she thought she could find that with Bokuto, then Kuroo would support her every step of the way. Or, that’s what he kept telling himself as he watched Bokuto sweep her away to the dance-floor. 

Their eyes met over Bokuto’s shoulder as (Name) faced him. Kuroo grinned at her, sending her a wink. ‘Well?’ Kuroo asked silently, his eyebrows raising slightly. ‘Do you want him?’ Bokuto pulled away, capturing her attention once more. Kuroo’s silent question was answered when (Name) leaned forward, brushing her lips against Bokuto’s cheek. 

Once again, hazel eyes met (e/c). Kuroo forced himself to smile, giving her a thumbs-up. His heart shattered. Of course she would say yes. There was not an evil bone in her body. She’s never said that she wasn’t interested in Bokuto. Kuroo’s eyes flickered between her and her new boyfriend, making a ‘shoo-ing’ gesture. No matter what happens, he’ll still be here for her. 

[This is a battle we’ve won. And with this vow, Forever has now begun]

“Tetsu...I definitely do not still love Bokuto.” 

“Are you sure?” (Name)’s heart stuttered at the veiled pain in his voice. “How do you know?” 

Tears began welling up in her eyes. “How could you ask me that?” She whispered. Kuroo shrugged, an arm covering his own eyes. “Tetsu, look at me.” He shook his head, squeezing his own eyes shut as he swallowed thickly. “Tetsu, please.”

Kuroo swallowed once more, lifting his arm off of his eyes to look at (Name) through blurry eyes. “Yes?” 

“Don’t be like that.” Her lip jutted out into a soft frown. She rolls over, hovering over him. “Tetsurou Kuroo.” Kuroo flinched as she pronounced his full name. “Yes, I dated Bokuto before we started dating. Yes, Hikori is his son. But do you know what?”

“What?” 

Tears escaped down her cheeks as she looked at her husband. “I have always been in love with you. You - you stupid, rooster-headed, ex-volleyball captain, chemist nerd, you. You were always my go-to, my day one.” One of her hands cupped her face. “You’re the reason why I know what love feels like,” she mumbles under her breath, eyes searching his. “And I wouldn’t throw that away for anything. I am sorry it took me so long to realize this.” 

[Just close your eyes, each loving day. And know this feeling won’t go away]

“I don’t know how you do it.”

She hummed, “do what love?”

They slowly spin under the lights that shone brightly only for them. 

“Look more and more beautiful every day.” He brings her hand to his lips, pressing a dainty kiss onto her knuckles. 

She chuckles. “The only reason I look beautiful is because I have you to love and care for me, Tetsu.” 

[‘Til the day my life is through, This I promise you. This I promise you]

The sound of soft snores filled the room as Kuroo sat in his chair, rocking back and forth. He glanced over at his wife, who was sprawled out on the bed. Kuroo stifled a chuckle. She’d been exhausted the past few days, waking up at all hours in order to take care of their son. Kuroo had decided to use part of his paternity leave in order to come home and support (Name) better. He hummed a soft lullaby as he looked back at the bundle in his arms. Hikori was sound asleep, soft breaths causing his small chest to rise and fall. “You truly bring us an abundance of joy,” Kuroo whispered, placing a dainty kiss onto Hikori’s forehead. His other hand reached out, settling onto (Name)’s extended hand. She made a soft noise, her fingers gently grabbing onto Kuroo’s longer ones. His eyes settled softly on his wife. “I’ll always take care of you.” His grip tightened on Hikori. “Both of you.”

[Over and over I thought. When I hear you call] 

Warmth spread through his body as he looked down at his angelic wife. “Y’know, I still can’t believe this has happened,” Kuroo admitted. “These past four or so years have honestly felt like a dream.

“Is that so?” (Name) hummed. “So you used to dream about us ending up together, roosterhead?”

“Oh only every day,” Kuroo replied, nodding solemnly. They both chuckled. 

“I’m glad it was you.” 

“Hmm?”

“I’m glad that it was you who found my heart, Tetsu.” (Name) explained, glassy eyes peering into his hazel eyes. His heart lurched as he swallowed his own tears. “And that you were patient enough to wait for me.” 

[WIthout you in my life, baby. I just wouldn’t be living at all]

“Is that it?” Kenma asked, fixing Kuroo with a hard stare. “After all these years, you’re not even going to try?” 

Kuroo looked up at his best friend with an exasperated look. “What do you mean, Kenma? What else could I do?” 

“You could confess!” Kuroo flinched, opening his mouth to respond only to get cut off again. “You’ve been in love with (Name) for so many years now, and you’re just going to let that owl-head steal her away from you?”

“Yes I will! If that’s what she wants and what will make her happier, then I will.”

“How do you know what she wants? You never even gave her a chance to know her options.” 

Kuroo shook his head. “I don’t want to put her in a weird spot or make her uncomfortable.”

“So you’d rather lose her?” 

“I’d rather be in her life as her best friend than to put our friendship at risk.”

“Do you really think (Name) would throw you out if she rejects you?” Kenma’s expression softened slightly. “We both know that would never happen.”

Kuroo gave Kenma a pained expression, words strangling him as he forced them out. “I love her. And I don’t think I’ll ever stop loving her Kenma. But her happiness will always come first for me.” 

[And I will take you in my arms, and hold you right where you belong.]

“I love you (Name). Have for a really, really long time,” Kuroo chuckled. “I’m just glad that you could find it in your heart to love me back.” His grip tightened on her hip, pulling her closer.

They spun slowly. The golden light sparkled off of the jewelry she wore. “It was always there,” she admitted finally, squeezing his arm. “I always knew that I loved you. I just never anticipated it to be like this.”

[Til the day my life is through, This I promise you. Just close your eyes, each loving day. And know this feeling won’t go away.]

“Happy one year anniversary baby.” Kuroo whispered against her lips as he cupped her cheeks.

“I can’t believe it’s already been a year,” (Name) smiled, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of the cool metal ring on Kuroo’s hand. She raised her hands, slotting her fingers with his.  

“Thank god Hiki’s with Aya,” he grinned. 

“And why’s that?” (Name) teased, pulling back. “Tired of having to share me?”

Kuroo scooped her up in her arms, causing her to squeal. “Absolutely,” he replied. “I’ve been waiting to have you to myself all these years. Excuse me for not wanting to share you with our son.” He tosses her onto the bed, climbing on top of her with a cheeky smirk, peppering kisses all over her face. “God I love you so much.” 

“You’re such a cheeseball, roosterhead,” (Name) chided as her eyes sparkled with amusement. She rolled him over, pinning his hands above his head as she started to decorate him with her own kisses. 

“Yes, but I’m your cheeseball~!”

“Apparently so.”

“For now and always,” Kuroo teased, hazel eyes sparkling with affection.

“Maybe just for now,” she winked. He flipped them once more, eyes glinting with mischief now.

“I guess I’ll just have to re-convince you on the ‘forever’ part,” he purred. She squealed as he pounced.  

[Every word I say is true, This I promise you]

“I already said it during our vows all those years ago,” Kuroo began, pulling back to look (Name) directly in the eyes. “I promise that no matter what happens, I will remain by your side. I will take care of you, to catch you when you stumble, and share each and every day with you.” He kissed her knuckles before holding that hand close to his chest. “I’m yours, for as long as you’ll have me.”

“As long as that’s for now and forever, that works out for me.” (Name)’s eyes fluttered shut, pressing her forehead against Kuroo’s.

“You’re stuck with me for the rest of your life, love,” Kuroo whispered to her. 

****

As the final few notes of the song plays, Kuroo gently pulls back, tilting her chin up and capturing her lips with his. They come apart, Kuroo whispering something against her lips before they kiss again. Cheers and coos fill the air. The bridesmaids had tears streaming down their faces as they watched their best friend find her happy ending. The groomsmen had red faces, some even had redness around their eyes as they hid their own tears. The mothers of the happy couple were dabbing their cheeks with handkerchiefs, blowing their noses noisily. The fathers drank flutes of champagne as they toasted to the couples’ happiness.

Kuroo and (Name) stepped apart, her cheeks flushed red. They went back to the head table, rejoining their bridesmaids and groomsmen. 

Before he knew what he was doing, he was approaching the table. 

He cleared his throat awkwardly, averting his eyes. “May I have this dance?” 

She looked up to him, offering him a soft smile as she placed her hand in his. “Of course.” They both glanced at Kuroo, who gave a gentle smile to her and nodded in Bokuto’s direction. With Kuroo’s permission, Bokuto escorts her to the dance-floor, making his way to the center of the floor. By now, other couples were also dancing with their partners. In the corner of his eye, Bokuto spots Hikori dancing with Aiko. 

[You’re in my arms and all the world is calm]

As they stepped under the lights, the world faded. Her arms snaked around his neck, fingers linking as his hands found purchase on her hips.

[The music playing on for only two. So close together, and when I’m with you, so close to feeling alive]

“You look beautiful.” He murmured, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Golden pools bathed her in an ethereal light. Her cheeks glowed as her eyes sparkled. She looked like an angel stepping out in her white dress. (Name) was absolutely radiating. 

“Thank you Kou,” she smiled. His heart ached at the familiar sight. Just for this moment, he knew that her smile was just for him. Just like before. His grip tightened on her, pulling her closer.

[A life goes by, Romantic dreams must die. So I bid my goodbye, and never knew.]

“Hello?”

“Hey baby! I missed you!” 

(Name) giggled over the phone. “I’ve missed you too, Kou. How’s training?”

Bokuto collapsed onto his bed, running a hand through his hair. “Pretty rough,” he sighed, rolling his shoulder. His muscles ached from the rigorous training. “The guys are all so good, it’s been really hard to keep up.”

He could hear the shuffling of sheets on her end. “You’ve got this, Kou. I believe in you.” Bokuto’s eyes fluttered shut. “They wouldn’t have invited you if they didn’t think you would do well.”

Bokuto hummed. “How are things with you?”

“Good, I’m almost finished with my classes.” He could just hear the smile in her voice now. His heart skipped a beat. “Soon, I’ll officially be a recreational therapist,” she declared happily. 

Bokuto forced a smile on his face. “I’m so happy for you baby.” He was happy. He was happy for her. But he hated how he was doing. How difficult it was for him to do well during his conditioning. How could he make (Name) proud if he couldn’t even succeed at this opportunity she gave him? “I’m actually really tired, I’m going to sleep now.”

“Oh, now?” The disappointed tone in her voice almost convinced him to stay on call longer, but he shook his head.

“Yeah, gotta be up early tomorrow for more conditioning.”

“Right, you must be exhausted. Get some rest, Kou. Good night, I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Bokuto stared at his phone a moment longer as the call ended before he threw it onto his nightstand. Tomorrow, he’d be better. Tomorrow, he’d make her proud. He wouldn’t call her until he could prove to himself and to her that leaving her over three hundred miles away was worth it. His pride wouldn’t allow him otherwise. 

Unfortunately, that would be the last time he heard her voice on the phone.

[So close, was waiting. Waiting here with you, and now, forever, I know.]

They slowly spun in a circle. She blinked up at him with soft doe eyes through eyelashes lengthened with mascara and falsies. “Thank you for coming. I know it must have been difficult.”

Bokuto shrugged, squeezing her tighter. “I promised you forever, didn’t I?” His throat tightened.

She let out a breathy laugh. “You did.” (Name) leaned forward, putting her head on his shoulder as she let Bokuto rock their bodies side to side. 

[All that I wanted, to hold you so close]

“(Nickname)!” The ringing of his voice was the only warning that she got before a muscular body slammed into her. She let out a wheeze as her soul left her body.

“Kou!” She choked, slapping his back. Bokuto’s booming laugh filled the gym as he spun her round and round until they both felt dizzy. He placed her feet gently back onto the ground, arms still wound tightly around her. “Ooh, don’t do that, I feel sick,” she groaned, swaying in his arms. (Name) squeezed her eyes shut, swallowing as she attempted to recalibrate. Getting injured on their first day of training camp, year two, would not be fun. 

“Don’t worry, I’m here for you!” Of course, Bokuto immediately collapsed onto the floor due to his own dizziness, pinning her underneath him.

“Someone’s excited to see me,” she teased, patting his shoulder affectionately. “Now get off me, ya lug. You’re squishing me!” 

Bokuto rolled over, letting her lay on his chest as he nuzzled her hair. “Is this better?”

Heat surged up to her cheeks as she quickly averted her eyes. “S-sure.” 

“I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too, Kou.”

[So close to reaching that famous happy end. Almost believing this one’s not pretend.]

“One of these days, I’m going to marry you, y’know?" 

“Is that so?” 

One of his hands brushed through her hair as the other played with her fingers as they laid in their shared bed. It was a few days after they’d moved in together. “Of course, you’re the love of my life, (Nickname). I can’t imagine a future without you in it.” 

She giggled, slotting her fingers in his and giving them a squeeze. “I love you, Kou.”

“I love you too. You’re it for me. You’re the endgame for me.” (Name) tilted her face up. Bokuto leaned down, capturing her lips with us. Their lips slotted together so perfectly. As he pulled back, he couldn’t stop the grin that overtook his features. “Yep, definitely my endgame.” 

[And now you’re beside me, and look how far we’ve come.]

“And then, Kuroo ended up tripping and spilling his tea all over me.” (Name) giggled, brushing her hair back with her free hand. She was swinging their intertwined hands as they walked home from their date. It was the summer before their first year of college.  

Bokuto planted his feet, chewing on his lip as he steeled his nerves. “(Name)?” At the sound of his voice, she paused, turning to look at her boyfriend.

“Yes?”

“I love you.” 

Her eyes widened. “You what?” 

“I love you. I’ve loved you ever since I met you our first year of high-school.” Shock faded from her features only to be overcome with joy. “Oh no, why are you crying?” Bokuto panicked, reaching for her face.

His hand caressed her cheek, wiping away the tears. “I love you too, dummy.” 

[So far we are, so close]

They spun slightly, swaying to the music. Bokuto pressed his forehead against hers, breathing in her sweet perfume. 

His eyes fluttered shut, pretending that this was all just for them. 

That the golden band on her finger had been given by him. 

That the spotlight shone brightly for what was once their love. 

Where his son was raised by him instead of a stranger. 

When she was his, and he was hers. 

[Oh how could I face the faceless days, if I should lose you now]

A hand tapped on his shoulder, bringing him out of his stupor. “Mind if I cut in?” 

Bokuto offered Kuroo a resigned, sorrowful smile, nodding as he stepped back. “Of course.” Bokuto gave (Name) one last smile. “Thank you.” 

Both husband and wife gave him a smile. 

His heart clenched.

[We’re so close to reaching that famous happy end. Almost believing this one’s not pretend.] 

“Thank you, Kou.” Kuroo squeezed his shoulder, before taking his place. Kuroo’s arms snaked around her waist, pulling her impossibly close to him. She giggled, placing her head on his shoulder as Kuroo spun his wife away from Bokuto.

[Let’s go on dreaming for we know we are so close] 

Feet pounded towards him as a small shape pounced on Bokuto. “Kou-san!” Bokuto turned, opening up his arms as Hikori jumped into his arms. “You and Mama looked so nice together!”

[So close, and still so far]

Bokuto glanced back at the married couple, Say You Won’t Let Go playing as they stayed for another dance. Away from their well-wishers off in a world of their own. A wistful look filled his expression.

“Whoa, careful babe!” Bokuto chuckled, a hand on (Name)’s waist. She giggled, throwing her arms around his neck. 

“I wanna dance s’more!” She slurred, the smell of beer fanning across his face.

“You can barely stand,” Kuroo piped up beside her with Bokuto nodded firmly, their own cheeks tinted red from the alcohol.

“C’mon, I’ll take you home and we can dance there, ok?” He promised, placing a chaste kiss on her forehead. Bokuto looks up at Kuroo. “We’ll see you later, okay?”

(Name) stumbled up, making grabby hands at Kuroo. “Bye Tetsu~! I’ll miss youuuu,” she said. Kuroo patted her cheek, a soft expression on his face.

“Take care of her, Bo.” Kuroo clapped Bokuto on the back before turning around and walking down the street towards his own apartment.

As they got into the taxi on their way home, (Name) was crawling all over Bokuto’s body. “Baby, don’t do that,” he chided, amused. 

“I wanna cuddle,” she pouted. 

He scooped her into his lap, nuzzling into her neck. “I love you so much baby.” 

“I love you too, Kou,” she mumbled, burying her face into his. “S’much. Wanna be with you forever.”

“Always, baby.” 

Bokuto shook his head slightly, chuckling as he patted Hikori’s head affectionately. “You and Aiko did too, ‘Kori.” 

“Do you think?” Hikori blinked up with matching golden pools. 

“Definitely!” Bokuto smiled. “You should go give her something. Maybe go get her a cupcake?”

“That’s a great idea! Thank you, Kou-san.” With that, Hikori leapt out of Bokuto’s arms and went sprinting towards the dessert aisle. 

Bokuto sighed, making his way back to his table. Akaashi sat there, sipping from a glass of wine beside Kenma who was avoiding the rowdiness of the Head Table. Kenma glanced up at Bokuto as he collapsed into his seat. “I think I’ll go get some dessert.” Kenma stood, nodding at Bokuto before making his way to the dessert table, intercepting Hikori who had a plate towered high with all types of sweets. 

Kenma took the plate from the boy, pointing at his parents and whispering something to Hikori. Hikori nodded seriously, before running to Kuroo and (Name). Kuroo laughed, scooping Hikori up. Kuroo placed Hikori onto her shoulders. (Name) held onto Hikori’s thigh, the other holding Kuroo’s as they spun together, laughing joyfully. 

“How are you feeling, Bokuto-san?”

Bokuto shrugged, pouring himself a new glass of wine and downing it. “I’m...happy for them.”

“But?”

He let out a soft chuckle, middle finger tracing the mouth of his glass. “But I really wish I hadn’t let her go.” 

Akaashi squeezed his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto shrugged off Akaashi’s hand. “S’okay. It’s my own fault anyways.” They turned, watching as Kuroo dipped her slightly. She squealed as she fell into a fit of giggles, before Kuroo pulled her back up and pressed his lips to hers. Hikori was back in his father’s arms, making a face at his parents’ display of affection. 

Bokuto turned back to his glass, filling it once more.

The microphone sounded out as the last song faded out. “May I have everyone’s attention?” Kuroo stood in the very front of the hall, (Name) standing beside him, Hikori in her arms. 

“First of all, thank you to everyone for coming. It means a lot to (Name) and me that you were here for our wedding day, especially after four years of waiting for our special little man to join us.” The crowd laughed. Kuroo turned to face his wife, squeezing her hip. “Since you’re already all gathered here today, we do have a special announcement.” Kuroo looked down at his wife, hazel eyes sparkling with love and deep affection before he grinned at his son, pinching Hikori’s cheek. “Hikori, guess what?”

“What, Dad?”

“You’re going to be a big brother.” 

The crowd erupted into noise. Some of the males hooted and hollered at Kuroo. Ladies gasped and shrieked in delight. (Name)’s mother burst into more tears. But to be fair, she hadn’t really stopped. She’d been crying since the vow renewal. And then was overwhelmed with another fit of tears during their first dance. 

But for Bokuto? 

The world froze. The noise faded into black as he stared blankly at the couple. He watched with unfocused eyes as she was surrounded by her bridesmaids. Her maid of honor, Aya, was tugging on (Name)’s arm and mutedly shouting over the empty noise. Kuroo’s groomsmen surrounded him, Yaku slapping a hand onto his back. Bokuto snapped out of his reverie as a small body collided with his. 

“Kou-san!” Bokuto’s head jerked down, staring as Hikori tugged on his arm. “Did ya hear that?” Bokuto forced his face into a grin that didn’t quite meet his eyes. Akaashi sent him a sympathetic look, excusing himself.

“Yeah! You’re gonna be a big bro, little man.” 

“Papa said I’m going to have a sister!” Hikori’s eyes sparkled with joy, beaming. Absentmindedly, Bokuto wondered if that’s what he looked like when he was happy. Hikori hesitated for a moment. “Do you think she’ll like me?”

His question snapped Bokuto out of his self-pity spiral. “Aw, ‘Kori, she’s gonna love ya!” Bokuto nuzzled his nose into Hikori’s cheeks, blowing air onto them.

Hikori squealed, squirming in his arms. “Stop it, Kou-san!” 

Bokuto pulled back, beaming. “C’mon, let’s go get some more ice cream, okay?” 

“Yes!” Hikori bounced up, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. Bokuto finished another glass of wine, noticing Akaashi’s wince in the corner of his eyes before Bokuto went with Hikori to the dessert table.  

Bokuto scanned the banquet hall. It was beautiful, to say the least. Kuroo and (Name) were well-established in their careers, and were able to go all-out on this dream-like wedding. Fairy lights hung in tulle curtains on all of the walls, and mini-chandeliers hung over each table. Blush pink, gold, and white flowers made the centerpieces with more fairy lights in the vases. Those were surrounded by candles floating in water-filled shot-glasses. Small plastic boxes with succulents propped on top sat at each seat, a tag with the seat’s name sticking out of it and macarons enclosed in the box. 

Just like her first wedding, the room felt almost like a volleyball reunion. At one table, Iwaizumi was with Oikawa and the former Karasuno members. Bokuto and Hikori walked by as Iwaizumi was smacking the Argentinian player on the head for some ridiculous comment or another. 

Nekoma’s alumni had their own table. Lev was sitting there arguing with Shibayama and Inuoka. Bokuto and Akaashi had been seated together, joined by Bokuto’s teammates from the MSBY Black Jackals. Konoha had been invited as a groomsmen since his wife was the Maid of Honor. At the moment, Bokuto’s team-mates were scattered throughout the hall. Some were mingling with other members of the Japan national team. He could vaguely spot Atsumu flirting with one of the bridesmaids at their table. 

“Alright little man, what type of ice cream do you want?” They stopped in front of the ice cream stand that was near the dessert table. Bokuto scooped Hikori up into his arms so that he could peer down into the ice-box. 

“Can I get chocolate and strawberry?” 

“Of course!” Bokuto relayed the ice cream order to the lady working the stand, who smiled at Bokuto and Hikori.

“Your son is very cute,” she complimented, rolling her sleeves up to scoop up the chocolate.

Bokuto gave her a forced smile, the bitter taste of envy surging forward. “He’s not mine. He’s the bride’s.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry.” She bowed, handing Bokuto the cup of ice cream, who handed it to Hikori. “Feel free to grab as many toppings as you’d like, ok?” She smiled, gesturing to the table beside her stand.

“Thank you!” Hikori bowed to her, before scrambling over to the tables. 

Bokuto grinned at his son, before thanking the nice ice cream lady and following him. “Oh, Kou!” He turned, his smile freezing on his face.

“He-hey, (Name)!” 

She smiled at him, pulling him into a hug. “Thank you so much for watching Hiki.” Bokuto’s eyes closed as he enjoyed her warmth, letting it seep through his body and settle into the gaping black hole of his heart. “I can’t imagine how much it means to you, and I’m so thankful that you’re in his life,” she whispered into his ear before pulling away. As soon as she did, he couldn’t help but lean in towards her, chasing the remnants of the sun like a child chasing after the sunset. 

“I’m just glad that I could be a part of his life.” Bokuto forced his lips up higher. They stood side by side, watching together as their son came back with a tower of toppings on his ice cream. “Whoa, be careful or you’ll make a mess ‘Kori.”

“I will, Kou-san!”

“Let’s sit down so you don’t spill everywhere,” (Name) suggested, gesturing to the nearest empty table. Bokuto pulled out her chair for her, waiting for her to sit down before taking his seat. Hikori sat in between them. 

“Shouldn’t you be greeting people and accepting congratulations?”  

She snorted, kicking her heels off with a sigh of relief. “Kuroo can do that. My feet are aching.” (Name) sent him a bemused smile. “Guess that’s just what happens when you’re wearing heels all day while pregnant.”

Bokuto choked on air, before he focused his attention on Hikori who was eagerly scooping ice cream into his mouth. Bokuto grabbed one of the napkins, wiping the ice cream marks off of Hikori’s cheeks. “Congratulations, by the way.”  

“Thanks, Kou.” 

Bokuto scanned the room, anxious for some words to fill the silence. “You look beautiful,” he blurted. 

(Name) giggled, fiddling with her earring. “You said that already, Kou.”

“Mama does look beautiful, doesn’t she?” Hikori piped up, gazing with childlike awe between his mother and father. “Like an angel!”

“You’re right, ‘Kori. Your mother does look like an angel.” Bokuto ruffled Hikori’s hair. 

(Name) sighed as she caught Kuroo gesturing for her to join him. He was currently being swarmed by her family members. “Alright you flirts, don’t make a mess okay? I need to go save my husband.” With a final wave, (Name) picked up her heels with her fingertips and sauntered over to Kuroo.

****

As (Name) and Kuroo said goodbye to their guests, they handed out small burlap bags to all the adults. Bokuto chuckled at them. “Hangover Kit” was emblazoned on the bags, joined with the Red Cross logo. Fitting for someone in the medical industry. Hikori and Aiko were handing out small bags of candies and toys to all the kids who were exiting, carefully supervised by Konoha. Aya was supervising the clean-up of the hall.    

“Be good for Kou-san when we’re gone, okay, Hiki?”

“Yes, Mama!” Hikori kicked at the ground, pouting slightly. “Can’t I come?”

“Next time, Hiki, ok?” Kuroo squatted down, extending a hand to Hikori. “I promise you, we’ll take you on a special trip just us three before your sister comes, ok?” 

Hikori linked his pinky with his father, nodding aggressively. “Ok!” Kuroo opened his arms, letting Hikori jump into them. “I love you, Papa!” 

“Love you too, Hiki.” Kuroo rubbed Hikori’s back before placing him down and letting (Name) hug her son.

“I love you, Hiki. I promise, we’ll be home in a few days okay?” She bent down, peppering kisses all over his face.

“Bye Mama! I love you too.” 

Hikori was released from his parents, backing up until he ran into Bokuto’s legs. Bokuto scooped him up. “Don’t worry, I’ll take real good care of him.”

“Thanks Kou.” (Name) kissed his cheek, hugging both of them. Bokuto savored the moment. “We’ll see you on Monday!” 

“Let’s go love.” Kuroo opened the backseat door to Kenma’s car, who would be driving them to the airport. “Thanks Bokuto.” Kuroo nodded at the other male, before helping (Name) into the car. With one final wave, the couple were racing down the streets.

“I’ll miss them.”

Bokuto ruffled Hikori’s hair. “Me too.” 

His heart screamed at him. To chase after her one more time. To hold her in his arms. They were so close. Words clawed at his throat, threatening to choke him as he swallowed back the tears that threatened to overwhelm him. 

I love you, (Name). I never stopped loving you. I was an idiot for ghosting you. An idiot for leaving you. Please, come back. I wanna raise our son with you. 

I wish we could be parents together for Hikori. 

I wish that I was taking you on our honeymoon. 

I wish that you were pregnant with my daughter. 

I wish we still lived together in that house we bought all those years ago. 

I wish that you were still mine. 

Please.

But Bokuto remained silent, watching as the car drove the love of his life further and further away from him. He looked down at his lockscreen. A photo of his red Japan national jersey stared back at him. It’s said that what you set as your lock-screen would end up being the most important thing to you. 

At the end of the day, that was the choice he made. 

Volleyball. 

Not a future with the love of his life. 

Not a future with kids. 

Not a future with (Name).

*****

AN: And that’s a wrap y’all! How are we feeling? Is this what you expected? What was your favourite part about Lockscreens? 

Please, spam my ask-box with your thoughts/comments/ideas. God I’m so emotional just posting this asdfghjkl

Since the series has officially wrapped up, feel free to ask for more supplements! I do have (2) more Lockscreens supplements to work on from the 600 follower event, but I’ll permanently be opening up supplements for Lockscreens on an “if I like it, I’ll write it” basis. 

Taglist: @toaster-stick @thatartsybitch @brazil-hinata @sawamooora  @anejuuuuoy @abby-rutledge20 @babybluebisexual @badboysdoitbetter2 @liathachcapricious @cosmiclunas @wishingforanother @setterfish @toobsessedsstuff @yeehawslap @shadowkunoichi @haikyuusimp91  @firebonbon @mentalydisturbed@samkysnks @dolan-mendes16  @loudpoetry23 @estmagnifique @milkteeboba @newfriendjen  @sempiternal-amour @scrappyfka @ mayor-chu-of-many-towns @bokutosdivineass @yeahhemmings- @elianetsantana @strawhatshepard @caramel-chuuya @sol-demure  @song-of-storms162 @rogueofbullshit @cheerysparkle @killlerqween @aomineavenue​ @fatal-impact​ @isleofnajera​ @safa-a07​ @shoyomeow​ @vicassa​ @shrimpypenis​ @craftyfawns​ @london-quynh​ @katelyns-stuff​  @leinnah​ @yoitsseulgi​ @tazzi-baby @babyydragon21 

I couldn’t tag names in bold.

Thank you again for going on this journey with me. 

[stevesharrlngtons]

what i want.

roman godfrey x reader

summary: takes place in s1 of hemlock grove just after roman’s coma and the aftermath.  

word count: 3.1k

a/n: yeaaahhhh so i know this is st related but it felt more right to post this here over my marvel account? anyways, i just really really wanted to write for roman and this poured out of me yesterday (which is surprising bc i can’t remember the last time i wrote a fic all in one day) but even though i already know this is gonna flop, i wanted to post it anyway just for fun (: i hope you enjoy and if you do read, please let me know that you think!!!!

With an ear pressed to his chest and a hand cradling his neck, you counted the rhythmic beats of his frail heart.

He looked the same, felt the same, smelt the same; but the man we lay still below you wasn’t Roman. Not in the metaphorical sense at least. This man who’s lashes lay gently against the apples of his cheeks obscuring his large doe eyes, wasn’t your love. He was still and quiet and lacked the emotion of your Roman. Your Roman who could never hide how he really felt, who wore every feeling on his sleeve, unable to mask his emotion.

At least, always around you.

A soft french ballad played in the background as you hunched over his hospital bed in the attic of the Godfrey home. You could hear the faint scratch of the needle against the vinyl, more so when there was a lull between songs.

Heavy footsteps entered from your right and you knew before they reached you that it was Shelly to fetch you for school.

“I know, Shell.” You said quietly, like you might wake Roman from his restless sleep if you spoke any louder, “I just need a few more minutes with him.”

The tall girl loomed over you both, watching you stroke Roman’s cheek lovingly with your thumb, the rest of your nimble fingers still holding his thin neck.

She had never experienced the kind of unequivocal and palpable love that she did when she observed you and Roman together. She often wondered if all the tales of true love and soulmates that were regaled in some of her favorite novels were actually true? Because the way you looked at Roman, and the way Roman looked at you, could not be fabricated or faked.

After a long beat of silence, Shelly gripped her phone and typed out a simple message to you.

“I miss him, too.”

She could see tears forming in your eyes once more. Your eyes that seemed to have not ceased their perpetual filming for the last two weeks Roman had been under.

All you could was nod in response. When Shelly placed a dense hand on your shoulder, you silently wept.

It all felt so surreal. But Roman was always larger than life, you probably should have prepared for something like this. You were just so scared.

That night two weeks before, when he had come to you in the pouring rain, drenched to the bone, you had been scared then, too. Roman was dramatic, yes. But never anything like this. He trembled fiercely and his fingers twitched and his muscles rippled with fear.

He didn’t seem himself as you wrapped him in blankets and placed him in your bed to warm his icy bones. You had wound your arms around him as he cried into your neck, tears and snot streaking your skin as you soothed him the best you could.

“I’m ugly, I’m a monster, I am unlovable and disgusting.” He chanted between hiccups and deep intakes of breath, like he was under a spell.

“Please stop, please don’t say that. You’re not, you’re not, you’re not. I love you, I always will.” You whispered sincerely to him, beginning to shutter yourself at the uncharatieric behavior he was displaying.

He startled you even more when he grasped your wrists together with one hand and flipped you onto your back, meeting you with a fierce kiss before you could comprehend his actions.

It was all teeth and tongue and labored breathing as Roman pulled your strings in only the way that he could. Once he was inside you, he only became more brutal. It was more pain than pleasure as he looked at you with soulless eyes and his mouth agape. But everything Roman was, was good. Even now he felt like heaven.

When he had finished and pulled two orgasms from your body, he collapsed on top of you. You cocooned him with your limbs, whispering loving words and frightened questions as his body seemed to pass out from sheer emotional exhaustion, anchoring you beneath him.

The next morning, you were dressed in nothing but Roman’s cardigan and tucked underneath your duvet with no knowledge of his departure the night before.

It was only minutes after you woke that Olivia called to curtly inform you of Roman’s condition.

You placed your own hand, the one not holding Roman, over Shelly’s and squeezed it.

“He is so lucky to have you.” You said, swallowing thickly to look up and give Shelly a smile, “He loves you so much, I know he’ll wake just for you.”

Shelly knew you were trying to soothe her as well, something you had a knack for since you came into the two Godfrey’s lives. She appreciated it greatly, but wished you would let yourself swim and stop trying to make sure she stayed afloat.

“You, as well. He will wake for us.” Shelly typed and you squeezed her hand in a tight pulse.

“We can only hope.”

You dropped Shelly’s hand as she went to turn the music off while you kissed Roman goodbye.

“Where, today?” Came Shelly’s mechanical voice as the music ceased.

“His left eyelid.” You replied, standing up and stroking Roman’s porecelain cheek.

You had taken to kissing a new part of Roman each day as you left him. To cherish him even while his mind was missing. You were saving his lips for when he woke, hoping his subconscious would crave your mouth on his enough to jar him from his slumber. Roman was never quiet about his appreciation for your lips.  

“And tomorrow?” She asked.

“The other.”

As you sat in english class, you couldn’t help but feel Peter’s absence in the seat next to yours. With neither him nor Roman around, you felt off kilter. The boys had been going through a rough patch lately, but Peter was still your friend when Roman wasn’t looking. Giving you winks that would reply with an eye roll, and chatting between classes. You believed you could mend the fence between the two men by simply being Switzerland, but after the police incident, Peter wasn’t so sure.

But you and Roman were alike in many ways, you told Peter as much.

“You two will work this out. Even if it gets hard.” You say flippantly one day as you rummaged through your purse for a tube of lipgloss.

“Yeah? And how do you know? Are you an oracle and just haven’t told me?” Peter jokes as you take the cosmetic from your bag.

You remove the fuzzy doe-foot applicator from the pink make up with a loud squelch and smirk at him.

“Because not only do I know everything,” a swipe of the goods on your lips, “But, I always get what I want.”

Now, his absence along with Roman’s seemed to be significant. Connected.

And then you got a call.

And the ID almost gave you a heart attack.

You fled the classroom without the formality of an excuse. It wasn’t any secret that you and Roman were a couple, so some teachers had been far more lenient with you since he had fallen under. Thankfully, Ms. Day was one of them.

You ran from the class and around the corner for the veil of privacy before you picked up the call.

“Roman?”

“God, how I’ve missed your voice.” He said, punctuated with his melodic laugh.

You burst into tears, clenching your phone tightly in your sweating palm as Roman cooed to you.

“Hey, hey, no. No tears, baby. Too fucking hot to be sad, you know that?”

“I’m not sad, God no! These are tears of joy, of fucking relief.” You felt suddenly very fatigued from the worry and dread escaping your body at the sound of Roman’s voice, and slid down the wall to the grey linoleum below.

“Good, hate to think you’d forget about me after two weeks out of commission.” You could see his smile in your minds eye and your stomach twinge with love.

“You know I could never forget about you.” You replied, whipping your damp cheeks on the back of your hand.

“I’m glad. I was counting on it.” You can see his smirk now.

“Dick.” You laughed and he did as well.

“Eh, you love me.”

“Yeah, yeah I do.”

There was a silence and you wished so helplessly that he was in your arms. Your Roman. Not the still and sterile one. The one with a wicked tongue and a beautiful smile that he offered to you so freely.

It was in this silence though, that you heard the purr of an engine.

“Baby, are you in a car? Are you with Olivia?”

“Uh, no. Not exactly.” And the bubble of joy popped just as it had formed.

“Roman, where are you? Why are you in a car?”

“It’s nothing for you to worry about, my love.” He hummed quietly his adoration and immediately you knew what was happening.

“Put Peter on the phone.”

“How did you-”

“Just fucking do it, Roman.”

You could hear him curse, then the shuffle of the phone being passed between hands.

“Hey, (Y/N/N), how’ya doin’?” Peter asked, faking a calm tone.

“Let’s forget the goddamn pleasantries, Peter. What in the living fuck are you doing trying to track this wolf when Roman just rose from the dead?”

“Rose from the dead sounds a bit dramatic, don’t you think?”

“Does it sound like I give a shit?”

“Frankly, no. It doesn’t.”

“And what does it sound like I give a shit about?”

“Probably Roman not doing this right now.”

“Bingo, Fiddo. Now you either take him back to his house or I am coming to find you two and I promise you, I can be scarier than Olivia.” You hissed into the receiver, looking around to make sure no rouge students in the halls were hearing your conversation.

“Oh I don’t doubt it. But this was his choice, (Y/N). Nothing neither of us can do anything to change his mind.”

“Peter, I swear to-” This time, you were the one cut short.

“Baby, listen,” Roman said after commandeering his phone back.

“No, Roman, you listen! I know you have some attachment to helping kill this thing, but now isn’t the time.”

“But it is. It’s complicated, but you just have to trust me on this.”

“I do trust you, Ro. I do. But I don’t trust whatever this thing is.” You sighed, leaning your head back against the wall, “Unfortunately I do trust what it is capable of. Which is a fuck tone pain.”

“I’ll be safe. I have Peter, Peter’s got me. I got this. We know what we’re doing.”

“Wish I could believe that.”

“Baby, I promise. I swear, even. We are gonna find some answers and then I’ll be home to you in one piece.”

You pause and Roman calls your name from the phone, his voice vulnerable.

“It’s funny. This morning you were in a coma and you were more safe then than you are right now.”

“I love you.” Roman says firmly.

“I know.”

Another pause and you know you can’t scold your way out of this one.

“Just… please call me when you get back. I don’t think I can take another minute of being away from you.” Your tears were beginning again.

“Me too. You’re all I can think about,” Roman sniffles, “I need you, I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

You both sit in silence on the line before Roman tells you he needs to go.

“Ok… but hey, Turner?”

“Yeah?”

“Tell Hooch to be careful. Both of you just… be careful.”

“Always.”

And the line goes dead.

After school you debated going straight to the Godfrey residence to wait for Roman to return, but decided against it. You weren’t sure exactly what Olivia knew and didn’t know, and didn’t feel like being alone with her while you figured it out.

So, you waited anxiously in your bedroom, doing everything possible to quell your shaking nerves. You had a perpetual tremor in your body as fiddled with your phone to try and distract yourself. Which was partly true, the other reason your phone was glued to your palm was so you would know the second Roman contacted you.

Though, as the sun descended in the sky and the night sky spanned for hours, you were becoming more restless. Whatever Peter and Roman were doing was no doubt dangerous and time sensitive, and it made you sick that it was nearing midnight without any word from either boy.

As the night continued to wear on and your mind ran away from rationality into an amalgamation of pure fear and absurdity, you decided you couldn’t sit around anymore. You weren’t going to wait for Roman to call and tell you he was home safe. You were going to drive to his house and wait for him there, and if he wasn’t back in an hour, you’d go out looking for him yourself.

As you put on a pair of house slippers and a sweatshirt over your nightgown, your phone vibrated on your vanity. Your heart began to speed up in your chest as you rushed over to the table and picked up your buzzing phone. On the screen was a text alert from Roman, with only one word present:

Come.

And you didn’t need to be told twice.

When you arrived at the Godfrey’s, you fled your car so quickly you almost forget the keys in the ignition. You ran up the front steps and banged both fists on the door needing to use your excess anxiety and adrenaline for something. And while you didn’t want to face Olivia’s wrath, your judgment was clouded by the chance of seeing Roman, alive and well.

When Roman finally opened the door, you wasted no time throwing yourself into his arms. He stumbled at the impact of your embrace, but was quick to remedy his shock by wrapping his arms around you. The feeling of this made your throat constrict.

“Jesus fucking Christ I missed you.” Roman all but growled as he firmly smoothed flyaways from your hair and placed his strong hand on the back of your neck.

“You have no idea how much I missed you, Ro.” You said, voice thick with tears as you began to pepper kisses anywhere you could reach.

Neck, jaw, ear, temple, cheek, shoulder, trap, clavicle, repeat.

Roman groaned appreciatively in your ear as you covered him in your lips.

“You scared me half to death you know?” You said between kisses.

“I know, I’m sorry. Things have been… odd. I still can’t remember it all.” Roman says, his tone confused.

“Well, Olivia said-”

“I know what she said. I just don’t know if I believe it.”

You furrowed your brows and tried to wiggle in his hold, silently signaling for Roman to place you back on your feet, but he only gripped you tighter.

“Not yet. Just, stay a while.” His voice wavered.

You finally pulled back to look at him, his eyes red from tears and shadowed. Sometimes it was difficult to look at him, his beauty and pain were just too much.

“I’m staying, Roman. You couldn’t get me to leave if you wanted to.” You reply.

A wash of emotion washes over his features as his lip quivers and his eyes attempt to blink back tears. You opened your mouth to try and alleviate him of whatever he was feeling when his mouth crashed to yours.

You forgot how good his lips felt against yours as your mouths meshed together. The velvet of his tongue and the mint and smoke on his breath. His hands gripping you everywhere as he pressed you impossibly close, moaning into you with deep primal noises sounding from his chest.

“Roman, baby,” You pulled away for air and Roman promptly moved his attention to your neck and clavicle. “I need you. Take me upstairs, I can’t wait any longer.”

Roman groaned and bit you hard on the shoulder before hitching your legs higher on his hips and running you both up the winding staircase behind him.

Bruises, at the behest of his mouth and fingers, littered your body as you lay on Roman’s chest as you both still reeled in the blissful aftermath of your climaxes. Roman’s fingers idled along and spine while his unoccupied hand rested behind his head.

He had begun to tell the tale of his night, of Peter and the turn and Chasseur and his mother. He told you Peter was upstairs unconscious and that he was unsure what was going to happen when he woke.

“So, after all this, everything’s still shitty? Is that what you’re saying?” You muttered.

“Essentially. But I have hope… we’re going to figure this out. I know it.” Roman nodded, like he is reassuring himself more than you.

“Me too. You two are smart,”

“You flatter me.” Roman chuckles and looks down at you.

“Just trying to butter you up to get into your pants.” He laughs again and slaps your ass.

“Clearly it’s working.” He replies.

“Well that, and I always get what I want.” You say with a content smile.

Roman hums, “Don’t I know it.”

“You enable it.”

“Again, I know.” He kisses your forehead and you burrow closer to him.

You two lay in silence a bit longer before he sighs.

“I think we should move to sleep in the attic. Just in case something happens with Peter and he needs us.”

We. Us.

The small implication in his word choice makes you smile and once again fall under a wave of emotion, just so happy that your Roman was back to you.

You don’t know what you had done if there was no we or us with Roman any longer. But you choose to not fixate on the past.

You just nod and kiss the underside of his chin. Roman gives you a small grin and begins to get up. As you do the same, Roman throws you one of his white button downs, giving you a stern look as you raise an eyebrow in question.

“Just put it on. I got two weeks to make up for, baby. It started with reuniting, then fucking, and now you in my shirt.”

You try to hold off the wide smile that was threatening to take over your face and put on the shirt, buttoning it to just above your cleavage.

“Yeah? And what’s next?” You ask, watching Roman round the bed toward you.

“Sleep.”

Now in a pair of threadbare silk pajama pants and nothing more, Roman extends his hand to you.

“Shall we?”

“We shall.” You reply, taking his hand, weaving your fingers as he led you to the attic.

i hope you enjoyed even though it was for a different show!! and if you did, pls i’d love some feedback (:::: also let me know if you would possibly want another roman fic bc i have other ideas lol

[victoria-daydreams]

Of Vices and Virtues

Chapter Thirteen: The Ballad of Claudia Walker

AN: This is a continuation of the last chapter, so it’s still gonna be dark, but if I remember correctly this should be last chapter that’s like this.

Word Count: 5.1k

Trigger Warnings: physical/mental abuse, torture

Taglist: @azayamari

Chapter Fourteen: A Never-Ending Nightmare

"I can't do this," I breathed, before turning to Charles, shaking my head. "I can't do this," I repeated, putting my hand to my mouth as I backed away from the two men next to me. "I-I n-need to get out of here!" I exclaimed, clenching my eyes shut in an attempt to remove myself to escape the memories I've buried for so long.

I began to feel hot and dizzy. I felt like there were walls closing in on me and I had no escape.

"Calm your mind, Claudia," Charles advised gently, but I only felt the hammering of my heart in my chest intensify. "Claudia, look at me, you need to calm down. Claudia!" Charles grabbed my arms, yanking me from my own head and my eyes snapped opened. I began to hyperventilate, eyes focusing on everything and nothing as the telepath took my face in his hands and forced me to concentrate on him. "Claudia, you need to calm down or you're going to split your mind in two," he explained, his face twisting in pain. "Your mind is screaming so loud you're hurting me," Charles said through gritted teeth.

"Make it stop," I begged, searching his eyes. "Please, make it stop," I whispered, grabbing his hands and placing them at my temples.

Charles looked at me, his eyes wide and sympathetic, "Love, I've tried and nothing has worked. I push any harder and the results might be disastrous for the both of us," he explained, his hands drawing back to his own temples. "It's almost like your mind wants you to work through these unpleasant memories, because it's something that needs to be done," Charles' soft voice whispered in my ear.

"I don't want to remember," I gritted out, trying to stop the panic from rising in my chest even further. "Just make it stop," I whispered.

"It's okay," Charles coaxed. "You're going to be okay," he assured, gently grabbing both of my hands. "You just need to calm down,"

I ripped my hand out of his, focusing on something calm. What was calm?

"You don't know. You don't know what he made me do! You don't know what a sick bastard he was. I do," I breathed, my chest heaving.

Erik and Charles stared at me sympathetically and as a drop of water fell from my chin I realized why. I'd been crying. Angrily wiping my face with my hand, a frown formed on my face as the three of us were thrown into another memory. We were in a foyer of a house. I found myself turning my head from left to right multiple times, my breathing heavy and labored. Most people would love to have a house as big as this one, with the supposed openness and modern facilities that are pleasing to the eye. Yes, I can see that, but with the merciless and cruel encounters I have had here, I don't share the same opinions as the majority.

Truly, it was a nice space...one of which many would be proud of claiming ownership of, at least that of which I have actually seen. The floors were made of beautiful, stained wood and the walls painted a lovely crimson give an aristocratic aura to the house. At least, apart from the basement corridors that I know by heart. Those claustrophobic walls were a miserable gray and were accompanied by the dulled and creaky russet floor.

Two sets of footsteps echoed in the hallway moving away from us, unconsciously I began to follow behind them until I was standing on the backyard stoop. The light from the sun was shining brightly and it was almost an enchanting light. There wasn't a cloud in the sky that could block it's majestic rays. And there stood Professor Lewis and myself in the middle of his backyard.

"Claudia, I want you to use your telekinesis to lift each of the objects on the ground," Professor Lewis pointed to a tennis ball, baseball, basket ball, brick, and cinder block. The object grew larger and heavier. "Once you lift them, I want you to psychically push them into those baskets ten feet away. This will help you learn how to levitate and also toss objects of varying weight. It will also help you regulate how much power you need to lift certain weights,"

"I understand," she answered calmly, nodding her head as a smile appeared on her lips.

But she was anything but calm and enthusiastic. She was going into this kicking and screaming. She was nervous. Jumpy. Stressed. Frustrated. Lost. Found. Happy. Sad. She wanted to vomit. Her mutation was unpredictable and uncontrollable. That wasn't until a pair of hands placed themselves on her waist from behind her, almost grounding her in a way. Professor Lewis leaned down to her ear and whispered something that made the two of them laugh, and just before he released her waist Professor Lewis pressed his lips to her cheek.

"You'll do fine," he murmured.

I could feel the burning stares of Charles and Erik on the back of my head.

"He really played me like a fool," I whispered, shaking my head in disbelief at my younger self's stupidity and naivety.

"You two were together," Charles stated gently. "You were a couple," he added, his voice never taking an accusatory tone.

A humorless chuckled escaped from me, "And I have wanted to throw myself in front of a bus because of it," I confirmed, looking down at the ground biting my lip

Feelings of sickness, disgust, and shame spread throughout body as I remembered how readily I ate up his little praises. He gave me all the validation that I so desperately wanted as a child from my own parents. It wasn't long before his seemingly innocent compliments turned into something more; the lingering stares and touches to the kisses on my hand or forehead. And I foolishly allowed his affectionate gestures to escalate, thinking that I was in love with this man. So, when Professor Lewis declaration of love for me came out during a candlelit dinner I was so overcome with emotion from his "tenderness" that on the same night, I gave myself to him, willingly.

And that's when he had me ensnared, ensnared into his web of lies.

I was young and dumb and couldn't see the clear manipulation and grooming that was going on. No, I was too busy being a lovesick fool. He promised me that he would never, ever let harm come to me while I was with him, and I believed him. But everything he promised me was a dirty, filthy lie. I remembered.

I remembered every fucking thing he did to me.

"Did you love him?" Erik asked.

"Yes," I answered softly, turning around to face Charles and Erik. "But I had learnt very quickly that his love for me was all a facade," I recalled.

Just remembering that I had consensually slept with Professor Lewis made want to puke. I watched as Professor Lewis' backyard and everything around it seemingly disintegrated before us only for our surroundings to change into a small library. We were still on Professor Lewis' property, but it was a different time, a different date. If my memory serves me correctly then this is when I began to realize Professor Lewis was not the sweet, loving man I thought he was.

"You would be...in my mind?" Professor Lewis could see that she was wrestling with her own doubt and he was worried that her fear would get in the way of their training. At last, he saw Claudia nod in agreement, but her features were tightened in anxiety.

"Relax,"

Her expression was anything but calm, and he decided that it couldn't be helped. Keeping his eyes locked on hers, he pressed two fingers to his temple and pushed forward into her mind. Claudia knew the second Professor Lewis' mind merged with her own. The moment it happened, she was overwhelmed with such a sense of fear that it was difficult for her to think about anything else. She could feel him in her thoughts, and the foreign presence had such a sense of wrong to it that she gagged in disgust. It wasn't right. Her mind was her own.

"No!"

Claudia abruptly and backed away from her mentor, nearly tripping over the foot rest that sat behind her. Claudia wasn't sure whether her words were spoken aloud or inside her head, but the minute they were said she felt Professor Lewis withdraw.

"I can't do this," she couldn't meet his eyes, couldn't bear to look and see what surely would have been disappointment.

Perhaps he was angry with her for not following through. Before he had a chance to say anything to her, Claudia turned and fled from the room, not bothering to close the door behind her. But Claudia could still feel the lightest touch of Professor Lewis' emotions. And a sudden wave of anger bombarded her mind from the other side of the wall, making her gasp as one thought crossed her mind.

"There would be hell to pay for that," I stated, repeating the thought I had.

"Stand up!"

The sharp words made us all turn around, only for us to witness another memory of mine. We were standing in a small study, I watched as my twenty year-old self tried to force her body to cooperate.

She could feel the security guard's irritation before his hand came down across her cheek. She stumbled and nearly fell again, when hands caught her.

"Now, now, be nice. She's just a girl," the words were kind, but the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. It was Professor Lewis. He always had kind words for her, but his emotions didn't match up. She swallowed hard and moved away from him. The guard left them alone, like they normally did. "Now, Claudia, are you feeling better than yesterday? Will you use your powers again?" It was the question he asked every day.

She stared at him, tears swimming in her eyes, "Please, please let me go. I've done all your tests, you can keep the money. Please, just let me go!" she pleaded, tensing herself as his disappointment that barely covered rage washed over her. "Ah, Claudia, you disappoint me. What would your parents think of you, a college dropout?" he just sighed and rang his bell.

She closed her eyes as sobs wracked her body. Two security guards grabbed her roughly from the room, ignoring her squeak of pain as they gripped places where the shackles had dug into her skin and made marks.

"Take her to the lab,"Professor Lewis ordered, as she was dragged away.

I unconsciously rubbed my wrist and traced my the scars on my wrist, I turned away and stared at Erik and saw his jaw clench as Professor Lewis walked out his office, I looked over and watch Charles' horrified expression. Time seemed to speed up as if someone hit the fast-forward button. Now we were in the lab.

As my younger self came to consciousness, she barely had time to regain her senses before all she could think about was the intense, sweltering heat that slowly seemed to be eating her alive like some ravenous animal that had no control over it's appetite. Her blood boiled beneath her skin, bringing silent screams up her throat though she couldn't set them free due to the fact that her body refused to allow her control because of the drugs swimming around in her system.

Throat running dry from constricted sobs and body aching from the endless thrashing against her restraints, she laid on a metal laboratory table. Feeling the ever rising panic claw at the edge of her psyche, she made another attempt to get of the table and get out, as far away as she could, but the minuscule motion caused fire to spread in her muscles, and breathing came even harder.

Broken ribs.

Forcing herself to move, she brought a hand gently to her face, feeling dried blood there, from a gash near her hairline. Her shirt was also stiff with dried blood, caused by the blood that trickled out her nose. Moving to her abdomen, she felt the tender bruise that had been caused the last time she fought, and staring at her hands, she saw black and blue bruises mixed with dry blood.

"Well, well, look who decided to join us," an oily voice announced. "Hey Robert, the girl's awake,"

Turning her head, she saw the raven haired man known as David. Glancing at her with piercing grey eyes, he leered at her in a manner that made her feel dirty, effectively putting her on her guard, her focus sharp, despite the headache that was making her dizzy.

"Leave her alone, David," the other man named Robert commented. "Professor Lewis will kill you if you hurt her," he added, not looking up from his clipboard.

"I'm not going to hurt her," David sneered, inching closer, reaching out and touching her face. She flinched. "I just want to have some fun with her, that's all,"

"Your idea of fun won't be hers, David," the other man spat. "Go. Tell Professor Lewis she's awake," he ordered.

With a growl at being ordered around, the other male left angrily.

Our surroundings shifted again.

"So, you would abandon me, your fellow mutant, for a race that will try to destroy you?" Professor Lewis said menacingly, looking down at the girl before him. "You disappointed me again Claudia. I thought you were better, wiser. To think that I've given you everything since we met. A second home, education, training, and this is how you thank me. By disobeying me. Your parents would have been ashamed of you"

"B-Bringing up my parents doesn't work anymore, Professor Lewis," she stammered, mentally kicking herself for not being able to sound confident and strong. Every time she and Professor Lewis had an argument her voice would turn shaky, making him assume she was afraid of him.

And she was but her anger had the upper hand.

"That sounded very convincing," Professor Lewis snickered. "Claudia you care so much about humans, but have you forgotten that you have made humans beg for their death countless times?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

Claudia glared at Professor Lewis, he wore a mocking smile on his face, "You made me do that Professor. I would never have used my power in that manner if it weren't for your teaching methods," she remarked, narrowing her eyes at him.

"You wouldn't have any power if it weren't for my teaching methods, Claudia,"

"Well maybe I would have preferred it that way, Professor," she retorted.

Professor Lewis' eyes narrowed, "I think we're done for now, we'll talk again tomorrow," He turned around and walked towards a liquor cupboard to get himself some nice scotch. "I'll tell that nice gentlemen, David, to escort you to your room," the amusement was clearly audible in his voice.

He knew Claudia hated David with every fiber of her being.

I watched as the memory faded to black, just like a movie I would see at the theater. This is what all this felt like, one long movie about my life. Then everything around us turned bright as a golden dust rippled in front of us horizontally in a tidal wave fashion until they both clashed at one another, meeting at the center.

Professor Lewis and Claudia were on the rooftop of one the many university buildings, leaning against the ledge as they overlooked the rather empty campus. Night had fallen and the moon had risen above the quiet campus grounds.

Oh God, not this night. This was the night that I knew there was a darkness within me, maybe it was always there, but lying dormant, or maybe Professor Lewis planted the seeds for it to grow within me. It was one year since I'd met him and with his training I had quickly learned to control my empathy and telekinesis, and found it necessary to teach myself how to build mental shields to block out Professor Lewis if I wanted to stay sane.

"You know what today marks Claudia?" Professor Lewis asked, looking over at her.

"I do not," Claudia answered, shaking her head. "Please enlighten me," she said, as the warm night air ruffled her hair.

Professor Lewis lifted his hand and brushed stands of hair from her face, "Today, is the one year anniversary of me being the luckiest man by meeting the most lovely and powerful creature on this planet," he proclaimed, running his thumb down her cheek.

A gloom yellow light glinted over the two, so Professor Lewis could maintain eye contact with the woman in front of him. A delicate smile splayed on her lips, as her brown eyes hold onto his.

"You sure know how to make a woman feel special," she snorted, turning her body to face him.

He turned his body as well, "My methods have made you stronger have they not?" he asked, arching a brow.

"Yes," Claudia answered stiffly.

Professor Lewis grinned at her, "Then that's all that matters," he agreed, as he placed his hands on Claudia's hips pulling her closer. "As a matter of fact, why don't you show me how far you've come since being under my tutelage," he suggested, still smiling at her.

"Fine," Claudia agreed mirroring his smile. "But, only because you're cute," she added, a wicked smirk now forming on her lips.

"Atta girl," he cheered, placing a quick kiss to her lips.

Claudia smiled, and while still looking right at him, she moved her fingers. Wisps of purple aura slowly slithered upwards Professor Lewis' body and his eyes widened as he watched the energy spread all around him. Professor Lewis couldn't move. He had forced her to use this side of her mutation over and over again to make it stronger and now it was used against him.

"Claudia, what are you doing?" Professor Lewis asked, and for the first time she seen an emotion that he never expressed.

Fear.

"I'm going to do what I should have done a long time ago," she answered, lifting her hand up and drifting Professor Lewis from the safety of the rooftop to dangling him over the ledge of the building.

"Please dear, let's be reasonable," Professor Lewis pleaded, sounding slightly shaky.

"No," Claudia answered simply, her smirk only widened as she read his emotions like an open book, confusion, fear, desperation. "You never offered me the same courtesy," she reminded, a humorless chuckle escaping her body.

"You kill me then what Claudia? You were nothing without me! You were nothing but a scared girl!" he snarled.

"I think I will manage without you just fine," She assured, flashing him a faux smile. "It's like said you earlier, under your tutelage I have grown stronger," she repeated mockingly, before releasing her hold on him.

I watched as Professor Lewis dropped from our sights. There was an abrupt scream of terror from Professor Lewis before it was cut off as his body hit the ground with a sickening thud. My younger self causally strolled to the ledge and peered and we followed behind her. The sight was a grim a one.

Professor Lewis was surrounded in a puddle of his own blood, his limbs bent in unnatural ways.

"My God," Charles commented, his face ashen.

Laughter bubbled out of my younger self, and we turned to look at her, her shoulders shook with laughter.

"Goodbye Harry," Claudia said coldly and she walked away.

Turning her back against her teacher and her fellow mutant.

An earsplitting scream of horror reverberated the air, but not once did that seem to bother her, she continued walking and with a flip of her hair she slipped back into the building.

"I've never felt so exposed except with my time with Professor Lewis. What will they think of me now? Will they think I'm a monster? Will they-" I thought, and my breath quickened.

The world around us becomes clear once more and we're back in the library I collapsed, hyperventilating, gasping for air. I turned to my friends and I can't tell if their faces are those of pity or disgust. I pulled myself up, stumbling everywhere, and run as fast as I can away from them.

~~~x~~~

I could sense from Charles' emotions that he had approached my closed door, and waited outside for several minutes, until he tapped softly on the door, calling out gently.

"Claudia, are you in there? It's Charles,"

When he was met with no response, I could hear Charles tightened his grip on the doorknob.

"Claudia, I'm going to come in now. If you wish to be alone, please indicate so and I will leave immediately," Charles' statement was met with nothing but silence once again, so he turned the handle of the door, opening it slowly.

When the door had been opened, my back was facing him as I stared out the window blankly, tears flowing freely down my face. Charles stood in the entryway, before closing the door behind him. Stepping forward uncertainly and receiving no reaction at all from me, Charles walked across the room towards window I was facing, covering the area in several long strides. He knelt on his knees next to the bed so that he was looking directly at me.

I could tell Charles was unsure of what to say, so I broke the silence first, "You know I got away with the murders?" I asked raspily, finally looking at Charles.

Charles' furrowed his brow, "What?" he asked bewildered.

"Confusion is a funny thing, especially if you have the power to manipulate it. John was so very confused, he didn't know I was a mutant. So I exploited his confusion and I convinced John that it was a murder-suicide, James was friends with those boys at one point, but stopped hanging out with them once he met me. I told John that's the reason they killed him, and then I lied about one of the boys being the ‘freak’ and that he killed the trio out of bloodlust after killing James, shortly killing himself out of guilt," I explained, scooting over and patting the bed so Charles could sit on my bed.

Charles stood up and gently sat on my bed and reached out, softly wiping the tear streaks from my face with the pad of his thumb.

"Claudia, love, I'm so sorry-I-" Charles started.

"You didn't know?" I finished, raising my eyebrow expectantly. "Well, now you why I don't like people in my head," I stated, letting out a sigh. "I can't begin to describe to you the horror that comes with knowing that your mind isn't as safe as you think it is," I commented, briefly closing my eyes.

"I just never would have guessed these things happened to you, when we first met, you were so carefree," Charles explained, his hand now moving to my hair and stroking it.

"What did you want Charles? A big flashing sign, saying 'I've had a traumatizing life'," I retorted, tilting my head slightly. "Charles, there aren't many people who care about the plight of a colored woman in America, what makes you think they would sympathize with a black woman who's also a mutant?" I questioned, dropping my gaze to my hand. "I swallowed a bitter pill by coming to the realization that no one will truly care about me," I finished, looking back up at Charles.

"You're wrong," he corrected, he spoke gently, never breaking his gaze away from mine. "I care about you, and so does everyone in the mansion," Charles insisted.

He started rubbing soothing patterns on the back my hand with his thumb, Charles lifted my hand to his lips and kissed my knuckles just as someone knocked twice before entering. The now familiar undercurrent of anger told me it was Erik. But I didn't want to move my hand from Charles', the warmth, the comfort, and affection wrapping themselves around me were too blissful to bring to an end. I turned my head to look at Erik, slipping my hand from Charles', I shifted from me laying on my side to pushing myself up to leaning the headboard.

"Are you alright?" Erik asked gently.

"I've been better," I answered, as Erik took a seat at the foot of my bed. It was silence between the three of us and I stared down at my hands, suppressing the urge to raise a hand to my lips and bite my thumb. "It's like you said Charles..." I stated, trailing off and the two of them looked at each other confusion.

"What?" Charles asked confused.

"The night you two recruited me," I began, looking between the two men. "You said, 'There is danger within me,'" I recited, looking at Charles and his eyes widened.

"Claudia I-" he started.

"I'm not mad Charles," I interrupted, shaking my head. "You're right. I've hurt people," I admitted, my mouth forming a thin line.

"We understand," Charles assured me, his kind eyes staring into mine.

My lips quirked into a small smile before I cleared my throat, "There is something that I should tell you two," I stated.

"And what would that be?" Erik asked curiously.

"When I killed those boys when I was younger, I should've been upset, but it was cathartic. I enjoyed it," I answered truthfully, my eyes shifting between them to gauge their reactions.

"They had just murdered your boyfriend in front of you, it's understandable Claudia," Erik justified.

"No, Erik, a normal person would swear to never use their powers in such a way again. But not me, I rather liked the idea of being able to control people. And when Professor Lewis-" I started.

"When he abducted you?" Erik asked motionlessly, cutting me off. "He used you, tortured you?"

"No Erik, I agreed to go with him. And that's a mistake I will always regret. He was one of us," I explained softly. "I thought I could trust him," I added, shaking my head.

"He was a telepath, like me," Charles stated looking over at me.

My voice and body and emotions becoming detached as I nodded, "He took it slow, got me to trust him, to love him. That's when he started the tests on my abilities. His favorite way was through illusions. In one instance, I was trapped in one of his illusions, thinking I was having the best night of my life with some handsome stranger after escaping from him, when I was really kissing one his lab assistants. The only reason the illusion, broke was because of the lab assistant lied, and I know when someone is lying to me. He strengthened my powers," I paused, taking a deep breath to compose myself. "It was brilliant, really," I finished, shaking my head side to side.

"It was a vile, manipulative, twisted, sick endeavor!" Erik spat. "He turned on his own kind!"

"His own kind," I repeated bitterly. "No. He wasn't one of us. A mutant, yes. But not one of us," I forced a smile, nudging him with my foot. "We're the good guys, Erik. Like Captain America, but cooler," I quipped.

Erik rolled his eyes, looking at me with a sort of spark I had never seen before.

"I have to ask," Charles started, breaking my concentration from Erik. "Was there ever an investigation?" Charles asked.

"Yes, it was a brief one, but it was ruled a suicide," I explained, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. "I hope you two don't think I'm a monster now," I sighed.

"Of course not," Charles stated sincerely, grabbing my hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

There was a knock at my door before it opened revealing Raven's petite figure. She looked at the two men who were sitting on my bed, and I felt a wave jealousy wash over me, which confused me.

"If you're not occupied, Charles, can we talk in private?" Raven asked, I didn't miss the emphasis on the word occupied.

"I wonder what's gotten into her now?" I thought.

Charles slowly let go of my hand, "Of course, Raven. We were just finishing our conversation," he answered, as he stood up and walked across the room to reach Raven. "Good night Claudia," Charles said, a smile on his lips.

"Night Charles," I responded, and Raven and Charles left my room.

It was just Erik and I now, "Now you know where the crack is in my perfect exterior, Erik," I stated,

Erik climbed further onto my bed till he was sitting next to me and gazed at me, "That's one enormous crack," Erik replied, repeating the same words I said to him. "But it only made you stronger," he continued, lifting his finger and gently trailing it down my cheek, the gesture sent shivers down my spine and goosebumps raised on my arms.

My eyes went straight for his inner forearm and the figures that had been inked into his skin, 214782. Numbers that had reduced an entire people into nothing but cattle. But markings. It was disturbing, and my hand reached out to touch his flesh in an attempt to stop my mind from racing. My fingers brushed his skin and he immediately grabbed my hand, his long, elegant fingers enclosing mine.

"Does it ever go away?" I asked somewhat rhetorically, motioning to his reaction.

Erik didn't answer.

"The pain, the distrust, the memories- I guess it never does, does it? Maybe it gets easier," I continued, pondering morosely. "Maybe it's the prospect of revenge that makes it so," I turned to him, motioning my head to the numbers engraved upon his skin. "Does it still hurt?" I asked softly, leaning my head on his shoulder.

"Every fucking day," Erik uttered, looking at the numbers and then shifting his gaze on me.

"Our resilience through all the pain we've been through, it's amazing we survived..." I trailed off, rubbing my thumb softly across his knuckles and then looked up at Erik. "Most people wouldn't have been able to,"

Erik smiled at me brilliantly, "Well, we aren't most people are we?" Erik questioned. "We're the future of the human race, Claudia," Erik finished, lifted our entwined hands and placed his lips on my knuckles leaving a lingering kiss.

I lifted my head from his shoulder and gently placed a kiss on Erik's stubble covered cheek, "Thank you, Erik, for being here tonight,"

Chapter Fifteen: A Love Supreme

[onlydreamofmysoul]

Let Them Eat Cake (Part iv)

Tonight, on The Great British Bake Off;

“This is thick as hell.”

Will our bakers melt, or melt down? Only time will tell - it’s chocolate week in the tent!

“I quite like your mouth.”

Remus stared at himself in the mirror. His mouth wasn’t that bad to be fair, but it was nothing next to Sirius’ own. I quite like your mouth, I quite like your mouth, I quite like -

“Remus? You ready?”

Remus shook himself. It was time to put all of this out of his head. “Yeah,” He called to Lily. “I’m coming.”

He left thoughts of Sirius in the hotel.

“This week,” Sirius announced, (looking ridiculously good in those skinny jeans Remus noticed), “Is possibly the best week.”

“Not being in any way subjective now, are you?” James quipped.

“Oi, you can’t say anything, last night you sang me a ballad about this week just last night.”

“Ah yes you’re right, I’ll sing it for everyone, shall I?” James took a deep breath, but before he could get the first note out, Sirius had covered his mouth.

“It’s chocolate week!” Sirius interrupted quickly, succeeding in making everyone laugh as usual. For our lovely first challenge, our judges would like you to make brownies.”

Remus already knew this of course, but he couldn’t help but sneak a little smile to Lily. They were practising all week, Lily even surprised Remus with a batch of gluten free when she had still been experimenting with her flavours. Salted caramel was sacred to Remus now.

Remus heard Sirius and James say the rules in the background, but he had tuned out a little. It was hard to stop his mind from wandering to Sirius when the man in question was standing right in front of him. His hair was in a top knot today. Fuck if Remus didn’t love his hair like that, Throughout the day, it would loosen a little and strands would fall in front of Sirius’ face and Remus would imagine what they would look like wrapped around his fingers-

Remus blinked. Not here. Now it was time to focus. Chocolate week would be his week.

“Ready?”

“Set.”

“Bake!”

Remus grabbed his ingredients and set to work.

Chocolate week was not his week.

Nothing was going quite to plan. He had burned the chocolate after leaving it in the bain marie a little too long - not so much that it required to be redone, but enough that Remus was annoyed at himself. He had misread his scales and added a little too much four and to top it off, he was pretty sure he had over-baked them.

“What are you making for us today?” The judges had asked when they had made their usual rounds at the start of the day. Remus had been calm and confident then. 

“Classic chocolate, just with walnuts added in.”

“Chopped, I assume?” Dumbledore said and Remus forced a smile on his face instead of rolling his eyes. 

“Of course.”

“I look forward to trying them.” McGonagall had said and then they had whisked themselves away, vanishing behind Remus to ask Lily some inane questions.

(Remus really didn’t mind the questions. He actually loved them - he had looked up to both judges all his life. Today was just, not his day).

Sirius turned up at his side, nabbing a spare square of chocolate and popping it into his mouth. Remus certainly didn’t think about chasing it with his lips. Nope, not at all.

“Hey Re.” Sirius greeted, as if the casual nickname didn’t just make Remus’ heart stutter. As if he hadn’t been flirting with Remus in this very spot not a week ago.

Remus hadn’t seen Sirius much since then which was pretty odd. The entire cast and crew mingled together on the non filming days and Sirius and James were infamous for showing up in the practice tent to try the bakers latest experiments. Only James had shown his face this week though. Remus hadn’t missed the way he always seemed to know when Lily was practicing, but that was another thing altogether.

He glanced up from where he was carefully piping chocolate designs on parchment paper to decorate the cakes when they were cool. “Hi.”

Sirius pulled out two mugs, ignoring Remus’ raised eyebrow and clicked the kettle. “Tea?”

“You’re taking over my work bench, are you?”

Sirius took his usual perch up on the counter as the tea brewed. “And what of it?”

Remus looked back down at what he was doing. He didn’t answer for a moment or two as he focused on a particularly intricate design, very aware of the way he stuck out his tongue when he was concentrating. “Haven’t seen much of you this week.”

Sirius hopped down to put milk and sugar in Remus’ mug, looking at Remus like he was a little mad. “I looked for you, but you’re a difficult man to pin down Remus Lupin.”

Remus felt his face flush as his mind flicked to how exactly he’s like to be pinned down by Sirius Black, but he swallowed weakly instead. “I was practicing mostly.”

Sirius nodded. “I know. I was there a few times but you were always absorbed in work for the showstopper so I didn’t want to bother you.”

Remus was relieved when his oven timer went off and he had an excuse to move away from Sirius for a moment. 

“You wouldn’t have bothered me.” He said as soon as he had transferred the contents of his tin onto a wire rack.”

Sirius opened his mouth to respond, but just then a microphone appeared over their heads, a cameraman right behind it.

“Feeling good about today?” Sirius asked pleasantly as if their previous conversation had never even existed. Remus’ smile felt tight. 

“I have absolutely no idea.” He breathed. He wasn’t just talking about the cakes.

Remus pursed his lips when he realised he was being judged last today. It wasn’t so bad, Remus just liked to get it over with as soon as possible. He was only partially satisfied with his brownies, but there was a lot more that could have gone wrong so Remus chose to try to maintain a slightly positive attitude. 

Peter’s brownies were a smash hit, Tonks’ didn’t look the neatest but apparently tasted fantastic. Lily’s blew them away. Remus didn’t hide his grin - he was just glad he had technically been the first to taste her recipe.

“They’re quite cake-like.” McGonagall commented, coming to a stop in front of Remus’ bench. Remus didn’t say anything, just pursed his lips.

“Flavours are good, the walnuts add a nice crunch.” Dumbledore said, munching away. “But one of the main features of brownies is that they’re soft, fudgey, even a little gooey.”

Dumbledore met Remus’ eyes. “These are good cakes, but the key word is they’re cakes, not brownies.”

Remus nodded, his jaw clenching. He closed his eyes in annoyance when they finally turned away. He knew he had over baked them. Fucking Sirius Black.

(Okay so Sirius wasn’t actually the cause of this particular problem but… Remus was a sucker for consistency).

He collapsed in a chair for lunch feeling the tension bleeding out of his muscles.

“Hey Re.” Tonks chuckled and Remus just cracked one eye open to peek at her.

For once, he was the last to the table, even James and Sirius seated before him. He sat up and dug into his pasta, unable to stop himself from actually groaning when he ate it.

“Sorry but, it’s so good. Also I’m really hungry so that helps, but wow I’m going to need this recipe.”

He didn’t miss the way Sirius eyed him the rest of the way through lunch, or the smug little looks coming from Lily either. So maybe Remus had been a little blind to how Sirius had been looking at him before, but this week he was finally wide awake.

He took a moment to pop onto Bake Off Twitter to see what they were saying this week. There were even more gifs of him blushing, Sirius looking at him and one really great picture of the two of them laughing. There were other things too of course, the other contestants' opinions on last week's episode but Remus couldn’t help but notice he was one of the most popular topics.

His mindless scrolling was interrupted by his phone buzzing.

“Ooh, someone’s popular!” James teased and Remus rolled his eyes.

“Hi Ma,” He greeted, looking pointedly at James and sticking out his tongue.

“Hi sweetheart, how’s it going.?”

Remus began to move away so everyone else could continue their conversation but Lily swatted his wrist.

“I wanna say hi to Hope!”

“Yeah Remus! Don’t be rude!” Tonks chimed in and Remus rolled his eyes. 

“Mam, I’m gonna put you on speaker, the lads want to say hi.” He said, pulling the phone away from his ear.

“Hi Hope!” Lily said, everyone else joining in, a clamour of voices drowning out Remus’ laugh.

“Hi loves!” Hope said, Remus knowing she was having the time of her life. These people were like celebrities to her. “How’re you all doing?”

“Much better now that we get to chat to you.” Sirius charmed and Remus could practically see his mother blushing back in their kitchen at home. They all chatted for a little while longer before they had to get back to work.

“Hey mam, we’ve gotta go, but I’ll call you later, yeah?”

“Alright darling, I’ll chat to you soon. Good luck.”

“Bye mam, love you.”

Remus hung up biting his lip. “So that was my mom.”

“Really, you don’t say.” Tonks quipped.

“She’s my new best friend.” Lily sighed wistfully, sinking back into her chair.

“What does that make me?2 Remus asked. “A brick wall?”

Lily quirked an eyebrow. “I thought we were meant to be friends Re, but now I see we were just introduced so that I could get to know your mother. She was my destiny all along.”

“That’s not at all dramatic.” Remus deadpanned and they all started to move, getting up and ready for the next round of filming.

Sirius had been giving him a strange look towards the end of the phone call but when Remus met his eyes, he blinked once and it was gone. Remus wandered back into the tent with Lily and Tonks, debating if Tonks should dye her hair again (Pink: outdated or iconic?) but the only colour Remus could think about was grey.

“For this challenge,” James said as soon as the cameras had recommenced recording, “Our judges have asked you to make a white chocolate and raspberry tart.”

“Everything you need is under the cloth in front of you,” Sirius continued. “Judges, do you have anything you’d like to say?”

“Read the instructions carefully.” McGonagall said, her face blank. Remus blinked.

“Well, they never would have guessed that!” Sirius said cheekily and Remus had to bite down his laugh.

“On your marks,”

“Get set,”

“Bake!”

Remus pulled back the gingham cloth, eyeing the fewer-than-usual set of ingredients. He picked up the sheet with instructions, found it vague as usual but it didn’t seem overly complicated.

“Am I allowed to say white chocolate isn’t real chocolate?” Sirius asked, gliding up to Remus’ bench, cameras in tow.

“I was wondering how long it would be before someone started that debate!” Lily chimed in. “We had a bet going, I won so thanks for that.”

Remus looked at Sirius accusingly. “You couldn't have waited ten more minutes?”

Sirius laughed to himself as he wandered away to talk to everyone and Remus set to work. They wanted a digestive base, so after weighing out the right amount, Remus grabbed a rolling pin and set to work smashing the biscuits.

“You know, you could just use a blender.” Lily called over the thrum of her own machine. Remus made a face at her.

“Yeah, but this is way more cathartic.” He countered.

“Got some tension you need to relieve?” Tonks teased and Remus was suddenly really glad Sirius was on the other side of the tent.

He put his most innocent smile on his face, looked her right in the eyes and flipped her off. Lily and Tonks burst into a laughing fit. Marlene just sighed and looked at Remus a little hopelessly.

“One of these days Remus, I won’t have to edit every shot you’re in.”

Remus just shot her a cheeky wink. “Keep dreaming Marlene.”

Remus scrunched up his nose as he tried to pour the chocolate into the tin. He had placed the raspberries so that they covered the base of the pastry and now all he had to do was add the chocolate and pop it all in the fridge to set. But the chocolate mixture was a lot thicker than he had anticipated. 

“Fuck…” He breathed, drawing out the word as he tried to even it out with a spatula, only succeeding in moving the berries around and messing up the distribution.

“You alright?” Lily asked.

Remus glanced back, shooting her a smile. “Yeah, I’m okay. This is just thick as hell.”

“White chocolate’s a bitch like that.” Lily agreed.

“Seriously?” Marlene exclaimed. “Now you too Lily? I’m firing both of you.”

Remus laughed and handed her a spare piece of chocolate. “Sorry Marlene.”

Marlene rolled her eyes but smiled. “I hate you.”

Remus blew her a kiss. “Love you too!”

He bit his lip and evened out the top of his tart before putting it into the fridge so it had as long as possible to set.

“And now we wait.”

They set their tarts behind their pictures, Peter being ridiculously cautious, looking around himself before he made any movements. Remus appreciated it, but found it hilarious all the same.

 He sat on the stool as the judges came out with a familiarity that was new. He liked it. He had watched the show for as long as it had been on air, watching it gave him the same feeling you might get when curling up under a blanket and a good book when it’s pouring rain outside. He liked being comfortable on the show now too.

The judges came out, Remus’ tart right in the centre of the table. 

“This one looks quite good,” McGonagall said as she cut a slice, “But there doesn’t seem to be as many raspberries as I would have hoped.”

Remus bit his lip. She had snagged a slice from a section all the berries had been disrupted. Fucking white chocolate.

“Everything else however, is lovely.” Dumbledore said and Remus breathed easy, it wasn’t the worst one, not by far. A tart belonging to a woman named Susan hadn’t even set properly. Remus wouldn’t be surprised if she ended up going home tomorrow, she had certainly lost the technical and from what Remus remembered, she hadn’t done too well in the first challenge either.

Kingsley won the technical, smiling at everyone congratulating him. Remus liked Kingsley a lot, the other man was quiet, so he didn’t know him too well but any interaction they’d had was always pleasant.

The camera’s stopped rolling and everyone filed over to the table to grab themselves a slice of the best tarts. Remus noticed Sirius hanging back for once, so he sidled up next to him.

“Not a fan?” He asked. Sirius shook his head.

“Nah, white chocolate is much too sweet for me.”

“Right,” Remus said, tilting his head. “You don’t even take sugar in your tea.”

Sirius bit his lip and took his time replying. “There’s only so many sweet things I can handle,” He said, leaning in closer to Remus, who mirrored his movements on instinct. “And you fill that quota completely.”

Remus stood there frozen as Sirius smiled at him before leaving the tent. Lily came up next to him, a plate in hand.

“Why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?”

“Oh it’s so much worse than that.”

“What happened?” She asked, concerned. 

“Sirius Black is flirting with me.” He half whispered. “And I’m so completely and utterly fucked.”

Lily smirked and bumped her hip against Remus’. “More like you will be completely and utterly fucked.”

“Lily!”

The noise escaping Lily in response could only be described as a cackle. Remus lay awake half the night replaying Sirius’ words over and over in his head. He was so screwed.

“Welcome back!” James began, “It’s time for our showstopper challenge!”

“This week,” Sirius said, “Our judges want you to create a 3D chocolate structure.”

Remus bit his lip. He had practiced. A lot. But this would still be a challenge.

“Your creation should be entirely edible and entirely chocolate. As usual, you have four and a half hours. Ready?”

“Set.”

“Bake!”

Remus set off, faster than he had for the last few challenges. He could do this, but he needed time. He immediately set out breaking up chocolate to melt, two rectangular silicone moulds ready to go. He poured an equal amount of milk chocolate into each and made sure they were spread evenly before putting them in the fridge.

“Damn Re, that was fast.” Lily commented, still filling her mould.

“That’s not what he said.” Remus retorted with a wink and Lily snorted behind him.

Remus kept melting chocolate, white was next on his agenda. When it was melted, he added a couple of drops of orange essence and mixed it in. He spread it quite thinly over two large trays, wishing it had been this co-operative in the previous challenge, and put them in the fridge too.

“Hey,” Sirius said softly, arriving at his station. Remus broke off a piece of dark chocolate and offered it out to him.

“This is your favourite type I’m guessing?”

Sirius blushed. It was fun to see Remus wasn’t the only one who could do that. 

“Yeah,” He said, his voice low. “Yeah it is, thanks.”

Remus took out a clean bowl and started breaking pieces of dark chocolate into it. “Everything okay?”

Sirius frowned. “Does something have to be wrong for me to be here?”

Remus shook his head quickly. “No! I mean, no. I just meant…” He glanced around the room and saw no microphone close enough to capture their conversation but cameras were panning the room. He kept his eyes on his work and his voice hushed. “Well, you know what I meant.”

“Yeah,” Sirius fiddled with a tea towel he found on Remus’ counter. “Can we talk? Later?”

Remus nodded. “I’d like that.”

Sirius smiled at him and moved away, walking around to the rest of the room. Remus took a shaky breath. He would talk to Sirius later. He straightened his shoulders and set his jaw, he would be calm about this. He could obsess about it later. Right now? He had a big ass chocolate sculpture to make.

“Bakers, you have thirty minutes left!” James announced a while later and Remus shared a mildly panicked look with Lily. He took his many many trays of chocolate out of the fridge and set to work assembling his piece. He measured the white chocolate and cut precise, identical rectangles, biting his lip as he prayed the chocolate wouldn’t snap. It would appear luck was on his side today because it all cut cleanly. He sighed in relief and set up the flat stand it would be displayed on. He filled his piping bag with dark chocolate and unfolded the page of notes he had brought in with him that day and began writing on the white chocolate slabs.

“Bakers! Please step away from your benches!”

Remus fiddled with his hands as he stepped away, looking at his creation. It was… It was fucking perfect is what it was.

Lily presented first, a gorgeous goldfish made of chocolate and sprayed with edible paint. Lily had even carved the scales into the surface, Remus was blown away by the amount of detail in it.

Tonks had made a little castle - two towers and a main building, it was ridiculously charming, Remus wished he could live there. 

Remus walked up with his and stood back so he could look at it too. It was a book - Pride and Prejudice to be exact, standing up and cracked a little open so some pages were on display. Pages on which Remus had written the exact text from the book, the cover based off the hardback edition Remus had at home.

“I must say Mr Lupin,” McGonagall said, “As a big Jane Austen fan, I’m quite charmed by this.”

She broke away a ‘page’ and popped a piece in her mouth. “The orange flavouring is a lovely touch.”

Dumbledore broke off a piece from the back cover and nodded in agreement. “Very good, I’m quite impressed.”

Remus beamed at them and returned to his bench. He was so unbelievably glad they liked it, if they hadn’t well, he might have actually cried.

Sirius caught his eye and smiled at him. Remus smiled back.

They sat in a row once more a little while later, but Remus wasn’t afraid. He hadn’t done as well as he might have liked yesterday, but he still wasn’t bad. And he had done quite well today. He was pretty sure he was safe for today. 

As he suspected, Susan went home. Tonks won star baker and Remus had the rare opportunity of getting to try the other baker’s work since it was all made purely of chocolate.

“Take a walk with me?” Sirius asked after a little while, the euphoria of another week done fading and the remaining contestants beginning to trickle back to the hotel. Remus nodded and sent Lily a quick text and then he followed Sirius out of the tent and away from the cameras and microphones and contestants.

And then it was just the two of them.

[rotzaprachim]

For the 3-sentence: I'd love to see Nile and another member of the Old Guard discussing some form of pop culture. (Unrelated but I feel like Joe would go really hard for Star Wars while simultaneously calling all other sci-fi nerdy and bad.)

thank you so much for this prompt! doesn’t have too much.. discussion as i always seem to lean more toward exposition i guess! (AND yes i agree strongly about Joe and star wars. he has Strong Opinions about every star wars film!) hope you enjoy

essential listening (768 words, G, AO3 here)

(And a link to every single song/artist mentioned on spotify here- it’s 1hr 46 minutes instead of 9 but u can just look through) 

Joe wanted to do a cassette, but Nile talked him into a Spotify playlist, and by the time they’ve compiled the bare essentials in the last three hundred years of music, shuffled into a vaguely chronological order, the playlist stretches into the six hour mark. Wild how what was once pop culture can become, if canonised, a classic worthy of academic attention, Nile thinks as she slots in Frank Ocean after Fairuz and Fabrizio De André, wonders how the music of her own time will go down the years- although there’s long been a power attached, even in the long term, to whiteness, maleness. Put a white face on the record cover and that’s the version that hits the top one-hundred. It’s the original version of Universal Soldier by Buffy Sainte-Marie Nile adds to the list, rather than the one most people seem to know, the cover by Donovan. Odetta’s God’s Gonna Cut You Down over Cash’s.

Joe has his own opinions, additions, Souad Massi and Donna Summer and Bruce Springsteen and the Star Wars opening theme which, Nile argues back, is pointless without the context of Star Wars itself, which when they’ve tried to explain it to Quỳnh has caused more confusion than the actual moon landings or satellite TV. But how much music exists without the context of its time? Nile flicks through the list. Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the lord. It ain’t me, it ain’t me, I aint no senator’s son. Una mattina, mi son svegliato, e ho trovato l’invasor. We shall overcome. Go tell the rambler, the gambler, the backbiter, tell ‘em the almighty’s gonna cut ‘em down.

Nile looks to where Quỳnh’s wiping down her set of 11th century Damascene watered steel knives with nail polish remover while she dedicatedly watches the tv, eyes swallowing news, history, turns of phrase and culture. It feels presumptuous and strange, in a way, to be doing this, three hundred years to a woman who’s seen five thousand, has known and forgotten more ballads and lullabies and folk songs than Spotify has on its server. Music is language is context, and how could she, even Joe and Nicky, ever even vaguely understand the worlds that wrote those songs? Quỳnh, like Andy, came millenia before "quel Nazzareno," before "the man from Galilee," although Nile’s never asked either of them about it, not sure if she really wants the answers.

“Calice, Chico Buarque and Milton Nascimento.” Nicky says when he returns, and she adds it, a song with context if there ever was one. “Cancion por el Fusil y la Flor. Mercedes Sosa.” He hands her breakfast, a salteña and a cup of hot, sweet coffee, and organises away his other findings with a military efficiency: medical gauze, unmarked magazines, a fresh pair of cheap-ass plastic sunglasses for Joe. Nicky calls out other suggestions. Má vlast. Sinnerman. Arturo Márquez - Danzón No. 2. Goran Bregović. They never take any songs off the playlist, only add others on. Seven hours, eight. “Essential” means something different to everyone on earth. “Exactly how much Sanremo did Joe suggest be put on there? Oh, and add the Star Trek theme.”

Andy returns from scouting while Joe’s replacing the lisence plate on the car. Nile downloads the whole thing onto a freshly air-gapped phone. She needs to stop ribbing on Joe’s old-man cassette-and-tape-deck ways, or Nicky’s even-older-man preference for vinyls- at least those don’t come with the threat of a digital footprint, the chance of being caught over some road trip jams. Joe packs everything into the trunk of the car while Nile checks the route and writes down the key highways and intersections onto a napkin. Maybe it’s a universal in all families, even immortal ones, that the youngest person gets to be the navigator when digital maps are involved. She gets to ride shotgun, at least, climb in in front next to Nicky. He’s absentmindedly tapping out a melody on the steering wheel. She doesn’t recognise it.

“My education begins,” Quỳnh says from the back. She always has a glint of humour in her eyes, a joke- Nile can never quite tell when she’s being sardonic or serious. Nicky pulls away from the curb. Nile queues up the playlist. Hadyn’s Cello Concerto in C. And then the Star Wars Cantina Band song. Maybe she didn’t do quite as good a job at organising things as she thought she did. Nine hours, final cut- long enough to make it over the border to Peru, at least, allowing for some pauses for periodic arguing over directions, getting lost, and roadside snacking.

“Yeah.” Nile presses play. “Let’s get started.”

[akvtsuki-ari]

Downers

Warnings: smut, fingering, penetration, oral (both recieving),(( reader swallows lol)), alchohol 

Length: 4.7k 

Authors Note: idk how to explain the context of this fic kjshjek but before you read i highly reccomend listening to the song this fic is based on!! normally it doesn’ matter either way but it’s directly apart of the fic!! the song is Downers by Greentea Peng 

Summary: Spencer comes back from a one-night stand with insomnia he can’t shake. The hotel bar is welcome company, and the singer there seems to catch all his attention

Spencer couldn't remember her name.

Here he was in her hotel room, mouth on her neck, hands on her skin - whispering to her how beautiful she was and he just couldn't remember her name. He doesn't even know if he asked - he can't remember that much of their interactions since there interaction in the bar. Her dress was pretty, so Spencer went up to her. She was alone - she needed the company, her and her boyfriend were taking a break he thinks. She told him that she liked his tie, and his hair and he smiled and dazzled her, made a stupid magic joke and manage to get her back here

Spencer was good at this now, he knew how to get here everytime. It wasn't difficult after you get the hang of it. It was profiling after all, something he realized when this all started so many months ago. It's funny to try and recall a time before this - Spencer was always the butt of the joke because he used to tell himself he couldn't do one night stands. He wasn't wrong, either - at first he would just get too attached but things stopped mattering. Slowly but surely all the pieces fell away and he just started needing easy company, shed his skin of his job and make sure he made someone else feel good.

He was never really hedonistic but he figures things change right? When he fucks another girl whose name he doesn't remember, he's not keeping score - just trying to focus on making her feel good and the way it feels when he orgasms. He's chasing that feeling of high - even if it's temporary it makes him feel something and that's enough. Life is about more than chasing pleasure in the long run but this was now, and the feeling of the girl whose name he can't remember wrapping her mouth along the tip of his dick was enough. For now this feeling was enough, bucking his hips into her throat and making sure she gets off. He was an asshole but he wasn't a selfish one.

"Shit, I'm gonna cum," She annouces. Spencer nods in approval, pressing his forehead against hers as she finishes. She moans Spencers name aloud and Spencer wants to ignore it but he can't. Spencer cums soon after that, pulling out of the unnamed women beneath him

"Jesus," she breathes out heavy. Spencer laughs before looking at her.

"I'm gonna go take a shower," she says to him softly, "feel free to join me," she winks. Spencer just gives her a smile as she slinks away into the bathroom.

Spencer knew the drill. He didn't leave a note, he didn't ask her name because he wasn't planning on seeing her again. He sits a few minutes, redressing quietly and leaving quieter. He used to flinch when he shut the door but the hotel hallway was familiar to him now. Making eye contact with cleaning women and janitors who gave him what felt like knowing stares. Spencer was used to it, all of it - even if it was difficult.

Spencer doesn't feel like a slut. He probably should, but he doesn't really feel anything. He's doing the walk of shame, leaving her hotel room in the middle of the night and he just sorta.. doesn't care.

He wishes he did, but there's no time for that now. He checks the watch on his wrist, the time reading 1am and as if on cue, he yawns. His eyes are sleepy and he's rather exhausted, and he finds himself heading back to his own hotel in a tired daze

__

When Spencer returns to his hotel - he really can't sleep. He tries, laid in bed, tossing and turning for hours but it wasn't coming to him. They were supposed to be leaving the day after tomorrow, closed in by the weather that wouldn't let the jet take off so he was stuck there. He wanted nothing more than to get some rest, but it was fruitless. Spencer looks over at the pamphlet he picked up from downstairs - looking at all the different things that the hotel had going on. It says there's a live, late-night singer at the bar in the hotel. Y/N Y/L/N. He sighs, rubbing his face with his hands before standing up and putting back on his normal clothes. A live show and a drink might not be so bad, and maybe there's something (or really someone,) for Spencer to do.

He walks down at 3am, it'd only been an hour since he got back and it was still dark out. Everything was still as he walked into the hallway and elevator. every sound felt louder and more distinct. There wasn't a soul out there other than staff who was forced to work earlier shifts and other people doing the same walk of shame he was doing earlier. He can't bring himself to look at them, but Spencer was certainly understanding of them.

He manages to make it to the hotel bar, which was surprisingly nice - he has to admit. Lowlights and candelabras all over the place add to the ambiance, the ceiling mirrored as he looks to all the patrons in the bar. Mostly older men, drinking whiskey alone as typical as it was. There were some women that caught his eyes, but he's not ready to tango with someone like that so he orders a drink at the bar. He likes scotch on the rocks, but he's not really one to drink it often. One can't hurt, he doesn't think. The odd sense of isolation while being in a public place and the alcohol in his system might make him more tired faster. He doesn't want another one-night stand but that loneliness hits quickly, and his original plans may fall through.

He waits it out, sitting down at a chair near the small platform that served as a stage. He watches as on older gentleman picks the mic up, announcing that name he read earlier. Y/N Y/L/N.

He sees a woman walk up onto the stage, so beautiful he coughs on his scotch. A man across the ways looks to Spencer and laughs, nodding in understanding.

"Wait till you hear her voice," He says quietly. Spencer just nods, eyes fixated on the way you move. You look classic, hair let loose wearing a sequin dress. You weren't too flashy, but you definitely managed to catch everyone's attention. You had a jaded expression, eyes flashing up to the crowd softly. You look directly towards Spencer and give him a knowing smile. He was new, you'd never seen him here before.

"How's everyone doing tonight, hm? Can't be too well if you're here seeing me at 4am, but still good I hope," you say chuckling. It lightens the somewhat somber energy that seems to swallow the place up as the bar regulars and other lonely folks of the night all watch you. You laugh softly into the microphone.

"Anyone have any requests for me, or am I free to sing what I'd like?," you ask the small audience. Everyone gives encouraging whoops at the second option and you give that same lighthearted giggle that Spencers heart aches for. You were unbelivably beautiful, the light catching the highlights of your face as you look at everyone smoothly. You tuck some hair behind your ears as you look to the small band.

"Let's do the song I was practicing upstairs earlier," you call to them. They all nod their heads at you, as you clear your throat and take a sip of water.

"This song is called Downers, by Greentea Peng," you say softly. You start humming along with the music before you start to sing the lyrics and christ -

"I can't smell the flowers / felt empty now for hours / lost my powers / I can't smell the flowers / I'm sick of all these towers / think I done too many Downers," You sing the first verse with ease. Spencer's ears are so attuned to the music he can barely drink his scotch. Your voice is melodic, it flows out with no problem and soothes Spencer so much he feels like he could pass out right there. His eyes look to your expression, eyes closed as you smile at the self-aware lyrics of the song. Your body language is so comfortable with the words, he imagines the song is personal to you in some way.

"hard to see the value in these half-hearted encounters / can't deal with the truth so we just change the world around us / to feel and smell just like we want it to / fuck what we're meant to do / can't hang round be no fool / wasting time just getting high / getting high / to get by / clear my mind clear blue skies / all this time I've been flying from up here," You sing the runs with easy, your voice syncing perfectly with the music being played. Spencer's eyes don't leave you for even a second as he watches you sink in and become part of the music. Your shoulders fall, as you tap along the rhythm of the song before singing the chorus again, then delving into the second verse.

The first verse weighs on Spencer's mind as you continue onto the second and third verse. The lyrics of the song are as fitting to him as possible. It feels too relevant for Spencer to forget about it but he tries as you continue your performance, mixing modern radio ballads with older classics. Your voice is like medicine to Spencer's exhaustion, he wants to relax in the sound forever and his head's so fixated on you - he knows he needs to talk to you. To get to know you, something if anything. He doesn't remember the last time he's felt this strong towards someone but he'd be damned if he didn't chase it.

When you finish your performance, you collect tips from all the bar patrons and wish everybody a kind morning. Spencer didn't realize that another full hour had passed and he sees walking towards the bar so, in the least creepy way he can, he stands to follow you. You order a club soda and sit on the bench, where Spencer takes a seat next to you. You roll your eyes, but you'd be lying if you said he wasn't attractive to you. You turn your body to face him and he shoots you smile in return.

"You're not one for subtlety are you?," you say softly as the bartender hands you your drink. You take a sip, feeling the cool relief on your worn throat. Spencer laughs, looking at the floor before looking back up at you.

"For a woman as beautiful as you? Can't say I am, no," Spencer says lightly. You roll your eyes but you're smiling into your drink as you do.

"What about flattery?," you ask again. Spencer chews the corner of his lips as his eyes grace your body, noticing the way your skin shows around the shoulders of your dress. He laughs.

"That one I can manage," Spencer's voice is a murmur. You put your drink down and readjust how you sit, looking at Spencer's face. You can see right through him, really. You can with most men, but especially someone who does what you used to do. You want to laugh at him and say theres no need for the formality but it isn't for the two of you. It's for the people in the bar who count the seconds before you two walk away together. You were going to fuck him, you knew that the second he sat so close during your performance but the rest of the bar didn't so the formal talk and idle chat is for them.

"I don't really do this very often -" Spencer starts. You roll your eyes, cutting him off mid-sentence.

"You're not a good liar, you know that?," you say softly. Spencer is startled but intrigued by your observation. He looks to you for an explanation and you just shrug at him. He looks into your eyes and it's like you see past him. He falters for a few seconds.

"Old habits die hard," you start first "picking up on when someones lying to sleep with me just happens to be one," you say, chuckling. You're not upset or sarcastic, simply laughing at the situation and reminiscing. Spencer shifts uncomfortably for a second, not really used to someone being able to see through him so quickly.

"I should be clear that I'd still like to sleep with you," you say, blinking through your lashes. Spencer nearly chokes when he hears, a blush forming on his face. It was becoming clear that you were gonna lead the way on this one.

"But don't be dishonest, it's boring - you yourself are probably more interesting than what you tell other people," you say thoughtfully. Spencers befuddled at how you just seem to know but you shake your head.

"I've made my rounds, men and women," you say casually. Spencer feels like he's dying at your confession but can't help himself - finding it beyond attractive that you managed both.

"What do you wanna know?" Spencer asks relaxed. You give him a small smile.

"What's your name? What do you do? Whats your star sign? The usual," you say jokingly. Spencer can't help but laugh, genuinely laugh.

"My names Dr. Spencer Reid, I work for the FBI for the Behavioral Analysis Unit, and I'm told I'm a Scorpio," Spencer says, smiling. Penelope told him that forever ago though he hasn't thought about since then. You give him a grin.

"An FBI agent ? You must be here for all the murders they had in downtown, huh?," you ask curiously. He looks suprised but how in touch you are.

"I keep up with the news," you say casually. Spencer keeps learning about you and his attraction to you only increased. He nods, telling you you're right and you mentally high-five yourself.

"What do you wanna ask me?," you say, perching your lips out. Spencer looks at them before his eyes flick up at your eyes

"What else do you? Other than sing, I mean,"

You tilt your head in though for a second, before shrugging.

"For work? I make most of my money singing, anyways. I studied other stuff in college, but music is what I love to do and I make decent money off of working different celebrations. This bar gave me my first gig so I'm always here. Other than that, I volunteer at local stuff - gotta keep in touch you know?," you softly. Spencer looks at your expression with an adoration he can't explain. He finds himself speaking before he can think too much about it.

"I haven't been looked into like that before," Spencer blurts out. You chuckle.

"You said you do behavioral analysis, right?," you asks. Spencer nods.

"Trying to get someone to fuck you is esentially the same. You watch them and try to appeal to their situations so you get your result. You're a hunter, all the same. Sometimes it's killers and sometimes it's an attractive woman whose married but doesn't have her ring on - it's a mindgame," you say carefully. Spencer knows you're right but the way you say it so bluntly makes him feel a way. It's the first time a woman has made him this uncomfortable and in a fucked up way he's happy about it. It sounds cocky, but the challenge is attractive to Spencer. You weren't trying to isolate yourself from other women, instead just making a general commentary on human beings. You were intelligent.

"How could you tell?,"

"You're too well practiced with expression and stuff. Too much attention to detail," you reply.

"You're entitled to whatever but be careful with yourself," you warn. Spencer just listens.

"Full disclosure, I studied criminology in college - so I'm familiar with your work," you say a little shy, Spencer raises his brows and assures it's fine before you continue.

"You do what you do at work because it catches them. You can hold onto a happy ending and that's important," you say softly "But, sleeping around is a personal cause with no heroes you know? The loneliness will always come back, and those mind games you play just to get rid of it will start to fracture you," you say thoughtfully. Spencer feels some tears prick at his eyes but he covers them before he looks at you.

"I don't sleep around much anymore, but when I do - I can't promise I'll leave my name and number. Old habits, you know? But I see myself in you, the way you move is something I definitely recall," you say laughing. Spencer feels so damn weird - confused as to how you're so perceptive.

"Sorry to read you like that, I just like you. You're interesting," you say, cute as ever. Spencer is unbelievably attracted to you.

"I'm a little speechless," Spencer says laughing.

"Sorry?,"

"Don't be, but you feel like a sign to me," Spencer says softly.

"The woman I.. you know - earlier, I don't even remember her name," Spencer admits a little sadly. You shake your head, reaching out to grab his hand to provide him some comfort. He finds himself holding on.

"You learn to face the loneliness, and sometimes it makes cool stuff like this happen," you say giggling.

"I wanna remember your name," Spencer admits. You give him a small smile.

"Even after I just came for you and this is only our first meeting?"

"Especially because of that,"

You laugh aloud and Spencer notes how lovely the sound is. You look at him, before taking another sip of your drink. You stand tall, patting down your skirt before walking away, Spencer stars dumbfounded for a few seconds before he hears your voice.

"You coming?" You ask. Spencer couldn't manage to bolt faster. _____

"Can I kiss you?," Is the first question Spencer asks you when you end up in your hotel room. You laugh, looking into his eyes as the two of you stand in front of the hotel door. You put your hands on Spencer's waist, making your way up to his chest.

"It's all I've been thinking about for the last few hours so," you say softly. Spencer grins at you, leaning his head down before placing his lips on yours, slowly parting them to catch a little bit more of you. Its slow at first but only then, slowly the speed of each kiss inbetween picks up. Spencer's tongue nips yours, hands running your sides as he touches you hesitant. The whole gesture is hesitant still, though the heat is coming close to just being too much. You use your teeth gently to hitch Spencer's bottom lip and the gestures welcomed.

You pull away from Spencer to look at him, looking into his eyes with an affectionate need.

"Hey, Spencer?,"

"Yes?,"

"If you don't fuck the shit out of me, I don't think I'll ever forgive you,"

Spencer grins, before you give him a shy smile. Spencer kisses you again, the two of you moving to the bed soon after. Spencer sits on the edge of the bed, while you straddle him. Spencer's hands grip your backside. You let out a noise of suprise but Spencer just smiles, leaning his face into your neck. His teeth graze your neck, placing small kisses on patches of it as you tilt it up to give him more room. He nips at the area, sucking small hickies into it. His fingers work their way to the zipper of your dress as you lean into him, your hands on the side of his face.

Your dress falls off your shoulders, as you move back to take it off. Spencer's eyes watch you as you move out of it - throat dry as he sees that you're not wearing a bra. Your nipples come to attention at the cool air in the room and Spencer's hands move to touch you before he can think about it. He brushes them carefully, back and forth sending pleasure shooting through you rather unexpected. You managed to sit on Spencer's lap again before he continues but you whine with displeasure.

His eyes flick to you with curiosity but you don't have to explain much, simply undoing his belt, urging him to unbutton his shirt by tugging at it. He can't help his laughter as he looks at you adoringly.

"Impatient," he reminds you. You give him that same innocent look from before you as you nod at him.

"For you? Always," you reply back. Spencer leans in to kiss you again before he lets you sit in the bed, watching him undress as he did for you only moments ago. You drink in the sight of his skin, the way his hard-on sits in his boxers, standing to attention. You can't stop looking at it, the feeling of lust creeping at your throat.

"Spencer, lay down," you urge softly. He gives you a look of question but does as told, walking to the other side of the bed and laying down as he's told. He catches wind of your plan soon after, watching you take your panties off and revealing arousal that's managed to slide down your thighs. His throat catches but his silent request is soon fulfilled as you place for knees on either side of Spencer's head and settle yourself over his tongue. Spencer's hands grip your thighs as he places a few soft kisses on them, before arching his neck to meet your clit with his tongue. He's patient, flattening his tongue against your clit before motioning it back and forth. The feeling is so sudden, pleasure ripping through you as you use your hips to grind onto to Spencer's tongue.

You lean down over Spencer's cock, spitting onto the head before your mouth wraps around the tip. You use your hands to steady yourself before you bob your head, hollowing your cheeks out which makes Spencer choke. He had figured you'd both be good in bed but it's starting to be clear that it was a lot more than that.

Spencer feels good - so fucking good because he was just so attracted to you and the feeling of your mouth around his dick was working him. Your thighs moved so confidently to grind onto his tongue, using his face for your pleasure while returning the favor, you were more than good. Spencer feels you in his chest, twitching in your mouth when his mind feels with all the possibilities of what else he could do. It wasn't enough to taste you - he would keep seeking out your pleasure until the thought of him never left your mind.

This position was really just a competition to see who could make the other unravel fastest. The feeling of satisfaction he recieved when he feels you pulsate around his tongue is unmatched - the sound of tone throat gagging as you moan out some version his name, cumming all over his face but not stopping your hips. Spencer can taste you everywhere and you taste as good as you look. He's unsure of how you've managed that but he's pleased. You ride your high before you life yourself off of his face, switching yourself to be positioned over his dick. You're more than ready to do that but Spencer's stops you, looking into your eyes as he sits up. You sit between his legs but he moves you up - positioning you to expose yourself too him. Easy access.

Spencer pushes his two middle fingers between your lips, which part for Spencer easily. Your tongue wraps around them, sucking them obediently and Spencer smiles at you. He pulls them out for you, sliding his thumb along your clit before slipping his fingers inside of you, curling them up inside of you. You lean, gripping onto Spencer's shoulder letting out whimpers next to his ear. He brushes against your gspot with ease, padding against it with rhythm. The feeling makes your legs shake, Spencer already close to bringing you to orgasm and despite his somewhat aching wrist makes sure the speed is consistent.

"Spencer, please - oh my god please," this is the first time you've addressed Spencer directly and it makes Spencer's whole body ache to fuck you.

"You're beautiful," Spencer breathes out. You pull away from his shoulders and put your hands on the side of his face, kissing him intensely as you looked into his expression. You're quick to cum a second time , convulsing around his hands a second time as you hold onto his back, fingernails digging in his skin as your whole body lights up in fireworks. Moans pour from your throat as you finish, riding out your high as Spencer slows

"Spencer," your voice is unsteady as you call out to him. He hums in response and you look at him, making eye contact.

"Would you like to go on a date sometime?," you breathe out. Spencer can't help the little giggles he lets out before nodding, kissing you softly.

"Seems like you've beat me to asking," Spencer says. You kiss Spencer once more, softly and slowly before smiling in his shoulder.

"Mm, fuck me," you say giggling. Spencer laughs before he repositions himself to penetrate you, pulling out a condom from the drawer and rolling it down his erection. He lines himself with your entrance, slowly but surely watching you sink down on his cock. He chokes as he feels you around him - tight and warm and wet, taking him so well. Spencer stretches you out better than you were expecting - a burning ache as Spencer pushes towards your cervix. He's buried in you, fingers holding you up for a second.

Spencer holds you up before laying you down, hands pinning yours above your head before pulling his hips back and pounding into you. Spencer voice groans out in your ear, his orgasm drawing him closer and closer to the edge.

You use your fingers to run out one final orgasm, convulsing around Spencer which makes his whole body ache.

"I'm gonna cum," Spencer announces.

"Cum in my mouth?," you offer Spencer. He groans aloud, pulling out and sliding the condom off before positioning himself over your face. You adjust yourself by lifting yourself up on your elbows, allowing Spencer to ease into the back of your throat. Spencer lets go as soon as he does, finish in your mouth where you swallow immediately, eyes glassy as you look up at Spencer. You give him a smile, opening your mouth to show that it's all swallow, before laying back down again exhausted.

"Jesus Christ, Spencer" you say softly. He gives you a small smile.

"You should get some rest," Spencer says softly. You roll your eyes, sitting back up before leaning your head on Spencer's shoulder.

"Mm if I did that, would you be here when I woke up? Nice try, lover boy," you say. Spencer laughs, voice soft as the sun starts to rise outside.

"I'm gonna shower, and since neither of us are sleeping - you can take me to breakfast," you say, standing up and giving Spencer a kiss atop his head.

"Disappear on me and I'll book a ticket all the way to Quantico and embarrass you infront of your whole team," you say jokingly. Spencer hugs your waist as you stand and you can't help the way it melts you.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Spencer replies back. You use your hands to make him look st you and smile at him.

"Good. I'd invite you to come shower with me but I'm gonna guess you need clothes so - meet me downstairs in the lobby in like 30 mins," you instruct. Spencer just nods.

"I need your number," Spencer asks. You look into the drawer and lean down, writing your number on his chest. He looks down at it and smiles. He can see himself in the mirror, noticing you wrote it backwards so he could see it. God, Spencer is into you.

"I'm sure it'll wash off," you say smiling. Spencer rolls his eyes, the hickies you managed to bite into his skin making irony very clear. You give him a cheeky look and he can't help but laugh.

"Y/N," Spencer says to himself. You look at him confused and he just shakes his head.

"You're too fascinating to forget," Spencer says smiling. You can't help but grin, leaning down to kiss him.

"So are you, Dr. Spencer Reid,"

____

taglist: @cynbx​ @zephyr-studiesjp​ @skrrrrrrrrrrt​ @reid-187​ @louistwinslover​ @pastanest​ @nomajdetective​ @iamburdened​

[puppy-phum]

For the writer asks!!!

4, because I’m curious!!

16, because I feel like you’ve been posting way more writing recently, and I’m curious if your process / intention has changed !!

Sorry if you’ve already done either of these! If you have please accept my endless love and affection for you 🥺

sierra!! the love of my life!!! always humoring me whenever i attempt any of these things wow i don’t deserve you ;; 

4. Share a sentence or paragraph from your writing that you’re really proud of (explain why, if you like)

oh jeez. i have no idea what to put here so suddenly but let’s see...

from my liu sang fic this:

Unfortunately, where that smile can nurture, it can cripple too. When Wu Xie hides yet another cough inside his palm, air wheezing in his throat, Liu Sang can hear the tiniest hitch in his idol’s steady heartbeat. It startles him; the reaction almost violent in Zhang Qiling’s unwavering current.

i just like to watch pingxie through his eyes, especially when liu sang doesn’t really trust wu xie, doesn’t understand him at all and lowkey hates him for it. there’s also a bit of jealousy there and then confusion over his idol being so... attached. which he doesn’t want to admit. it’s sometimes hard to put into words but i’m trying. 

this from the last part of binding:

“I know,” he answers because of that, “But I also know that you don’t believe that Hei Yanjing can die. Just like I don’t believe that Xiaoge can because he’s supposed to stay. They’re both more than us. They’re both more than this world, I think.” He shrugs, and Xiao Hua studies him, eyes growing a bit darker with the slowly forming clouds. They have swallowed the sun now, and Wu Xie wonders if it will rain.

i adore the part i wrote for wu xie and xiao hua. they have an interesting dynamic and it’s somehow so nice to make xiao hua a bit cruel in this very gentle, caring type of way? he manages to say the hard things but also hides from other things he finds hard for himself (and that’s why these two also tease each other a lot). 

also the beginnings for both of weilan’s povs in my guardian au that will never get written, probably:

He’s dying. He knows that. 

It’s in the way his joints ache and his breath wheezes, how his legs feel weaker by the day, his body growing more tired. It’s in the way the black tendrils of sickness stretch across his neck, slip down his chest, curl around his wrists. It will eat him up, he knows. He’s made his peace with it.

That’s why he’s here in the first place. Dying, trying to make his last months count. There is no one waiting for him, to mourn him, and so he only wants to do something before his inevitable end, wants to at least matter.

that was shen wei and then zhao yunlan:

Shen Wei is dying. That he knows. 

What he does not know is why it bothers him so much to see the man so fragile. He’s pale, like a ghost, boney fingers twisted into his dirty shirt and dark smudges under his eyes. The black cracks that make his skin look like a web of inky veins disappear under his shirt and peek out around his wrists just over the gloves this place requires him to wear. He has death written all over his features, and Zhao Yunlan has been told that this man has one month at most to live.

Some part of him aches at the thought, old memories of blood flashing before his eyes. But has he ever fought such battles? Has he ever lost what he feels he has?

i love making parallels in my writing. i love highlighting some of the word choices by repeating them in my narrative, using them again and again to make the reader return to the previous moments where i used them. it also shows how differently you can use a certain word or a sentence when the context is different. binding has a lot of this too when wu xie drifts between dreams and memories :’D

16. Tried anything new with your writing lately? (style, POV, genre, fandom?)

oh! this is a cool question :o also idk if i’ve posted any more writing than usual, at least any actual finished writing, but hmm. when it comes to fandoms, dmbj is relatively new! i haven’t written much for it yet :’D then there’s also the long ballad which i’ve been pondering a lot and wrote this tiny snippet for so that is new too, very new. which also means a lot of new povs lol and the most interesting currently is hei xiazi bc wow that man is. amazing?

idk about anything else? i’ve mentioned this before but with my pingxie, i actually for the first time tried writing stuff in nonchronological order. just,,, wrote whatever came to me at that moment and then patched stuff together. i think am gonna continue like that bc in that way, i would probably even finish things and not just get stuck on some stupid scene in the middle :’D 

also idk if this has changed my style? binding includes a lot of style trials i’d say, just me looking into things and going, “ok so this works like this now” and leaving it there. that’s how all the dreams etc. were born. it’s just me playing with words and scenes in my head. tho that has also made me want to try very different styles! i want to hone my writing. i want to make it better. i want to... idk. create fuller stories? binding has also made me look at my writing in a new light and see what works and what doesn’t. am not sure how am gonna fix things yet but am... figuring it out?  

thanks for sending me this ♥ i hope you are resting well and don’t feel so sick anymore once you wake up :’) 

[feverinfeveroutfic]

chapter fifteen: nightshade, hemlock, mistletoe, and oleanders

"you raise up your head and you ask, 'is this where it is?' and somebody points to you and says, 'it's his', and you say, 'what's mine?' and somebody else says, 'well, what is?' and you say, 'oh my god, am I here all alone?' but something is happening and you don't know what it is, do you, mr. jones?" -"ballad of a thin man", bob dylan

At some point, during Sam's absence, Scott had spoke with Charlie over the phone over the course of a few days. Apparently, the marriage was on its last legs while neither of them paid any attention whatsoever. It all happened in one fell swoop and without a shred of remorse to boot: he was asked to leave and move somewhere else in Queens. Scott ran his finger over the rim of his water glass and propped up the side of his head in the palm of his hand. Every so often, he took a glimpse up towards the front door of the restaurant: near there was a nook in the wall in which the maitre d' suggested they keep their instruments safe at.

“How you feeling in the meantime?” Belinda kindly asked him.

“Like I'm ready to just—faint,” he confessed. “I thought Marge was it for me. Like there was no one else for me in the world.” He sighed through his nose and Belinda reached over for a pat on his shoulder. He showed her a friendly little smile, albeit a sad one.

Sam and Joey sat right across from the two of them there at the table. She glanced over at him and he raised his eyebrows at her.

“I'm sorry I hit you,” she told him, to which he shook his head.

“It's okay—if anything, I deserved both of those,” he assured her. “I've had far worse injuries, too, playing hockey and whatnot. I'd get hit with pucks and smacked with sticks—you don't walk away from a hockey rink to be a full time musician and not have problems with your teeth.” He showed her another lopsided little smile and she returned the favor. “So you're down—where?”

“Santa Catalina Island. Twenty two miles off the coast. But then again, I still have a place in New York City. You know, the apartment in Hell's Kitchen.”

“It's an island, though,” Joey pointed out. “An island, Sam! You're currently based off of an island.” He then bowed his head and cocked his mouth to the side. “Not to brag or anything,” he started again, that time in a false pompous accent, “but due to the amount of wealth I've gotten, I can buy an island at no rhyme or reason at 'tall!”

She burst out laughing at that, and she had forgotten that Scott and Belinda were still right there across from them. She turned to them right as he fetched up a sigh and looked away from them, and thus she stopped right in her tracks. Sam returned to Joey as a result: he ran his fingers through his inky black curls and he tilted his head back a bit so as to show off a bit of his throat and his Adam's apple. Not as prominent or sharp as Alex's, but still one for her to look at for a little more than a few seconds.

He then gave his hair a little toss and he turned his head to the side, and he showed her his side profile. She had left her journal back on Catalina, but at least she knew she was headed back there soon enough.

“You know what I feel like doin'?” he asked her.

“What's that?”

He glanced over at the far side of the restaurant, past the front room and to the doors next to that big front bay window.

“You have to use the bathroom?” she asked him, and he returned to her with a smirk on his face. “Oh, no, Joey.”

“What? Why not?”

“I'm not going into the men's room with you.”

“I never said we were goin' into the men's room,” he pointed out, “but I do wanna—” He gestured to her body and he showed her that smirk once again.

“Well, we can't really do it in this place, though.”

“We can go outside,” he suggested.

“It'd be cold, though.”

“Nonsense. If it's cold, it gets the girls nice and pointy and it gets the channel below the equator nice and damp, too.”

“Here's a challenge for you,” she started with a raise of her finger.

“Okay. I'm up for a challenge. I'm an athlete, thus I'm always up for a challenge.”

“You go over to that woman whom you've just met and break it off with her 'cause I'm bored.”

He raised his eyebrows at her.

“Joey, if you really feel things with me, I want you to prove it.”

He never moved or said anything.

“I want you to prove it and that I'm not just another fuck toy to you,” she continued.

Without any moment's hesitation, he clasped his hands on either side of her face and kissed her right on the lips. Those soft dark lips as smooth as molten chocolate. Right in front of everyone. Right in front of Scott and Belinda.

“Jesus, Joe,” he remarked with a chuckle.

“Yeah, Sam!” she declared to which she clapped her hands. Sam brought her hands down to his slender knees as they lingered close to her own. She was so close to the space between his thighs, so close to his belt, such that she could let her fingers find their way there.

But she kept her fingers upon those delicate knobby knees, right upon that snug rich black denim. Joey let his tongue slither right into her mouth a little bit: such a strange feeling to feel him inside of her mouth once again. His grip on either side of her face was soft and he slid his body closer to her. Even only a few inches between them and she could feel his warmth.

For a fleeting moment, she thought about when Alex leaned his body against her own back at the house on Catalina as he climbed out of that stool. But this was a different warmth, a different feeling. The softness and slim gentleness of Joey.

“French it up, why don't ya, Joseph?” Scott cracked. Sam squeezed Joey's knees as she slipped her tongue into his mouth a little bit for a taste.

Belinda whispered something to Scott, and he chuckled at that.

Sam then let go of his mouth and she gazed right into his big brown eyes as if she stared into her own. She then ran her fingers through his black curls and he closed his eyes. His curls, while soft and clean, felt a lot more coarse than usual. Coarse and fuzzy with the dryness that surrounded them there in California, the dryness despite the marine layer overhead and the rainfall from the night before.

She could smell him again on her clothes. She knew that she would never forget the taste of him on her lips and her tongue. She caressed the side of his face and she kept her eyes locked onto those soft brown irises as they swallowed her whole. As dark and full as the bottom of the ocean. As venomous as the very deadly nightshade he crawled out from onto the cold earth around them.

He parted those dark lips as he was about to say something, but no sound came out.

“Hey, love birds,” Scott called out to them, and they both broke out of it, and they turned their attention over to the waiter who brought the four of them their drinks to kick things off. Sam picked up her glass of lemonade and took a quick large sip of it; Joey blew on the surface of his coffee before he took a drink.

“You're not even gonna add sugar to it?” Belinda asked with an unsure chuckle. Sam turned her attention to Scott as he held his mug of Irish coffee to his mouth.

“Doesn't need sugar,” he assured her with a shake of his head. “It's already got the whole package.” He took a sip with his eyes closed.

“I've had Irish coffee before,” Sam recalled. “How is it?”

“Damn rich,” Scott replied, and he coughed. “Whoa. That'll put some hair on the chest.”

“Right back in where you shaved the word 'not' in?” Joey teased him, and Belinda laughed at that.

“Yes, Joey!” Scott laughed along with her.

“Wow!” Chuck's voice carried in right there, and the four of them turned their attention to the left side of the room. He stepped into the room at that moment and he showed off a big sheet of thick paper to them. It was a drawing of him with his arms curled out before him and his head bowed a bit. All along his arms were jagged points, all done in big bold but soft colors.

“Holy shit,” Scott declared.

“Beautiful, Chuck—” Belinda said, and her voice trailed off at the sight of it.

“It's all crystals,” he said, “at least that's according to Marla.”

“Marla made you that?” Sam asked him.

“Yeah, I was just gonna say, that looks like her style,” Belinda added.

Sam turned her attention to Joey.

“I left my journal on Catalina,” she admitted to him with a shrug of her shoulders.

“Damn. I really wanted to see what kind of art you've been up to lately.”

“It's been—I want to say autobiographical. On the next boat ride over, I'll make a note to show you.”

“Next boat ride over to visit yo' mama,” Joey cracked as he took a sip of his black coffee.

“Visit Joe Mama?” she joked.

“Visit Joe Mama, exactly!” He drank down a bit more of his coffee before Scott passed that drawing of Chuck over to them for a better look. Marla had sketched him out with some bright pink colored pencil and then she outlined him with thick lines of black ink, while the crystals where shaded in with those fine points. Down at the bottom of the page, she had signed her name “Marla Taylor” in large curly penmanship.

“Who needs to buy someone something when you can make 'em?” Sam proclaimed.

“Right, right,” Joey said as he took yet another drink of coffee. He still hadn't let things go with Testament, but she dared not let that interfere with her appreciation of her best friend's artistry. Those clean lines and Sam wanted to make some more pieces of art, all for Testament themselves. But she knew that someone on their end would recognize it, especially if she did something as obvious as sign her initials at the very bottom. Something more, something different.

An eager Chuck returned to them to fetch that piece of drawing and Joey then tapped on Sam's shoulder.

“Come with me,” he whispered into her ear, even though she was hungry and she wanted to stay there to see what Scott had in mind for brunch. But Joey insisted, and thus she followed him over to the bathrooms. They passed under a sprig of mistletoe pinned up to the wall over the entrance to the front of the restaurant; it was there she stopped right in her tracks when she realized where he was taking her.

“Joey, we're not doing it in the bathroom,” she scoffed.

“We won't,” he assured her; instead, he took her hand and he led her to that narrow hallway which led to the bathrooms. He kept on walking past the men's room and to the narrow little nook right around the corner from there. He pressed his back to the wall and he unzipped his little black leather jacket, and he showed off his chest to her.

“Oh, I see,” she breathed.

“Yeah—c'mon, Sam I am,” he begged her, to which he slid down the wall a bit so he was eye to eye with her.

“Where do you—um, want me to start?” she asked him.

“I'll start things off, actually,” he told her and he lunged for the button on her jeans. Sam held still with her legs spread out as he undid it for her. Butterflies danced about in her stomach as he ran his tongue along the edge of his teeth. He had such a fierce twinkle in his eyes: they shone brighter than the fire opals on her bracelet.

He brought his dark lips to the little bit of skin right under her belly button, to which she gasped at the feeling.

“Oh—!”

“Yeah,” he growled as he gave her another kiss there. She realized that he was going all the way down from her waist to what lay below. She had given it to him while in England and so it made sense that he returned the favor to her. His lips were warm and silken, and far more than the feeling of molten chocolate.

“Joey?” a woman's voice caught them both off guard.

He stopped. Sam froze in her tracks. He lifted his head and he fixed her jeans, but he never buttoned them back up again.

“What're you doing?” Sam demanded.

“What're you doing?” the woman laughed, and he clambered to his feet. He ran his fingers through his black curls and stood right before Sam so she wouldn't have to see her. The woman chuckled at him.

Sam peeked out from behind him to the woman across from them. She was about Joey's height, but she had a full head of frizzy but neat golden blonde hair down past her shoulders. She did in fact look older than Sam herself, but not too much older: her milky white skin had not a single blemish or crease on it, but her deep eyes aged her more than a piece of gray hair ever would for her. She was slender but with that classic hourglass figure, much like a model: it also didn't help matters that she wore big black stiletto heels on her feet to go with her fitted dark denim jeans.

“What're you doing?” she asked him with another chuckle.

“She—” Joey gestured back to Sam. “—had a spot on her jeans and I was just—checking it.”

She froze and she looked back at Sam, whose mouth had gone completely dry and whose mind had gone completely blank. Nothing to say and nowhere to begin. The woman then chuckled again, and then she shook her head.

“You're funny!” she told him, and he sank down a bit so she could Sam in full for herself.

“Krista, this is Sam—better known as Sam I am.”

“Sam I am?” Krista echoed him.

“Also known as Sammich, Samantha, and—my personal favorite—Sam hill.”

“Sam—this is—this is Krista,” he sputtered. “My new friend.”

“Friend?” she demanded from him. She gaped at him complete with a raise of her eyebrows.

“Y-Yes,” Joey stammered; even with his sun kissed skin, the blush in his face was all too obvious. Krista flashed her an unsure smile and she shrugged in response. He cleared his throat once, twice, four times and he bowed away from them so they wouldn't have to see his face; Sam lingered closer to him.

“H-H-How'd you know I was back here?” he stammered some more to her.

“Scott told me he saw you run back here,” Krista explained, and Sam frowned at the sight of the blush on his face and his heavy breathing.

“Are you okay?” she asked him, concerned, and he coughed a bit.

“Yeah—I just—got a—a—” He patted his chest and straightened himself upright. “—a—a li'l—um—”

“Joey,” Krista said.

“Joey,” Sam echoed her.

“Huh?”

“You don't—look good,” Krista told him with a shake of her head.

“Yeah, you look like you're about ready to pass out,” Sam added.

“I'm fine, I promise,” he assured them, but then his eyes rolled up into the back of his head and he fell onto his back. Krista and Sam glanced at one another in complete amazement, and they both stood over him as he lay there on the linoleum with his arms out on either side of him.

“What should we do?” Sam asked her in a small voice, to which Krista nibbled on her bottom lip.

“Good question.” She stopped and then she looked over at Sam with a tested look on her face. “Was he—actually checking your jeans?”

“Do you want the truth?” Sam asked her.

“Always.” She smelled faintly of peppermint, an aroma that Sam hadn't smelled in what felt like forever; Sam herself shook her head and Krista fetched up a sigh and rolled her eyes.

“Don't worry, I'll take care of this,” she told her in a low voice and with a wave of her hand

“Okay,” Sam replied with a nod of her head, and she stepped away from there. Her face felt so hot right then: it felt rather obvious in that hallway that Joey had kindled up a new flame there with another woman, and yet she still wanted him. She still wanted him even when she realized that her jeans were about to fall right off her hips.

She caught herself before anyone else caught her with her pants down.

Sam stopped right there, right underneath the sprig of mistletoe and she adjusted the zipper on her jeans. Krista's laughter floated out from that hallway and Sam sighed through her nose. Unless he really made it obvious to her, then she wouldn't have gone through with that with him. Or maybe he wanted to play the field, but there were too many questions she had already at that moment.

She straightened her shirt out and gave her dark hair a little toss back with a flick of her head. She could only hope that he was playing the field. That was the only hope she had right then.

“Hey, Sam!” Scott called out right then.

“Brunch is here!” Belinda added.

She turned to those tables right behind her and she joined them both for some French toast, sausage links, and biscuits and gravy.

“Where's Mr. Nightshade?” Belinda asked her.

“He's—He's—He's—” Sam could hardly speak herself. She sipped on her lemonade a bit so as to clear her head. “He's having a moment,” she spoke right then.

Scott chuckled at that. Even from a momentary glimpse, Sam could tell that that mug of Irish coffee had already left its mark on him.

But she shrugged and she dug into her biscuits and gravy, the former of which were light and fluffy and fresh out of the oven; the latter of which was pale but peppery and even soft in texture. She took a glance to the left and the booth that Testament had packed into for themselves.

Chuck and Eric were both still very much in awe of that drawing that Marla had made; if only there was a way in which Sam could find her way back to Catalina just to fetch her journal, but alas she could not, not with brunch at the helm. Meanwhile, Alex leaned his back to the wall there in the booth and he kept his cup of tea close to his chest. He took a glimpse over at her with those deep eyes, as they looked as deep as ever at that moment.

If Joey could play around with another woman, why not play around with other men? If he really wanted her that bad, then she would have to act.

Scott cracked a joke to Belinda and she almost choked on her bite of sausage from laughing so hard. But Sam had her attention fixated upon the young buck across the floor from her. The shirt that her mother had bought for her fit him rather snugly, all around his waist and his chest, such that he had undone the top two buttons and showed off a bit of his chest. He said something to Greg who then nodded at him: he leaned past him and flashed Sam a wink. She returned the favor with a pretty little wave.

Alex picked up his tea and sauntered across the floor towards her. For a second, she swore that he had a bit of a sway to his hips as if he knew what was going on.

He took his seat next to her but he never bunched up closer to her than the single couple of inches that the seats allowed them.

“By the way, I should tell you, that wasn't me who was rubbing your butt last night,” she promised him.

“I think you told me that and I wasn't able to say something about that,” he recalled, “to that I say—” He gaped at her. “—oh, no.”

“Yeah. But if it's any comfort, though, my mom had the hots for Joey when I brought him home.”

“Wow.” He raised his eyebrows at that.

“Yeah. If it's any further comfort, I'm nothing like that.”

“Is your mom like—always like that?” He lowered his voice a bit on that last part.

“Not really,” she admitted with a shrug of her shoulders. “It's like—something woke her up when I brought Joey home for her to meet him.”

He paused for a second.

“What exactly does she do?” he asked her.

“She's a writer. No clue what she writes, though, but she's got a good deal with it, such that—you know, she was able to move to Catalina and spoil us for a few days.”

Alex glanced behind him.

“Where even is Joey?” he wondered aloud.

“I have no clue.”

“Well, I saw you kissin' him,” he muttered to her.

“And?”

He held his hands on either side of his tea cup and he pursed his lips together.

“And? Alex?”

“Thought you guys were really gonna go there,” he confessed with a lean of his head towards her.

“We didn't, though,” she assured him in a low voice. She mopped up a bite of biscuit in gravy.

“How is it?” he asked her.

“Delicious.”

“We haven't gotten ours yet.”

“Are you serious?” She was stunned by that.

“Dead serious. Hope it comes soon, too—it smells divine.”

He took a sip from his tea and she ate up that bite of biscuit in unison with him.

“That was good pie, though,” he told her.

“The pie we had last night?”

“Yeah. Nice li'l slice of your mom's pie right in my belly.”

She giggled at him.

“Kinda wish we had some more of it,” he confessed.

“More of that plus the spag Bol from the first night,” she added.

“Oh, my god, that was unreal. So simple and homey but god—it just warmed me up so much that I fell asleep right when I lay down on the couch.”

He sipped on the tea some more and that time he closed his eyes to nourish the feeling. Sam took another bite of biscuit and gravy and she, too, closed her eyes so to relish in the lush pepper paired with the light and fluffy biscuit.

“Hey, you two guys wanna hang with us for New Year's and my birthday?” Scott offered them.

“Oh, yeah, that's right!” Sam declared. “Your birthday's New Year's Eve. Um—well, I was planning on coming to see you guys on New Year's but I dunno about afterwards, though.”

“Yeah, me, neither,” Alex confessed.

“Come on—it'll be fun!” Scott declared. “Metallica will be there, too. I talked to James just yesterday—they're gonna be with us.” Sam was reluctant however, given she had a hunch that Joey had his heart in Krista rather than her even with the kiss he had bestowed on her. Charlie called to Scott from across the room right then, and he raised a finger to them, and then he strode away from there. Sam turned to Alex and he looked on at her, puzzled and with both hands still around the base of his tea cup.

“Alex—will you hang with me on New Year's Eve?” she asked him.

“You're asking me to hang with you?” he echoed her.

“If you don't mind,” she told him with a shrug of her shoulders. He shifted his weight and flicked his black curls back from the side of his neck. The hair dye still held up but she could see it fading away from his hair. Those grays were persistent in how they didn't want to be hidden away.

“You know what?” he said. “I'd love to. Are we going back to Catalina or somewhere else?”

Sam hesitated for a second. That house up in Reno was empty but the memories still remained there.

“Let's go somewhere else,” she told him. “Has Testament ever toured Reno?”

“Uh, we've toured in Vegas. But—not really, no.” He gazed on at her, those deep eyes so deep and soulful. “Why?” He squinted at her.

She brought the tines of the fork to her lips but she never said anything to him. His face then lit up and he snapped his fingers.

“That reminds me,” he said.

“What's that?”

“I have something to give you,” he told her.

“More and more gifts each and every time,” she joked.

“Well, it's because we love you,” he declared. “You don't give gifts to people when you don't love them.”

He took another sip of tea and then he gestured for her to follow him into the front part of the restaurant, right to the front room and back in the direction of Joey and Krista.

“Careful with the mistletoe there,” she noted, to which Alex leaned his back towards the wall and let her go ahead to the other room. He then bowed after her, right underneath that little lush sprig of mistletoe. He joined her right by her side all the way back to the front door.

There was that small space right next to the door: near the front of the whole stack stood his guitar case. He crouched down to the floor and he nudged it to the side: Sam lingered next to him with her hands pressed to her hips.

“Let's see, I think—Eric had it stashed with him,” he said aloud, “like I showed it to him right before our second night in Reseda and he was like 'yeah, I'll keep it safe for you, Alex.'” He then lifted his gaze back up to her.

“Seeing as you just have your little purses,” he started, and he took out a large red wine colored handbag with a small five petaled flower comprised of large mismatched beads sewn to the front: a flower that reminded her of the oleanders there in the south land. It was obviously handmade but the sight of it made her gasp.

“Oh, my god, Alex—this is beautiful.”

“I just think of the glorious guitar strap that you and Belinda made for me for my birthday last year,” he confessed, “and I decided to make something of my own for you. I just see you with your purses and all the stuff you put into them, and at one point, I thought, 'man, Samantha could use something a little bigger, but I'm not finding anything larger, though.' It was actually an effort from me, my brother, and both my parents—I don't know the first thing about beading. But I suggested it to my mom and she goes, 'okay, honey, I'll give it a shot.' My brother and I picked out the color and the fabric, and my dad pieced it together—”

Sam threw her arms around him before he could finish his sentence, and then he returned the favor. Those long spidery fingers caressed over her back and her hair.

It was going to be the first New Year's Eve in which she would have no one to kiss especially if Joey was going to tease like that. But then again, Alex stood there next to her with his body close to her. The warmth of his body. The softness of his white skin and his jet black hair.

She looked right into his round boyish face and he showed her a little grin, albeit one full of imperfect teeth.

“So where do you wanna take me?” he asked her.

“I'll take you to the place I know all too well,” she told him. “It's a long drive, though.”

“I'm up for it,” he promised her. “As long as we get to see Anthrax in Long Beach the night before.”

“Of course! And that's Zelda's birthday, too.”

He gaped at her.

“Oh, shit, really?”

“Yeah. I just now remembered it, too. She threw it at me during the Stormtroopers of Death tour. I can't believe I still remember it, too.”

“Wow,” he said in a hushed voice. He adjusted the collar of his shirt and she slung the bag over her shoulder.

“Does it fit?” he asked her; and she brought the bag itself close to her hip.

“Like a glove,” she promptly replied.

“Excellent!” He flashed her a thumbs up.

“We have to go back to Catalina, though,” she told him. “Just—you know. Tell my mom what's up and whatnot.”

“Day after Christmas, though.”

“Of course,” she told him and with a nod of her head, “of course, of course, Alex. If she rubs your butt again, I'll tell her about it. Don't you worry.”

He fetched up a sigh and then he bowed his head a bit. He stepped back for a better look at the handbag under her arm. She brought it up before her thighs: the bud of the oleander was comprised of five small black onyx beads, much like the ones on the bracelet Chuck gave her, as well as one large wooden bead. Light pink and white beads meanwhile made up those five petals for that familiar poison flower.

“It almost looks like a book bag,” he noted. “Like something you take to school.” He froze right then. “By the way, are you even still in school?”

“I don't think I am,” she confessed. “I never got any pieces of mail from there—no grants or anything. As far as I know, Bill ended the whole entire career for me.”

“That greasy bastard,” he proclaimed. “Talk about not practicing what he preaches.”

“Right?” she laughed. “Although if I'm honest, Alex, I almost felt restrained while in school.”

“Well, I'm gonna relay the same thing Eric told you earlier—if it feels right, you're probably right.”

“Hey, Alex!” Eric himself said right behind them. “Biscuits are here.”

“Oh boy!” Alex rubbed his hands together, and Eric spotted the handbag under Sam's arm.

“Oh, hey, you found that in my case!”

“Sure as hell,” Alex replied.

“Thank you again, too,” Sam told him and they embraced one last time before Alex hurried back to the table with Eric. The warmth stayed in her face as she walked back to Scott and Belinda.

It was only fair to herself and Joey after all.