#like the broken bottle the placement of his hand the everything

[dessertpanda]

Her Healed Heart

Master List

(HELLOO this is a Leo x fem Reader/ Raph x fem Reader) (2012-2016 turtles in mind) Kinda angst, but over all its happy! (kinda) Anyways, warnings: Fighting (Physical), Yelling, crying, cursing

        Raph sat panting and grunting with each fist he threw at the dummy hanging in the dojo. He was so concentrated that he failed to see the girl slip in with a tray of snacks and a water bottle. Y/N took a seat in the corner of the dojo, not wanting to interrupt his concentration. She watched in awe as his muscles flexed with each punch and beads of sweat dripped down his shell and onto the mats below. She could see his mind racing, replaying past fights, moments where his family was in danger, April, Mikey, Donnie... and unbeknownst to her, the memory that got his blood boiling, was when he had to watch her dangle from the hands of Shredder. It enraged him, the fact that he was too weak to protect her, watcher her fall 5 stories, until his idiot leader of a brother swept in and saved the day.  Lost in his little world, his punches got more aggressive, sloppier, and deadly. Scaring both, the dummy was sent flying into the tree that had grown from the grounds of the sewers. "AGH" He screamed in frustration, eyes locked on the dummy that was now embedded into the tree. "stupid fucken Le..." He bit his tongue the second he saw her sitting there. "Y/N?" His was flushed, due to both his breathlessness and the fact that she had caught him in such an outbreak.

There she sat, her eyes refusing to leave the placement of the dummy, "Amazing" she mumbled marveling at his sheer strength. Her eyes held nothing but admiration. She let out a soft eep when she finally met his eyes, "Sorry... I brought you a snack" She smiled at him, gesturing to the tray next to her. "You've been in here for hours, and you need to keep hydrated!"

He only continued to stare at her, allowing his brain to process what was happening. "uh Right," He quickly sat down in front of her, eyes refusing to leave the tray. "Sorry, for not noticing you earlier" He whispered before moving to bring the food to his lap.

"It's fine!" She smiled, watching him as he brought the half sandwich to his mouth. "It's spicy tuna with chili paste spread on the bread.... I know you like it spicy" Raph could feel his face heat up slightly, she had remembered his favorite food, the exact way he liked his sandwich, and she had noticed that he hadn't left the dojo all morning. "Oh and a new bandanna, thought you might want to change your sweaty one" And she knew how much he hated the feeling of a wet bandanna, it was the only thing he hated about training. With a small blush, he extended his hand and gently took it from her small hands. Gently running his fingers over the fabric, still slowly chewing. With a thick swallow, he returned his gaze to her.

"You like me or something doll?" He half-jokes, half-praying she did. He watched as her face began to turn a shade of pink, softer on her skin tone than when it appeared on his. He adored everything about her, from her soft y/e/c, to her delicate nose, and the shade of lip gloss she wore. Oh, how he envied it, to be allowed to sit on her lips all day and be complimented for it.

"Raph... what... how.. no wait" She waved her hands around, trying to clear her thoughts for a second... "Have you ever thought about getting into a relationship?" He raised his head and quirked an eyebrow at her question.

"I guess.... never really thought that it would be an option for me..." He huffed, setting the empty tray back on the floor before crossing his arms. "I mean, I'm a giant mutant turtle with anger issues... nobody's ever, really wanted that I guess" His mind was now reeling with all his insecurity... ones he's kept buried deep within the wall of his emotions, set to never be let out. But yet, she had broken it down so easily. It was as if he wanted to be vulnerable with her, he wanted her to know every little detail about him. "I mean, I have this cold scaly skin that's fucken green, I have anger issues that always end up with me wanting to hurt someone..."

"I like your green skin, it's cool and feels nice when you rub against it... I like your temper... it shows how much you care for your family and friends" She leaned ever so closer to him, allowing the heat from her skin to clash with his cool temperature. "If you didn't... I'd think you'd be okay with letting your family be harmed, but you're always the first to protect them" She gently reached for the top of his hand, but pulled back when she got too close, "You haven't been loved properly by another person... because of how your family was treated in the past..." with a huff she looked up into his bright green eyes. "I-I'd like to be that person..." There she had done it. She had confessed and now with her heart in her throat, she waited... and waited... and waited...

While her hope was dwindling fast, Raph's mind was speeding up.... She had liked him back, like actually wanted to be with him, he couldn't believe it. Was the universe testing him? Was he allowed to accept something so selfish? to take her away from a man of her own breed? He was struggling, his mind at battle with his heart, and oh so badly did he want his heart to win. "I...I uh"

"I-it's Okay Raph, I understand if you don't... feel the same." She held a soft smile, but yet a world of pain surrounded her.  "I-I'm sure you prefer a girl like April! Pretty, in shape, feminine" She sighed.  Her words snapped him out of his daze, hearing her talk in such a way broke his heart.

"Wait! No no no... I don't find you attractive... No wait Fuck!" He messed up, to miss such a crucial word. He thought she was beautiful, and Angle sent as a gift for him... and yet his chance was here but he screwed it up. "Y/N listen I meant" He tried to rectify his misspelled words but she only stood, facing away from him.

"I-It's okay Raph..." She had tears flowing down her cheeks, but her smile was still bright. "I mean... you're a super hero" She laughed running a hand through her hair. "I can understand your higher standards" His heart dropped, and she smiled while accepting his accidental rejection. He couldn't let her walk away, not like this.

"Y/N wait please!" He tried to get up as fast as he could but struggled with his shell hitting the wall. How could he be so stupid, quite possibly the only girl he'd ever meet who found him attractive.... and he's made her cry. "Please, stop" He made up his ground and quickly grabbed her arm before she could walk out of the Dojo... "I do... I uh" 'Damn it Raph come on!' he screamed in his own head.

"Raph... Please don't feel obligated to return my feelings simply because I'm crying" She glanced down at his hand that firmly grasped her wrist. Her eyes were bright red and her face stained with tears, fresh ones replacing them by the second.  "I... I can take a rejection Raph... but please don't make it worse"

"Please Y/N just look at me please, Let me find my words" He squeezed the slightest bit tighter, still making sure her wrist was unharmed.

"Raph... I accept your rejection... I understand Okay?" Her tone was a little harsher, proof that her heart was indeed broken... Raph quickly moved his hand to her shoulder, allowing him to turn her around to face him, but he never got the chance to. As he began to gently tug on her shoulder, another green hand was placed on her other, keeping her from moving. Eyes looking up from Y/N, he was met with electric blue eyes staring back at him.

"Raphael... You've done enough" The beautiful leader in blue, his older brother, his greatest competition... Leonardo. Of course, where Y/N was Leo wasn't that far behind, they were best friends... enjoyed the same shows, the same foods, same color... but yet she stood there confessing to Raph...'And not me' Leo's heart hurt at her tears... He knew of her feelings for his hot-headed younger brother... and it hurt him every time she spoke so fondly of him. "I'm assuming she confessed?" With quick hands and a gentle tug, Y/N was settled into his chest, comfort, and safety.

"Get lost Leo... this doesn't involve you" Raph was angry now, how dare Leo stick his damn nose into his business.

"It does when My best friend is in tears..." He growled, moving softly to pick Y/N up princess style.

"I DIDN'T MEAN TO" Raph roared. So many emotions running through him, anger, embarrassment, regret, love... but yet he couldn't decide which one to allow to take control. However, he didn't get another word out because Leo was already long gone.

(Mini Time Skip)

Raph sat pacing the Dojo...he hadn't left... not after seeing Leo run off with you like that. He grumbled and huffed, he needed to fix this.... for once he had the chance to get the girl. And he'd be damned if he didn't try.

"Her favorite flowers are Gerbera diasy... she likes them because they remind her of you..." With a sharp turn, Raph was face to face with Leo once again... "I convinced her to come back here in like 30 minutes... prep for it" That was all he had to say, he left shortly after... 'He helped me' Raph was thankful for his brother's intel, of course, he did, he wanted them to be happy.

(Another Time Skip)

Raph sat at the kitchen table, white Gerbera diasys in hand and a nervous look on his face. "You got this... You got this" He tried to hype himself up, paper with the words he wanted to say squeezed tightly within his hand in case he got tongue-tied again. He was physically shaking... and it only got worse when her light footsteps caught his ears. "Y/N" He whispered out as she walked through the kitchen entrance.  He didn't miss the way her eyes narrowed, still red from her crying.

"Raph I" She tried to speak but he had the courage to he had to speak now.

“Y/n… I’m sorry for* with hands dragging down his face, how could he have messed up so bad, “Please, that time in the Dojo... I messed up! I couldn’t find my words” He gently lifted her chin. However, her eyes remained narrowed. "I can't give up.... not when I'm this close to getting the girl" He gently held out the flowers. "I... I like you Y/N so much" he watched as her face slowly began to lighten... "Y-You.. Ugh, You left me awestruck dammit! To think a girl like you wants me!" He was out of breath... panting in the still room as she continued to stare at him. A small smirk slowly took the place of her frown... reaching for his hand, she held it tightly within her own.

"Was that so hard?" Her voice was snarky, but yet it was music to his ears.

"Yeah actually... it was" He huffed before bringing her close, holding her close to his chest. Staring down into her eyes... "But I'll never have to do it again so I'm happy" He laid a gentle kiss on her forehead, allowing his lips to linger... enjoying the touch and smell of her hair on his nose.

'Perfect... she's happy and that's all that matters' There in the corner, Leo stood. The fearless leader never showed sadness, but he allowed the tears to flow... Within the clasp of his hands were her true favorite flowers, Red Gerbera Diasys... Not white, Red. 'Their fiery color reminds her of you... Idiot' He silently scolded his brother from within his mind. He was gonna make a move, had a plan all set but instead he chose to watch. Watch as Raph gets the girl, watch as his only chance goes out the window... He watches as her heart is healed, and no matter how badly it hurts, how much he'd cry seeing them together... However many pieces it took for his heart to break into, as long as she stayed whole, he was satisfied. 'Be happy... I'll always be here when you need me' With that, he walked away unnoticed, and with a dissension, he'd regret for a lifetime.

(Okay... Leo is my favorite so it kinda hurt making this But ugh, felt like i had too. HOPE YOU ALL ENJOY!!!! I'LL CATCH YOU ALL LATER )

Thank you all for the support and love!!! HAVE A GREAT DAY AND REMEMBER TO EAT, DRINK, AND LOVE YOURSELF BYEEEEEE LOVE YOU ALL

[gentil-minou]

Lanuary Day 16 - Dadji (featuring new foster kid Mo Xuanyu)

(warning, this was meant to be a quick thought but spiraled so is rougher than normal sdjfhs)

Xuanyu keeps getting into fights in school, coming home all bruised up and angry, running straight to his room.

He's only been with them for a couple weeks, but it's not going well. He ran out of the last social worker's appointment, who only shook his head at Xuanyu's new foster parents.

"He always does that. Just barges out. This will be his fifth placement. Sorry, just…just try your best till we figure out what to do with him."

Lan Wangji resists the urge to bare his teeth at the social worker.

A social worker who treats their charge like a sack of flour meant passed from one person to the next. But of course it's wwx, who's has experienced something far too similar when he was a kid, who snaps at the social worker.

They resolve to keep Xuanyu as long as they can, and to ignore every one of the social worker's words.

But Xuanyu doesn't make it easy. He fights, he yells. When A-Yuan, they're adoptive 5-yo son, tries to play, Xuanyu rebuffs him. He's only 12 years old, but his words spit like fire and he seems to want to burn everything they touch.

At first, wwx steps up to the plate, determined. He'd gone through all this himself, of course he'd be most suitable for it. It was his idea to foster after all, so he's sure he can try.

But everything he does, every offer to go outside and kick rocks, every attempt to watch a movie, even just sitting outside the kid's door trying to show him he's there, nothing seems to work.

And wwx starts to wonder if the reason he passed from foster to foster was because of his own shitty behavior. If maybe he's not cut out for this. If broken things can only break, never fix.

It takes a toll on his health, and though he never gives up, lwj can see the bags beneath his eyes grow as his nightmares return.

lwj, admittedly, was the most apprehensive of this in the first place. he's not exactly the healthiest one of the bunch, so how could he possibly help.

And Xuanyu won't speak. He won't join them for meals or tell them anything about him. How can lwj help if he doesn't know what to do?

Then he comes home from work one day to find Xuanyu playing hooky alone at home, going through wwx's makeup.

He's got like a deer in headlights, terrified. His mouth open and shuts though all that escapes are shuddered breaths. A tattered photograph is clenched in his hands.

"I—I—…" Xuanyu stammers, but he bolts from the room before lwj can so much as blink.

lwj hears the front door slam and rattle its hinges.

Makeup lies strewn across the vanity. Bottles spilled and knocked over in Xuanyu's haste to escape. Liquid eyeliner trickles down the side, staining the carpet. Next to the stain is the crumpled photograph Xuanyu held in his hand.

lwj's intelligence has always rated above average, but it doesn't take a genius to recognize the resemblance between Xuanyu and the woman in the photo. His mother.

The social worker spoke of Xuanyu's mother with condescension, painting her as a woman perpetually under the influence raising a boy in the backseat of a used sedan as she made money in the worst way possible. That she'd died abandoning her son selfishly for the sake of one more high. His face sneered derisively as he'd spat those words out.

But the woman in the photograph lwj holds, though sickly and a little wane, is smiling with a baby in her arms. She's looking at the camera, dressed in rags while her chilld's clothes are brand new.

Her hands cradle the baby to her chest, and a light in her eyes reminds lwj of another mother, gone far too young, leaving behind a child even younger.

And he thinks, for a moment he thinks he might understand. Xuanyu a little more than he'd thought.

He waits for wwx to return with a-yuan from the daycare in case xuanyu comes back first before he heads out, not one, but two old photos tucked safely in his breastpocket.

It's an hour of slow driving through the neighborhood when he finds Xuanyu. Hidden in alleyway behind a convenience store nibbling a a honey bun, he rocks back and forth. He shivers in the cold, wearing one of the old shirts he'd brought with him from his previous placement instead of the new clothes they'd bought him. All of Xuanyu's clothes are old, older and barely fit.

lwj wonders what it's like to go from one home to the next, looked at with pity. Hearing someone slander a woman they never met, who you knew and loved and lost. How tainted gifts from them must be, spoiled by poisonous whispers.

He thinks, once again, maybe he might understand.

Xuanyu doesn't run away this time when lwj drapes a jacket over his shoulders and sits next to him, offering him a carton of milk freshly purchased. He does choke on a a bite of his honey bun and narrows his eyes at the milk like it's poison.

lwj opens the carton and waits.

xuanyu coughs again before he finally accepts. it's a while longer before he speaks. "I didn't steal it," he says, holding up his empty honey bun wrapper. "A lady gave me money when she walked by."

"Mn," lwj replies, mentally adding honey buns to the weekly shopping list.

Xuanyu draws his legs towards his chest and rests his forehead against his knees. He's not looking at anything when he says, "…Are you gonna kick me out?"

"No, we will not kick you out," lwj replies simply.

Xuanyu shrugs, but when he shoulders fall they seem a bit lighter.

"The last one did when they caught me. Said they wanted a boy not a pansy."

"They were out of line," lwj states, "wei ying enjoys wearing make up. he would be happy to teach. I am less proficient but a willing demonstrative subject."

A muffled laugh escapes from the huddled bundle next to him, followed by an intake of breath, like lwj wasn't supposed to hear that. xuanyu's shoulders stiffen again, the telltale sign of someone running away lwj knows well from all the times wwx would bolt if confronted by something he was not yet ready to face.

before xuanyu can move, lwj retrieved the photos from his pocket.

he makes sure to hand over the photo of his own mother carrying a small lwj.

xuanyu is silent as he looks at it. unlike xuanyu's resemblance to his mother, lwj hardly inherited any of his mother's features. he wonders if he can tell that the woman wearing a hospital gown in a yard surrounded by concrete walls that block the sky is lwj's mother.

"I was not permitted to see her very often," he says before xuanyu can ask. "I was told she was 'unfit for caregiving.' So I saw her once a month."

"Oh."

lwj hands him back the photo of xuanyu's mother. he'd tried to straighten it earlier, but some of the crinkles run deep. if permitted, he will make another copy on something stronger than printer paper.

"Yeah well. That guy told you what happened to my mom so…that's that."

"He told me, yes. But I would much rather prefer to hear what you have to say."

Xuanyu turns wide eyes at him. In the dim alley light coming from the street, they appear almost grey. They shake as they dart between lwj's, as if looking for a catch.

"You….really? You would?"

"Mn."

Xuanyu hands lwj back his photo, keeping his own in his. As he speaks, tears fall to rest on his mother's face. Refraction along the droplet makes her face shine.

"She liked doing make up with me, when her hands weren't shakey. She said I was prettier than her. That one day I'd grow up and be the prettiest person in the world." He takes in a deep, stuttering breath.

"But I always told her she was the prettiest. That in the future we'd walk down the street together and everyone would call us twins. But she never said anything, she just smiled.

"I think…I think she knew when it was going to happen. I think she tried. I dont, I don't believe what they said. I dont think she'd just leave me like that if she could. I don't—they keep telling me I'm supposed to hate her but I don't—I don't. I don't and I can't and I won't"

His heaves turn to sobs, and he drops his forehead back onto his knees. lwj wraps an arm around his shoulders, a warm and comforting hold.

"No one can tell you how to feel," lwj says, and he thinks for a second of a little boy kneeling at his door waiting to see a mother who would never again see him. "You simply do."

And xuanyu turns his head onto lwj's shoulder, and he cries and he cries until the sun sets and a pale white moon takes to the sky.

little by little, he begins to open up. wwx does his make up, and they go for a movie. a-yuan shows xuanyu his dolls and together they play. they find xuanyu a professional to talk to, and each day he smiles more and more. they pull him out of the school into another one, where bullying lgbtq is taken more seriously.

lwj buys him a brand new skirt for his first day and he shines.

one year later, with a small gathering of their little family, they sign the adoption papers and make it official

and in the hallway next to xuanyu's room, sits a brand new photo of him and his mother printed on glossy printer paper, right between the photos of lwj and wwx with their parents and a brand new photo of the four of them, beaming bright at the camera.

(threadfic here)

a/n - i do want to make a note because i work with social workers and foster kids with complex trauma history and their families, and i can say with experience that while the system is not perfect, many of the people involved are someone of the kindest most loving people in the world. while i'm sure social workers like the one portrayed here exist, but i can say that the ones i've had the pleasure to work with really are trying to give those who need it the best life they can. so yeah.

[feeder86]

Making Monsters: Part 2: Unleash the Beast

The timing of Tommy’s injury couldn’t have been better for Jimmy. Carrie’s course had taken her away on a work placement for the rest of the semester, and poor old Tommy had been left to fend for himself. As the captain of the football team, there were plenty of people who would have been more than willing to assist. However, it was Jimmy who had taken it upon himself to take the reins and do whatever he could. 

It was such a turn on going shopping for Tommy, who would present him with a list almost every day. Jimmy had such a thrill, beefing up the shopping bags with little treats he had paid for himself: a couple of packs of doughnuts, extra cookies, milkshakes and sodas. He added anything and everything he could to up the calories and carbs for Tommy who, for the first time in his life, was being forced to become more sedentary for the sake of his injury. 

It was through these constant trips that Jimmy finally started to get some sort of understanding of just how much Tommy ate each day. The guy was a walking trash can, a sinkhole; a pig. There was nothing else that could be said about the vast quantities he consumed, without care or concern for getting back in shape after the injury was healed.

“I know what you’re doing, you know,” Tommy chuckled as he unpacked more sweet treats from his bags of shopping. 

“And what’s that exactly?” Jimmy smiled flirtatiously back.

“You’re trying to fatten me up so I look better in my football kit when I can play again,” he smirked back. “You want me to turn into one of those freakishly fat guys you love to date and parade around here.”

Jimmy shrugged and smirked as well. “There’s nothing wrong with me having a little of my own fun while you’re out of action,” he asserted; still allowing that flirtation to glide smoothly through his voice.

Tommy opened the pack of doughnuts and sank half of one into his mouth. He moaned with pleasure, swallowing quickly and then forced the second half in; preloading the next one in his enormous hand. He nodded at Jimmy, replying with a mouthful of the tasty treat; “It’s your money,” he shrugged apathetically. “Who am I to tell you what to do with it?”

“Dude? What the fuck?” Paul grumbled as he entered Tommy’s room a couple of weeks later. The guy looked around at the mess: the empty packaging, the bottles of beer and untidiness. Tommy himself looked unkempt and unwashed. He’d been at the beer a little while before Jimmy and Paul came over and his stomach already seemed a little bloated from the gas. At least, Jimmy assumed it was a bloat.

“It’s fucking gross in here, dude,” Paul shot, without a single sign of good humour or joviality. Tommy let off a deep, throaty burp that was almost deafening, and unbelievably long. The sound and meaning behind it, gave Jimmy an instant erection, and he laughed encouragingly. 

Paul, on the other hand, seemed genuinely disgusted. “You’ve got to get a fucking grip, man!” he mumbled. “Take a damn shower!”

Tommy shrugged it off and they began playing, but Paul’s comments and criticisms were coming in thick and fast throughout the evening. Tommy seemed beaten down by the end of it, his mood flat and defensive as the evening drew to a close; arguing with Paul and debating the supposed need for him to do a little light exercise while his injury was healing. 

“Don’t get pissy with me, just because you’ve broken up with your girlfriend,” Tommy finally snapped when nothing else seemed to work.

Jimmy nodded. For the first time, he wished he could just shut Paul up. Tommy was having a little fun embracing a new, temporary lifestyle. What was so wrong about that?

On the other hand, Paul was hurt and not particularly in the best frame of mind to be socialising. It happened every time. He fell hard for girls, and when they disappointed him, he found it hard to pick himself back up again. 

However, Tommy was never going to embrace that secret side of himself with guys like Paul berating him the moment he stepped out of line. Jimmy thought hard on the matter all night, wondering what there was to do about this. He could hardly stop Paul from having his opinion on the matter, any more than he could sort out the guy’s love life for him. 

But, maybe, he thought, feeling more excited as the idea built up momentum in his mind. Maybe there was something he could do after all…

Edith was a beautiful girl, everyone knew that. Plus, she was now on the market for a ‘normal’ guy; someone away from her kinks and not her usual type. It was the most devious and cunning Jimmy had ever been, setting up situations for them to bump into each other and meet. He praised and upsold Edith or Paul in turn. But, best of all, it had worked like a charm. Before long, the ‘new girl’ Paul had taken an interest in, had suddenly become his girlfriend. 

“Paul’s not coming tonight,” Jimmy smiled, passing Tommy a beer and a pack of potato chips. “He’s out with Edith.”

Tommy chuckled, in the way all guys do when one of their buddies gets a new girlfriend. “So I spent twenty minutes cleaning up my room for nothing?” he joked, pulling more of his snacks out from his closet and scattering them on the floor for later. “At least I don’t need to pretend to be civilised in front of you,” he scoffed.

Jimmy gave a conspiratorial grin back. “No, but Carrie will be back in a couple of weeks. So, this whole slob thing you’ve got going on…” he pointed teasingly at Tommy, “...you may need to rethink it.”

“Oh, she’s already got an idea of what’s been going on whilst she’s been away,” Tommy laughed, dishing out the cards. “We video call a couple of nights a week. She thinks my face has gone fatter!”

Jimmy chuckled to himself, knowing that he was more than a little responsible for the extra puffiness to Tommy’s cheeks. It was subtle, but Carrie was certainly right; something was altered about Tommy’s face. “How do you think training is going to be when you have to go back to that?”

Tommy huffed. “I don’t know, man. I’ve hardly moved at all since the injury. It’ll probably take me some time to get back into it. No doubt Paul will have something to say about that…” he huffed, rolling his eyes.

“I wouldn’t worry so much about Paul,” Jimmy grinned. He was so proud of himself, setting the guy up with Edith. It took all of his effort not to boast about what a cunning bit of manipulative play he had achieved. Edith claimed that she was retired from being a feeder, but Jimmy knew better than that. The girl’s kinks were so deep and powerful; so ingrained and implicit, there was no way she would be able to restrain herself from working some of her magic on Paul. That was, after all, the genius of his plan.

“Why not?” Tommy questioned, sensing from Jimmy’s tone that there was more to the story. “You heard him, getting on his high horse about me not exercising.”

“Oh, nothing,” Jimmy replied coyly. “It’s just, you know, guys always gain a few pounds when they start a new relationship. Plus, according to Daryl, he’s already missed two training sessions this week. I wouldn’t bet on him being quite so sprightly by the time you’re both back on the pitch…”

Jimmy had to admit that, when he was right about something, he was really right. By the time Tommy’s injury was just about healed, the effects of dating a feeder for over a month were truly taking their toll on poor Paul. He seemed thicker somehow, like his face and stomach had been pumped with a little air, and his clothes seemed less complimentary than they had before. Not that Jimmy saw him all that often these days. The boy was besotted with his new girl, slowly drifting away from the dorm antics and more often found over in Edith’s building.

“You must be pleased with yourself,” Jimmy smirked as he popped in to see Edith. “I just passed Paul on the stairs…”

Edith looked away and pretended not to know about anything Jimmy was referring to, even trying to change the conversation. But as Jimmy pressed, she finally relented. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting to cook for my new boyfriend,” she explained, with only a mild hint of irritation in her voice.

“Oh, so that’s how you’re doing it? You’re feeding him those super fattening meals you used to make for Drake?” Jimmy laughed. “No wonder the poor boy is looking so bloated!”

Edith bit her bottom lip in the same manner that she always did when aroused. “You really think he’s looking bloated?” she asked excitedly.

“He seems pretty smitten by you,” Jimmy continued. “I doubt he’s even noticed how out of shape you’re making him.”

“I didn’t intend to do this,” Edith shot back in her defence. “It’s just, when he eats, I get so horny. And when I get horny, he gets horny. It’s created this strange cycle that I don’t think either of us completely understand.”

“Well, whatever it is you’re doing, keep doing it,” Jimmy encouraged, wickedly. “It’s about time some of the guys on that football team gained a few pounds.” He thought about Tommy and how much more relaxed he had become about his weight and eating habits. “And…” he continued, unable to help the grin coming to his face “...I’m hoping that one little porker might lead to another…”

Tommy had returned to football training full of determination, despite the surprisingly distended arch of his muscular middle. The boy had clearly been enjoying himself over the period. But, there he was now, dressed in his workout gear and ready to shed the pounds that he had gained since that fateful night in training last November; indulging himself as he had done. On a man as large as Tommy it was hard to tell what the damage could have been: thirty pounds, forty? Would the slight muscle loss counteract it? Would there be any difference on the scale at all?

“My, my, my! How the mighty have fallen!” Jimmy teased, seeing Tommy wincing a little as he trotted into the kitchen, holding his hip. “You’re like an old man!”

Tommy seemed incapable of answering until he’d sat himself down in the chair. Only then did his sparky wit return. “Shut up!” he chuckled. “Why don’t you come along to football training and then we’ll see how you cope? I’ve not been for nearly three months, remember.”

Unable to help himself, Jimmy reached in and poked Tommy’s stomach, squishing his finger into the surprisingly soft middle. “And you’d never guess either!” he teased sarcastically.

“Give me a couple of weeks and I’ll soon have this off,” Tommy stated with absolute certainty. “At least I’m better than Paul. He didn’t even show up last night. That girlfriend of his has got him wrapped around her little finger.”

Jimmy nodded in agreement. Edith was definitely having some fun with the boy. “Well, I don’t think you would be so desperate to get back in shape if you didn’t have Carrie nagging you.”

“She’s definitely made her feelings very clear,” Tommy mumbled, rubbing his meatier stomach.

“Exactly!” Jimmy nodded. “Imagine having someone who liked you having a little more padding on that butt of yours.”

Tommy jumped in confusion, not even taking in Jimmy’s subtle hint that Edith might have her own feeder tendencies. “My butt’s just the same!” he protested; too lazy to get up and feel it himself, despite an obvious inclination to do so.

Jimmy smiled and shook his head. “I’ve been feeding you doughnuts every day for months. Trust me, your butt is definitely feeling the effects…”

“You’re loving this, aren’t you?” Tommy smiled, shaking his head and chuckling.

“Of course I am,” Jimmy nodded, getting Tommy’s huge breakfast bowl from the cupboard and placing it down on the table in front of the sore athlete. He smiled, then tipped the huge box of sugary cereal inside, filling it with as much as he could. Tommy should have laughed, told him to stop, or pulled the bowl away; but he didn’t. Instead, he stared with interest directly into Jimmy’s eyes, quietly enjoying every second of it.

By the middle of Spring, Tommy was the campus hero. Despite Paul’s gradual abandonment of the squad, Tommy had single-handedly seen to it that the college football team had performed the most remarkable of turnarounds. From the bottom of the pack, the team were now comfortably sitting within the top quarter of the league, having not lost a game in three months. “Coach says, whatever I’m doing, I’ve just got to keep doing it!” Tommy grinned, getting himself a large tub of ice cream out of the freezer. 

You could really see it these days, that extra weight. The way Tommy’s cheeks puffed up, and the softening of his strong jawline. His body was built for football now. Even with a shirt on, it was obvious that the abs were long gone; replaced with a meaty stomach that gave him the appearance of a man a good few years older than he was. ‘Dadbod’ was the term his girlfriend used to describe it; for while his arms and shoulders advertised how strong and warrior-like Tommy was, his bloated, slightly arching middle spoke of a man with a considerable appetite.

But Tommy’s coach had learned, along with the rest of the team, that his star didn’t need to be built for speed. He just needed to be able to flatten the competition. Being big, strong and, most importantly, intimidating, was where Tommy’s true talents lay. That was why Carrie bit her tongue as Tommy dug his massive spoon into the ice cream. Jimmy could see it, that urge to stop him, to argue and complain at how easily her boyfriend was sliding into these bad habits. However, Tommy was also the best known guy on campus now; the guy that other guys looked up to, with an effortless masculinity that girls secretly loved. Being with Tommy gave Carrie what she desperately craved: to be seen as relevant in this strange student world. On a campus that was obsessed with the college football team, Tommy was Carrie’s gateway to being at the centre of their shared, dysfunctional universe.

As for Jimmy, he couldn’t have been more pleased, or turned on, by the unfolding transformation of one of his best friends. Tommy was such a sexy guy, but to see him packing on so much extra mass through his overeating… it sent Jimmy into overdrive whenever he was around him.

“Well, I never thought I would see the day that Paul would give up football. But, somehow, you managed it,” Jimmy chuckled as he had Edith alone with him for the first time in months.

Edith smiled sweetly at just the mention of Paul’s name. “We just don’t want to be parted from each other,” she stated with a sickening sweetness in her voice.

“Have you told him you’re making him fatter yet?” Jimmy asked, teasingly.

Edith frowned at Jimmy’s bluntness. “I’m not making him fatter,” she countered.

Jimmy laughed at that. “Well, you’re sure as hell doing something to the poor boy!” he pressed on. “I’ve never seen a pot belly develop so quickly!”

Despite herself, Edith gave a little smile. “I just like looking after him, that’s all. He loves how attentive I am. He says so himself! He tells everyone how perfect I am for him!”

“Does that mean you’re heading back with him to meet his folks this summer?” Jimmy asked her.

“Actually, he’s coming to spend the summer with me instead.”

Jimmy rolled his eyes theatrically but delighted in the plans nonetheless. “Oh, yes, of course!” he continued teasing his friend. “A whole summer to overfeed him! With you around, he’ll be waddling around campus by Fall!”

Edith brushed Jimmy’s comments away, knowing just as well as he did that Jimmy was simply jealous. He’d have done almost anything to have his own fat boy to overindulge. But Jimmy’s problem was a simple one: There was only one fat boy that he wanted.

The third year was in full swing before the boys all managed to get together. Already, Tommy had amassed a new following of freshers; young, muscular guys who wanted to join the football team and looked up to Tommy, with his massive height, muscle and bulk, like some sort of god. Jimmy noticed him eating lavishly in front of these guys, like he was showing off how ridiculously much he could eat and still be the best player on the team. He was still dating one of the hottest girls on campus and had friends in every corner of the university. What wasn’t there to be impressed with?

The boys were a rowdy bunch this year; overly excited by beer and the freedom to stay up partying. But without much effort at all, Tommy managed to out-do them all in pretty much any conceivable way. No one could come close to defeating him at an arm wrestle, or outwit him with their humour. Tommy knew more about football than any one of them and, to the guys’ astonishment, could take down more bottles of beer than any of them could even imagine.

The night was raucous and unruly. Jimmy cringed at the thought of those trying to sleep in the rooms above or below them, for the guys’ cheers and shouts went on well into the early hours; only ending when Tommy won his final beer chug of the night,sending the other guy off, racing for a bathroom to throw up in. 

Tommy looked up at Jimmy from his chair at the table. As usual, they were the last two standing; just as it had been since day one of their first year. They shared a smirk; the familiarity that they had built up together; always knowing that the evening would end up like this. “These guys just have no idea how to party, do they?” Tommy joked, staring around the now empty kitchen space at three in the morning. 

Jimmy hadn’t been this drunk since his first year. The room was only one shot away from spinning all around him. He stared, as if unable to control his gaze any longer, straight at Tommy’s gut. “Jeez! I’ve never seen you look so fucking fat and bloated before!” he heard himself marvel.

Tommy chuckled in delight and slapped his tight, solid middle, packed full of the beer and snacks he had ruthlessly been consuming the entire evening. “Beer does a belly good!” he joked back, rubbing the ball-like shape and looking down at it with a masculine pride.

“No, seriously,” Jimmy pressed, sensing that Tommy was making light of it. “Your belly… it’s getting huge! I think it’s now growing beyond even your control!”

Tommy looked up, directly into Jimmy’s eyes. “Oh, yeah?” he smiled, undoubtedly encouraging Jimmy to go on. “What makes you say that?”

“It’s just…” Jimmy began, unable to contain that breathless lust in his voice as he spoke, “...you’re getting so fucking round!”

Tommy grinned and rubbed his gut, as if teasing Jimmy with something he could never have. “Two hundred and ninety pounds!” he whispered, almost seductively. But the rubbing was clearly upsetting the balance somewhere, making Tommy sit up, open his jaws and give off the most tremendous burp; as if it had been building and waiting the entire evening to be unleashed. When he was done, the man leaned back, looking more smug than ever before.

“You think you’re so clever, don’t you?” Jimmy teased. “But, judging by what I’ve seen tonight: the amount of food and beer you’ve taken down, the fact that you hardly got off your overfed ass all night… I’d say you’re only a few months away from being too fat to even play football.”

The comment seemed to catch Tommy by surprise and the self-satisfied smirk dropped off his face entirely.

Jimmy moved closer, emboldened by the alcohol coursing through his system, and stabbed an outstretched finger into Tommy’s gut, bloated and hard from the sheer quantities that had been consumed. Tommy simply watched him, his face expressionless but for the raising of a single, unimpressed eyebrow. All evening he had been respected like a king by the other athletes. Now, here was this skinny, jumped-up gay guy stabbing him in his gut and telling him how fat he was getting. “Definitely!” Jimmy nodded. “A few more months of this and you’re getting kicked off the team, for sure!”

“You think I’m just going to turn into some fat boy?” Tommy asked, unable to hide the slight spark of excitement in his voice.

“Oh. you’re already a fat boy!” Jimmy teased, poking a finger into Tommy’s stomach fat once again, but also fishing out his cell phone to find something he had stored on there. “I found a picture the other day. It’s what I think you’re going to look like in a couple of years from now; when college is over and your football days are long behind you. It’ll just be you and that awesome, greedy appetite of yours…”

With that, Jimmy turned around his cell phone to show Tommy the image. It had taken months time to find it online; one of the exact pictures he had seen on Tommy’s computer, of a ginormous overweight guy: ball-bellied, wide and at least five hundred pounds of pure blubber.

Tommy’s reaction was immediate. His eyes bulged to an enormous size as he took in the picture that he knew so well. He made a noise that seemed entirely out of his control: part moan of pleasure, part expression of absolute shock. His hands twitched, with both of them sliding onto his thighs and getting dangerously close to his crotch.

“You think that’s what I’m going to become?” Tommy asked. His voice was so much softer and lust-filled than Jimmy had ever heard it.

“There’s no doubt in my mind,” Jimmy grinned, leaning in a little more to whisper into Tommy’s ear. “And I can’t fucking wait to see it!”

Another moan escaped from Tommy’s throat and the boy suddenly turned, grabbing the front of Jimmy’s shirt to pull him down into him. Their lips puckered and they shared the most erotic and action-packed kiss either of them had ever experienced. Almost two years of sexual tension and the pair of them were moving fast, pushing their tongues deeply into the other’s mouth. Hands were roaming everywhere and it was only when Tommy stood up that Jimmy could once again appreciate the scale of the man he had just seduced. They continued madly kissing as they left the kitchen, heading straight for Jimmy’s room, which was two doors closer down the corridor. 

Tommy seemed to be the one leading it all. Once safely inside, the pair stripped down to nothing at all and fell down onto Jimmy’s single bed. 

The alcohol fuddled Jimmy’s memory from that point onwards.From what he could remember of the sex, he came pretty hard. Tommy did too, judging by the moans he was making. Led by Tommy, it had been fairly unimaginative; a typical straight guy, deciding to head straight to the sixty-nine position and stay there until they both came. The feeling sent them both to sleep very soon afterwards, and after only a couple of hours of rest, Jimmy awoke to find that Tommy had already gone. 

It hadn’t been a dream though, Jimmy realised with a sudden erection at the memories of what had taken place. He could still smell the enormous football player on his sheets and remembered the feeling of his impressive hardness in his mouth. He came at least twice more, before drifting back off to sleep until lunchtime.

Jimmy was determined that it wouldn’t be awkward. Tommy’s disappearance in the middle of the night was not the best of signs, and Jimmy wasn’t naive enough to believe that Tommy would suddenly leave Carrie, quit football and want to be with him full-time. The best he could hope for was that Tommy wouldn’t do the typically embarrassed tactic of ignoring him altogether. That was why he didn’t give the guy a chance to even try it. He burst into the kitchen with a smile on his face, chatting with everyone and treating Tommy in just the same way as he always did. “Eating again, I see…” he teased in front of everyone. “You’re going to cause an earthquake the next time you go for a goal!” 

If Tommy had seemed sheepish at all, Jimmy’s breezy, laid back approach hopefully demonstrated that, in his view, nothing had changed between them. But of that, he was completely wrong. Everything had changed.

“I’ve got a whole cheesecake in my room,” Tommy messaged Jimmy one evening later that week.

“Good for you,” Jimmy replied back, smiling with the knowledge of why Tommy was telling him, and what he was probably thinking about doing about it.

“Come over and feed it to me,” Tommy messaged back instantly. “Carrie’s not coming here tonight.”

Leaving his essay work, Jimmy checked himself in the mirror, frowning at how unruly his short hair had been that day. He opened his door and crept across the corridor, seeing that Tommy had left his own door open to save him having to knock. Music was playing  at a decent volume; heavy metal with deep, manly voices growling out of the speakers. Jimmy laughed when he saw the size of the huge cheesecake and the excited, horny grin on Tommy’s face. They kissed as soon as the door was closed, which allowed Jimmy to feel just how turned on and delighted the large athlete was to be doing this.

The big man slipped off his shirt and practically bounced onto the bed. He’d already padded up his pillows against the headboard, and as he sat up, waiting expectantly, the most delicious roll of fat fell over the buckle of his belt.

“Come feed me!” Tommy sang. He pinched the softened, most blubbery part of his belly fat, jiggling it gently. “Make my fat belly grow!”

Jimmy grinned and removed his own shirt, pleased that Tommy made a sound of appreciation as he did so. Picking up the plate with the enormous cheesecake on, Jimmy sat himself down straight onto Tommy’s crotch. He could feel how hard the guy was but decided not to comment, for his own arousal was clearly obvious and his heart was beating a mile a minute with the anticipation of what would come next.

It started in a fairly civilised manner. Jimmy dug the fork in and delivered chunks of the extremely fattening dessert straight into Tommy’s open mouth. Each time, Tommy moaned with pleasure and smiled as if he had been waiting for a moment such as this his entire life. The conversation was almost normal, with Tommy explaining about football training and other scandalous news about some of the guys they both knew.

“Well, I certainly feel like I’m doing my bit for the team right now,” Jimmy chuckled, placing another chunk of the cheesecake directly onto Tommy’s tongue.

“What you’re doing is pretty much the opposite of what the team needs,” Tommy chuckled back, enjoying that fact. “You said it yourself; you want to make me too fat to play football at all!”

Jimmy smirked. “I did say something like that, didn’t I?” he teased, trying to push through the fog of memories from their night together. “I don’t understand why you keep playing. Just quit and get fat if that’s what you want?”

“My dad was the one who got me into football,” Tommy explained. “I was a greedy kid; always eating. He told me he didn’t want the embarrassment of having a fatty for a son, so he tried to channel me into sport instead.” A cheeky, boyish smile filled Tommy’s face as he grabbed his fresh, soft belly fat and gave it another little jiggle. “It was a good short-term fix!”

As Jimmy sat over Tommy’s crotch, he could feel the guy’s hardness throb as their conversation returned once more to his inevitable fattening. “So, you’re absolutely serious then? You really do want to get properly big and fat?”

Tommy moaned once again and inhaled deeply, as if Jimmy’s words both excited and calmed him at the same time. “More than anything!” he nodded. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted, for as long as I can remember.”

Jimmy simply nodded back, deciding that Tommy didn’t need to know that he had hacked into his computer and found the pictures of the massively obese guys Tommy had been dreaming about becoming. “Well, in that case…” he smirked, throwing the fork down. “I think we need to get serious about this cheesecake!”

Tommy's eyes were wide with awe as he watched Jimmy dig his hand into the dessert and scoop it into his palm. He seemed to know what was coming next, as Jimmy moved his hand closer to Tommy’s obediently open mouth and pushed it inside, being sure to smear some over the boy’s lips.

Tommy moaned louder still. “Mmm! Yes!” he mumbled. “Feed me!”

It was the best game Jimmy had ever played. Each time, he tried to get more and more into his hand. He pushed it onto the horny boy and sat back waiting the few seconds it took Tommy to get it down. Jimmy expected Tommy to start tiring, but it seemed as if the opposite was happening. The smaller the remaining cake became, the hungrier the man seemed to become for it, and the more excited he was to finish.

Feeling how hard Tommy was beneath him, Jimmy knew exactly what he wanted to do. Taking off his pants and sliding protection and lubricant onto Tommy’s raging boner, Jimmy didn’t resume the feeding until he was sat directly on Tommy’s erection and could feel the big guy inside of him. Now Tommy’s eyes were closed, as if he was barely able to function with this much pleasure pulsing through his body.

Just like last time, Jimmy knew it wouldn’t take Tommy long to come. He’d already had to slow down his riding movement in order to prevent the athlete getting overly excited before the cheesecake was finished. Only once the final crumbs were being sprinkled on Tommy’s face, did Jimmy finally work his butt to make Tommy finish. The boy groaned and moaned like he was almost in pain; the intensity of the orgasm must have been so very much for him. His body seemed to writhe and the man even lifted his strong hips clean off the bed, with Jimmy too, just as the pleasure was peaking. 

“You did well,” Jimmy smiled, climbing off and getting his clothes back on.

“Thanks,” said an utterly spent Tommy, sprawled on his bed, with remnants of the cheesecake still smeared across his face, like he was some sort of gluttonous clown.

Jimmy had no intention of lingering. He couldn’t think of anything worse than the awkward, post-orgasm chit chat to finish the evening. Better to head off now and leave the moment as it was. “Well, give me a call the next time you need stuffing,” he smiled.

“I will,” Tommy promised, still not getting up and simply lying there like his stomach was a lead weight. But then the man seemed to come to life a little and he said something that Jimmy was not expecting in the slightest: “How about next Tuesday?”

It was strange, and Jimmy wasn’t sure that anyone would have believed him if he said it, but his new, highly sexual relationship with Tommy hadn’t changed things in the slightest; not outwardly at least. It was like living in two separate worlds: one where Tommy was just an ordinary buddy, and another where they would sneak over to each others’ rooms to indulge in their shared kinks. Tommy was still the campus hero, and although his stomach did swell slightly over the first half of the year, it wasn’t so dramatic that people were talking about it, and it hadn’t stopped him from being an absolute bulldozer on the field.

If Jimmy reflected back on that time, the first weekend after the holidays had been his absolute favourite. Tommy had arrived back in college carrying a few extra pounds. When he took his shirt off, the fat was obvious in his love handles and stomach. For the first time, it was starting to really jiggle as Tommy walked and the feeling was obviously turning him on more than ever. His kinks were being turned up into superdrive. He’d taken more risks, feeling Jimmy up in the kitchen the moment they were alone together; almost enjoying the thrill of nearly being caught. He wanted time with Jimmy; real time, not just a rushed hour at the end of an evening when there was nothing else to do. “Pretend that you’re ill this weekend so no one expects you to go out. Just stay in your room. I’m going to tell Carrie and the rest of the guys that I’m heading home for the weekend.”

Jimmy could feel how impossibly hard Tommy’s erection was as he pushed his hips up against him and concocted the sneaky plan.

“I want you to feed me all weekend. Don’t stop until my gut looks ready to explode!” he whispered, suddenly needing to pull away as he heard one of the guys coming down into the kitchen area. Tommy turned his back to them, pretending to be looking for something in the cupboard so that they didn’t spot the huge bulge in his pants. When the person who had walked in wasn’t looking, he turned to Jimmy and nodded his head, silently asking if he was up for it.

Jimmy nodded back; his head already filing with ideas for the things he wanted to do. In that moment, his heart felt ready to burst. A whole weekend with Tommy! He gazed at that big, beefy, muscular butt and swooned. This weekend, it would all be his!

The quiet knock at the door came at about seven o’clock that Friday evening. Tommy strolled into the room, determined that no one should see or hear him. He carried a large bag, as if he really was heading home for the weekend. His face was full of excitement and he bent down to unzip it before he had even stopped to properly greet Jimmy. The guy had obviously been stocking up all week, for it was full to the brim with snacks and treats of the most fattening and delicious kind, alongside his weight gain powders and a pair of bathroom scales. 

Jimmy chuckled, for he too had been preparing all week as well. Under his bed were a whole load of similar items and the refrigerator in the kitchen was just as packed.

“Mmm! I’m such a spoiled piggy!” Tommy swooned, pulling Jimmy in for the most romantic of smooches. It was the most relaxed kiss they had ever shared, with no time limits or concerns. “Shall we watch a movie?”

As the hours ticked by, it became harder and harder to concentrate on anything other than Tommy’s insane capacity. It was only Friday and already the greedy guy had already put a serious dent in the stash of food. With each mouthful, the pair of them got more and more turned on. Jimmy wanted nothing more than to tear off their clothes and go at it, but he knew that this was all important foreplay, and an opportunity for Tommy to see what he was really capable of. He allowed himself the chance to slip his hand under Tommy’s t-shirt and rub that slowly swelling middle; stopping occasionally to pinch the softer love handles at the sides. Tommy seemed to appreciate it, moaning softly and bringing his sugary lips over to meet Jimmy’s.

It was only when Tommy really started to feel the strain that they both became incapable of holding back. Jimmy found himself down in Tommy’s crotch, trying to give the slowest and most erotic blow job of his life. He could see Tommy spasming occasionally and breathing heavily as he continued to gorge himself. 

The time marched on and still neither of them had come. Jimmy snuck into the kitchen for more supplies, mixing up a calorie shake for Tommy to sip on during a short break. The breaks were important; Tommy had a typically masculine bravado, not wanting to show any weakness or sign that he was getting full. Instead, Jimmy had to be in tune with him, picking up those signs when it was time to pause.

It was gone midnight by the time they were far too horny to do anything but come. Jimmy sat up and lowered his butt down onto Tommy’s crotch, wincing only slightly as the heavy guy’s thick erection entered him. It was the way tonight was always going to end; the position that Tommy had grown to love best, as he lay there, fat and bloated and watching Jimmy ride him like a bull. It also left at least one of Jimmy’s hands free to continue pressing doughnuts into Tommy’s greedy and surprisingly submissive mouth, as he was brought closer and closer to the edge. It played out with incredible effectiveness, but also worked perfectly to muffle the sounds of Tommy’s moans when he came at last, opening his eyes wide, almost in fear at the intensity of the orgasm he was experiencing. 

That night, they would lie together for the first time, holding each other on that cramped single bed, more content than they had ever been in their lives.

Unlike the prolonged and intimate sex of the Friday night, Saturday was filled with several rounds of kinkiness, in multiple different positions. The day was about pure indulgence in every single way imaginable. The two chatted for hours about anything and everything, discussed their shared kinks and inevitably fell back into each other's arms. They binged on tv shows and movies, as their bodies recharged ready for the inevitable next round. 

Jimmy had been intrigued by Tommy’s quietly submissive side and was rather surprised when his suggestion of using an old pair of handcuffs for the next feeding went down extraordinarily well. With his hands behind his back and bulging tummy out, Tommy ate with incredible enthusiasm; his crotch highlighting just how arousing the situation was for him. It allowed Jimmy to learn a little more about how to play to Tommy’s desires: the words that he liked, the teasing that brought him the most pleasure. In fact, the whole experience worked incredibly well for them both, with a repeated, longer session playing out the very next day.

The pair came for the very last time that weekend as Tommy stepped on his scales and saw the numbers climb up to three hundred and twenty-two pounds. Even though he was stuffed and artificially bloated with food, he had never before seen the scales read so high. It sent them both into a frenzy of lust as they both came, gazing at the reflection of Tommy’s thick and overfed form in the long mirror.

The whole weekend had been the best time of Jimmy’s life and he felt himself becoming incredibly sad as he watched Tommy getting dressed to leave; the large underwear sliding back onto his overfed, bulbous butt for the first time since Friday night. Carrie had been messaging him throughout the day to ask when he would be back and Tommy could delay her no more. He thanked Jimmy for everything in the most genuine and heartfelt manner imaginable, then slipped out, back into the real world once more.

“Carrie wants us to spend Spring Break with her folks,” Tommy grumbled. “It’s my last year in college and that’s what she wants to do. I might as well sign up to become a monk! I’m a three hundred and twenty pound guy and her family all eat like a bunch of rabbits. I’m going to be fucking starving!” He looked at Jimmy, knowing full well that he would have considerably better plans for himself. 

He wasn’t wrong. Jimmy had it all mapped out, from start to finish: parties, bars, clubs and street events with plenty of people, from several of the social groups he was mixed up with here at college.

“You’re welcome to ditch Carrie and come along with me instead?” Jimmy asked, hopefully.

Tommy didn’t take the bait. The casual nature of their arrangement had been fine for Jimmy up until then.  But, as the months went by and the pair of them were still sneaking around behind Carrie’s back, Jimmy was starting to feel a little confused by it all. The way Tommy talked about his girlfriend sometimes, he wasn’t even convinced that the guy even liked her. They certainly didn’t have anything in common. So, why hadn’t he ended things? 

Jimmy didn’t need Tommy to come out and announce their love to the entire campus, but having Carrie gone would have made things so much easier for them. They wouldn’t have had to wait until the nights when Carrie didn’t go to see Tommy, or fake going home for a weekend, just so that they could spend some time together. Tommy had told him how satisfied Jimmy made him, and how no one else on the planet had ever been able to make him come like Jimmy could. The pair could chat for hours and were alike in so many ways, yet it was Carrie who got to call Tommy her own.

“Seriously, forget Carrie and come along,” Jimmy tried, pressing a little harder. “I’ve found some awesome eating places and there will be so much beer on offer, there’s no chance you won’t be packing on at least a couple more pounds…” He rubbed Tommy’s belly in the way that he liked most, highlighting the curvaceous smoothness of it and patting where they both knew it had become the softest.

Tommy smiled wickedly. “I like that idea!” he chuckled, giving Jimmy a kiss. “But Carrie’s my girlfriend,” he stated, turning to look seriously at him. “I mean… for now at least.”

Jimmy adored these little hints that Tommy would one day finish with Carrie. He lived and breathed off them. They gave him life, and an opportunity to plan out a future that he could one day have with the man of his dreams.

“So, I suppose I’d best do what she wants; as much as I’ll hate it!” Tommy added.  “Otherwise, I’ll never hear the end of it!”

“Sorry, I had hoped to clean up a little before you came over, “ Edith explained, quickly scurrying around to pick up a load of Paul’s things, as well as food packaging, plates and cups. Jimmy hadn’t seen Paul in weeks, but he eyed the guy’s empty pants draped over the end of Edith’s bed and his eyes boggled at what appeared to be a fairly considerable waist size on them.

“Things are still going good with Paul then?” he asked, watching Edith try to make space in her room.

“Oh, yes!” Edith gushed. “We’re putting a deposit down on a little apartment for when we finish college. “I’m getting a job with my Aunt’s company. Paul is moving to be with me, and so that he can look for work too.”

“That’s great,” Jimmy replied, feeling that pit of dread and jealousy in his stomach. The end of college was approaching so fast now and he hadn’t made any plans at all yet. 

Getting a job, renting somewhere, these were all issues he could deal with. But what about his relationship with Tommy? What was going to happen there? Would it all just… fizzle out? He couldn’t think of anything worse. 

“So, is Paul going to be living the life of luxury when you’re earning a wage?” His eyes kept travelling back to those empty pants on the end of the bed. Just how big were they?

Jimmy listened to it all, until he could hardly take any more. He’d never heard Edith so gushing and almost smug. She painted a perfect picture of their life together and how it would unfold. Jimmy should have been happy for her, but the insecurities inside felt like a nest of rats gnawing away at him from the inside. “Alright, alright!” he grumbled after he’d finally lost his patience when Edith started talking about how her and Paul had even discussed getting married. “Your life is perfect. I get it!”

Edith was silent and clearly offended. “I’m sorry if I’m boring you,” she shot back sarcastically.

Jimmy sighed, trying to get a handle on his sudden anger. “No, you’re not boring me,” he began, apologetically. “It’s just…” he started, wanting to tell Edith everything about his secret relationship with Tommy. For months, years, he hadn’t told a soul about any of the things he had learned, or how their friendship had evolved into the beautifully frustrating love affair that it was today.  He took a breath to begin, when the sight of Paul’s pants caught his attention once more.

Getting up from his seat, Jimmy marched across the room and unfolded them, searching for the label inside that would tell him what size they were.

“What are you doing?” Edith complained, snatching her boyfriend’s pants from Jimmy in annoyance. 

“You’ve got Paul in 40” pants?” Jimmy spat, in shock, awe and disgust. “You’re talking about marrying the poor guy, convincing him that you love him, and he doesn’t even know that you’re purposefully just trying to make him fat? You should be ashamed of yourself!” He marched once more across the room to the door, until Edith’s loud and angry voice made him stop.

“Is that really what you think?” she asked. “You think I could make this sort of connection with someone without him knowing about this side of me?”

Jimmy was silent.

“Of course he knows. It took him about two weeks of dating me before he figured out I was into larger guys. I’m not exactly subtle, and everyone knows I was dating Drake before him.”

“He knows?” Jimmy asked, flabbergasted by the revelation. “So he’s getting bigger for you on purpose?”

Edith shook her head. “No. He’s not into it in that way. But he likes seeing me turned on and doesn’t mind eating extra calories a few days a week if it makes me happy. He accepts me for who I am… warts and all!”

Jimmy felt terrible. Now he could see why Edith was so happy. Her relationship really was perfect; not a secret between them. “I’m sorry,” he spluttered, realising how much of an idiot he had made of himself, “I didn’t realise. I didn’t mean to… I’m just stressed out because… if I’m honest, there’s this guy…”

“Well, I’m just glad that I can finally see what you really think of me,” Edith shouted, not interested in the slightest about hearing what he had to say; opening the door widely and not closing it again until Jimmy was on the other side of it.

Everywhere Jimmy went, people were buzzing about finishing college. Tommy’s final football game was coming up and, between training and Carrie, Jimmy hadn’t had the chance to be intimate with him in some time. He’d lost weight; Jimmy could see it in Tommy’s face, making him feel even more insecure; as if he was starting to lose track of Tommy completely.

“I got on to that work experience placement in the UK,” explained a girl from the floor below as they all started talking about the summer. “There were a few of us who applied from this college and, amazingly, two of us got on!”

“Oh, my buddy Tommy was interested in doing that,” Jimmy nodded. “He didn’t apply in the end though. His girlfriend was dead against it,” he sighed, never hiding his dislike of Carrie these days.

“Tommy from upstairs?” asked the girl, spreading her arms out to imitate Tommy’s extreme muscular bulk.. “No, he applied. He was successful too. We’re actually going together; working for a multinational finance company in London!”

The girl squeaked in excitement at her own good fortune, but Jimmy jumped straight in on her, lunging like a tiger. “Tommy’s going to work in London for a year?” he questioned sharply, feeling a rush of shock. How did he not know this? “But what about his girlfriend? Tommy said she wasn’t willing to let him go!”

“Who? Do you mean that girl, Carrie?” she asked. “They broke up, like a month ago.”

“Tommy and Carrie broke up?” Jimmy blasted, stunning the girls around him with a sudden increase in volume. 

“Where the hell have you been?” one of the other girls laughed. “How did you not know? That’s such old news.”

Jimmy felt cold at the idea that he had been lied to by Tommy. Only last night he had sent a message asking the guy when he was free to hang out; quickly dismissed by Tommy, claiming that he was spending time with Carrie. But why? What was going on? Had things changed between them? 

All those insecurities boiled within him. At first he felt angry. Then he felt sad and confused. But there was only one person who could give him the answers he so desperately needed.

Tommy’s room was already looking bare. The posters had been ripped from the walls and most of his things were in boxes. He was leaving tomorrow, missing the last game of the season, and this was the first Jimmy was hearing about it!

“So who ended it? You, or her?” Jimmy asked. He’d promised himself that he wouldn’t get upset, but already he could feel his voice cracking.

“She did,” Tommy finally admitted, accepting that his lies had been uncovered. “You know what Carrie’s like. Now college is ending, she doesn’t want to be tethered to someone who isn’t any use to her anymore.”

“I know how that feels,” Jimmy cried. “I’m no use to you either, now that you’re off to the UK. So you just thought you’d lie and ignore me for weeks?” He took a deep breath and suddenly realised Tommy’s motives all along. “You were never really into Carrie, were you?” he asked accusingly. “She was just a useful excuse to keep me at bay. To stop me from trying to make things more serious between us. Go on, admit it!” he demanded.

Tommy was silent. 

That was all Jimmy needed. In a simple, heartbreaking moment, all of his worst fears and dreadful suspicions were confirmed. All the late night doubts and lonely thoughts that he had ever conjured in his mind, they were all accurate. He’d been used and discarded like a piece of trash. Tommy didn’t really love him. This whole affair, it was nothing more than a game to him.

“Look,” Tommy said flatly, no longer able to even look at him. “You and me… it’s just… not going to happen, Jimmy. I can’t be that fat guy you want. They’re fantasies, Jimmy! Nothing more. I’m finishing college with what’s likely to be a very mediocre degree and I need to make something of myself. I can’t just be your plaything for the rest of my life.”

The words cut through Jimmy like a knife. He felt foolish and embarrassed; then angry that Tommy was pinning it all on him; as if all of this had been driven solely by Jimmy’s desires and not his. As if Tommy was just an innocent bystander in all of it. He opened his mouth to retaliate but could already sense that he wasn’t going to be able to make it through a sentence without tears streaming down his face. He’d never forgive himself for making a spectacle of himself at this moment. He’d already been made to look like enough of a fool. Instead, he turned and did not look back. Not once.

And so, that was the very last memory Jimmy had of his greatest love affair. He left Tommy standing by his door, watching him return to his room. One final, bitter goodbye.

[bluegarners]

Hi!! I was wondering if you had any Talon!Dick headcannons :)) By the way, I LOVE your writing!!!

Ahhhhh thank you sooo much, darling anon!! That means so much to me 🥺💙

Now, I’m unsure if I’ll be doing this correctly, but I do believe I have a few head-cannons! Here goes~

As Talon, Dick is often mistaken for being a meta-human with flight like abilities. He still subconsciously uses his acrobatic abilities in fighting, the famous quadruple flip giving him away, and his “Flying Grayson” origin and knack for flinging himself off tall buildings gives the illusion that he can fly. If he hurts himself after landing from leaping from tall buildings, it doesn’t show because of his tolerance for pain and his healing abilities, adding to the illusion of flight where no such thing exists

Dick is highly competitive to the point of bordering obsessional. Perfection was everything to the Court, and if one did not succeed flawlessly, than it was considered a failure, no matter the outcome. When he is rescued from the Court and introduced into more familial settings, Dick subconsciously competes with everyone to be the best at everything, including, but not limited to: fighting (there is no such thing as sparring, if he is swept off his feet, then he is a failure opponent; arguing also falls into that category, but he always ends up feeling worse when he feels like he’s won), target practice (darts are the Batfams least favorite boredom game because of Dick’s uncanny and unnatural ability to be so precise [he once pinned a mosquito to the board standing twelve feet away]) , memorization (no one likes to play card games with him either because he knows exactly which cards have been played and also likely knows the cards everyone else is holding), baking (he once tried to out-do Alfred and it was then that Dick experienced his first failure when it came to baking a scone; his always came out too hard), and pranking (he studies everyone very closely, looks for the very thing that ticks someone off, and when challenged, he is merciless in pursing the perfect trick to annoy them for days but leave no lasting harm)

Dick was trained to understand people and how they work, think, and plan. He understands human flaws and weaknesses probably more than anyone else, purely because he himself is so deeply flawed and recognizes this. However, he was never taught how to interact or understand animals. The first time Titus licked his hand, he spent hours researching what it meant (he was too confused and embarrassed to ask anyone because he knows that isn’t normal) and was left stunned for days when he came to the conclusion that it meant affection. When Alfred the cat leaps into his lap and purrs, and he again looks up what this means, Dick is overwhelmed at the undeserved friendliness he is receiving. As a Talon, Dick had had to earn everything in his life, including trust. He had never been given that without having to do something for it. Now, Dick takes every opportunity he can to keep that trust the animals have placed unto him (see: buying and feeding them treats, brushing their fur, giving them gentle affection)

Dick has great interest in things like skin-care appliances. The Court had only ever allowed him a bar of soap to wash the blood away, and he had never truly needed anything else, but when Steph gives him a bottle of lotion because “his skin looks ashy enough to make snow”, he finds he can’t stop lathering himself in it. His skin has always felt rough to the touch; callouses formed over the years of labor and hilts of sharp blades in his grasp. After a week of usage, Dick marvels at the fact that his hands feel soft. It is the first time he has ever thought of himself as being anything but hardened and ruined, and bath & body works quickly becomes an online shopping favorite

Sometimes, Dick forgets where he is. He’s still adjusting to “normal life”, outside and away from the Court. The Court was easy in the way that he never had to truly expect anything new. He walked the same hallways, the same rooms, the same sewer paths all his life; walls bare, plain, and white with only his reflection and the screeching cries of the Courts victims to decorate it. So, when he moves into the Manor, visits the Cave, and sees each wall covered in mirrors, pictures, clocks, trinkets, and little ornaments, he memorizes each placement and finds his way from there. But on cleaning days, when Alfred reorganizes, or when something gets broken and removed, Dick gets lost within his own head and searches in vain for land-markers and tells he was sure was once there. He knows that Bruce’s bedroom is down the hallway with the double mirror and portrait of a woman wearing deep blue, but how can he be sure when the portrait disappears one day and is replaced by a stool and some flowers? Surely he must be confusing things because Tim’s study is right across from the library door, which is always open and has a brass doorknob, but is that really true when the door with the brass handle is actually closed? There are two sets of stairs, one that leads into the kitchen and one that leads out to the back of the Manor, but Dick can’t tell the two sets apart anymore because the banisters got polished and he could only tell which was which because the one to the kitchen had a scuff mark on it from when Damian slid down its railing once. On those days, where everything and nothing is the same, Dick sits down in the middle of the floor and waits for someone to find him. Whoever finds him, and they always do, always look sad. He can’t quite understand why, but he’s just happy he’s not lost anymore

Every time Dick dreams, he feels the strong need to tell someone about them and keeps a journal to help him remember them. Because of the electrum serum administered to him since he was young, the element largely took care of every human weakness Dick ever had, including the physical need to sleep. The Court only ever took him out of cryo when he was needed to assassinate, and even then, every waking moment was spent training, learning, and traveling from place to place to do the Parliament’s bidding. When he is rescued, and for the first time ever given the choice to just sleep and do nothing, Dick dreams for the first time. It startles him because the dream felt very real, almost like a memory, but it’s horribly difficult to recall and he panics because memory-relapse and loss is scary when he knows he’s supposed to recall things perfectly. Jason ends up suggesting that Dick to keep a dream journal, as he too has trouble remembering what is a dream and what is a memory; the Lazerous Pit and being dead certainly did things to the brain surrounding remembrance. It helps to ease his anxiety, even if writing down “nightmares” (as everyone calls them) leaves him feeling worse than before

[louiseleblancdiggory]

okay but what about a 'The Way I Loved You' by TS Au for Rowaelin with Punk!Rowan?? pretty please??

A/N: The way I rushed to post this. I have a bunch of fanfics to write before October is over, and now that I’m finally not sick anymore, I’ve been trying to rush and write them but this prompt.....

The Way I Loved You

--

“So I’ll pick you up at seven, right?”

Aelin smiled, nodding. “Yeah, seven is perfect.”

Chaol smiled back, putting a hand on her back as he bent down to kiss her. Even though she knew she shouldn’t, Aelin tensed slightly. She had been dating Chaol for three months now, and it wasn’t that kissing him made her uncomfortable, it was just different.

For two and a half years, she had been used to kissing a different guy.

A guy she could feel the stare at the back of her head.

Chaol withdrew, still smiling at her. Aelin forced a smile to appear on her lips, giving him a quick peck on the lips before taking a step back. She needed to go to her class, and even though she didn’t let herself turn around to confirm, she knew Rowan was still staring at her.

Part of her could understand the staring. They had broken up four months ago, and Aelin rushed to find someone new. Not to throw it at his face that she could, but just because she had felt so fucking bad at the end of their relationship, that she figured that the best cure was to jump right back at another one. It kinda worked most of the time. The other part of her, the part that felt like the solution wasn’t working out perfectly, wished he would just start ignoring her existence. Would stop looking at her, being in the same room that she was.

Preferably, stop being in the same continent that she was.

As she left the senior lounge— pointedly not looking back— she let her mind wander to months and months back when all this tension didn’t exist. Aelin had known Rowan since forever. He had been at her class from elementary school until high school, and she knew that they were also going to the same college when they graduated in two months. Until sophomore year of high school, though, Aelin had never exchanged more than three words with him. They had been different at everything their entire lives, and so both never showed any interest in having a single conversation with one another. In elementary school, while Aelin focused on the art classes, Rowan only ever showed a human reaction during music class. In middle school while she was part of every single club she could find, Rowan had been too busy avoiding every club that could find him. In high school, while Aelin dedicated her life to her grades, being cheer captain and part of the volleyball team, Rowan simply worked towards paying off his motorcycle, working at Lorcan’s dad’s mechanic shop, and almost getting arrested every now and then.

Honestly, it had been a miracle that they even knew about each other’s existence.

The only reason they actually met was because of Chemistry. Aelin had absolute no interest in the subject, but since her mother had been bothering her to take it, she relented during her second year of high school. As she had chosen to take it in advanced placement, they had a whole period of the normal class plus the addition of half a period of laboratory. To her chagrin at the time, she got paired up for the labs with the single person in the whole class she wasn’t friends with.

Rowan fucking Whitethorn.

She found some comfort in realizing that he was just as excited to work with her as she was to work with him, but since he was always polite during the labs, she didn’t find a reason to dislike him. He was coldly neutral, and, surprisingly, a fucking genius. If it hadn’t been for him, Aelin would have bombed every single lab, quiz and test they had in that godforsaken class.

Despite both of their reputations, Aelin found out that she had more in common with him than it looked, and that she also liked him a lot more than she would have ever thought. When comfortable around people, he was actually pretty chill and funny. One of the biggest things that made her befriend him, though, was the fact that he didn’t fucking care about anything that didn’t concern him. Rumors? He was too busy for that. Reputations? Nope. Social status? Couldn’t care less.

While so many people in the school saw her as an athletic bimbo, Rowan met her with absolute 0 preconceptions because he never fucking cared about them. Since the beginning, he met Aelin for who she really was, and not the person everyone at the school had a different perception of.

Maybe this was one of the reasons she fell so deeply in love with him.

Things had been normalish. They didn’t know about each other, they met, became friends and then started dating. Nothing too out of the ordinary.

The dating though.

Dating Rowan had been… wild. Not in the bad sense, no. It had been like a roller-coaster all the time. Like driving down an empty highway at 150 per hour, windows open, and screaming your lungs out. It had been fun, and it had made her feel so alive that she could still feel it when she closed her eyes. It had made her blood boil, every single nerve jump. And yet, at the same time, being with him never made her feel so calm, so comfortable. Rowan was what shook her world, but also what made her feel steady.

Loving Rowan Whitethorn had been the biggest adventure of her life.

Their relationship had been the perfect mixture of actual love and burning passion.

The passion was sometimes almost blinding, and it made her do things she would have never though she’d have the courage to do. Rowan encouraged her to push her limits— always safely, he’d make sure of that—, and Aelin enjoyed her life to the maximum. They went on a trip across the east coast on his motorcycle during the summer, went bungee jumping at the neighboring state to celebrate his birthday, and skydiving to celebrate hers. Aelin had asked her dad once, at two in the morning, to take her to the police station to bail Rowan out after he punched someone hard enough to make the other guy black out. The fact Aelin’s dad hadn’t killed her and Rowan after it had been a miracle.

The love, though, the love was her favorite part. Loving Rowan was so easy and so different from what she thought loving someone would be. She always thought that love was that blinding emotion, that easy thing that made you burn from inside out, but no. That was passion, and while it was good, love was… more. Loving him had been like sitting at a beach in the end of the afternoon, the wind on her face and the disappearing sun still warming your skin. Loving hadn’t make her feel like combusting, it had made her feel like home. It wasn’t always easy to be in love all the time, but she also found out that the hardships made part of loving.

Love, she learned, was choosing someone every day, the good and the bad, even when you didn’t feel like it. Love wasn’t always perfect, but it was always worth it.

But they fought. Oh, they fought a lot. Despite Rowan’s careless behavior, he was just as stubborn as she was. Their fights had always been filled with screaming, always making her blood boil in a different way. Even when fighting with him, Aelin had never felt more alive. In the end, however, most of their fights were stupid. They never fought about serious shit, and the screaming matches were usually about fucking nothing. They both had been too stubborn to see this, too stubborn to admit that both were usually wrong

The denial was what broke everything.

Aelin didn’t think Rowan would actually think they were breaking up. It was another one of their stupid screaming matches, and Aelin blurted out the first thing that came to her mind. She had been too proud to say she didn’t mean it, and so things ended because of nothing.

She could still see the whole scene. Could still see Rowan going still, narrowing his eyes and then shrugging as if it was nothing. Could still see him leaving. Could still hear her heart breaking. She knew since that instant that she should have gone after him.

She didn’t. He should have known.

And now he would be staring at her every now and then, would be like a fucking buzzard over her life.

“Hello, Earth to Aelin.” She felt a hand on her shoulder, a hand snapping its fingers in front of her face. She snapped back to reality, raising her head to stare at her cousin’s face. Her best friend, Lysandra, was by his side, staring at her with as much concern as Aedion was. “You ok?”

Aelin shook away from his grip, forcing a smile to her lips. “Never been better.”

————

Aelin waved Chaol goodbye, waiting until his car left her driveway to get inside the house.

She sighed, dropping her shoes down as she walked quietly to the kitchen. It was almost two in the morning, and she didn’t want to wake her parents.

Despite her efforts to keep quiet, she couldn’t help the scream that left her mouth when she turned on one of the kitchen lights and saw her father sitting there.

She put a hand to her chest, trying to calm her racing heart. “What the hell?”

“Was that necessary?” Rhoe asked, a smirk on his face.

Aelin scowled. “Why are you sitting in the dark?”

“Makes it all more dramatic.” Her dad shrugged, and Aelin rolled her eyes. She walked to one of the cabinets, taking out a bottle of water. “Aelin.”

She turned at her father’s tone, frowning when she saw his expression. “You’re the one that said no curfew.”

Rhoe shook his head, patting the seat by his side. “Come here, firefly.”

Aelin set the bottle down, cautiously sitting by her father’s side. He had a strange expression on his face, body somewhat tense. “What happened?”

“You like Chaol?”

Aelin frowned at the question, scoffing a little. “Yeah, he’s my boyfriend.”

“You used to have a different boyfriend.” Her dad said, and Aelin understood what the conversation was about.

“Seriously, dad?” She went on the defensive immediately, crossing her arms. “That was months ago. And I thought you didn’t even like Rowan.”

Rhoe actually laughed, a serene smile on his face. “Nah, I actually liked the kid. Despite the motorcycle, the black clothes, constant scowl, and the criminal record, he was a nice guy. And he made you happy. What else a father could wish?”

“Someone who doesn’t have a criminal record?”

Rhoe shrugged. “It’s not like I didn’t agree with him that time I had to take you to bail him out. Some guy harassed Lysandra, Rowan punched them.”

“You sound almost appreciative.” Aelin said, still on the defensive even though a small part of her smiled internally.

Rhoe smiled knowingly. “I am.”

Aelin scoffed, but didn’t say nothing in return. Her father let her gather her thoughts, and both sat in silence for a few minutes before Aelin said quietly. “Chaol is a nice guy.”

Her dad nodded. “He is.”

“He seems easy to love.”

Rhoe got up, pressing a kiss to his daughter’s hair. “No one is easy to love, firefly. That’s one of the main points of loving. We value it so much because it is hard to find, because it is hard to keep.” Aelin raised her head to look at her dad, and he smiled at her. “I’m not telling you what to do. You’re grown enough to take your own decisions. I’m also not telling you to go to a bad relationship, not in the slightest. If I thought something was harmful to you, I’d be the first intervening. But have in mind that people fight sometimes. Gods, me and your mother when we were younger? Like fucking cat and dog.”

Aelin huffed a laugh, vaguely remembering the stories her parents told her.

“But,” Rhoe continued. “It gets better with time, and I think you know that. You get more mature, learn to admit when you’re wrong. I remember when you and Rowan were younger and fought about everything, and yet it got better and better with time. The two of you barely argued during the last year.”

“I know.” Aelin whispered, resting her face against her father’s chest. He hugged her, rubbing her back like he used to when she was younger. She knew that he was right. Despite the fact that she argued a lot with Rowan, Aelin also knew that it had gotten much better. They fought less, and the reason of the arguments never got worse. It was usually childish and they’d laugh about it in the following morning. “I didn’t mean to actually break up with him. I never though he’d think I would break up with him over something so stupid.”

Even though she was whispering, Rhoe heard her. “I know.”

“And I should have told him that.”

“Yes, you should have.”

“I was wrong.”

“You were.”

“I’m not going back to him, though.” Aelin said, some stubbornness still in her. Rowan had absolutely left that day, and didn’t give her the chance to explain afterwards. They were apart for her fault, yes, but he wasn’t the saint in all this.

Rhoe groaned. “Really, Ace?”

Aelin crossed her arms. “He was very comfortable with the breakup. Why should I bother?”

“This whole conversation was for nothing?” Her dad crossed his arms, shaking his head.

“Not for nothing. I know now that I need to stop things with Chaol. I shouldn’t have even started dating him if I wasn’t going to commit completely.” Aelin raised her head to look at her dad. “Gosh, I’m a terrible person.”

“No, you’re young. Young people fuck up sometimes.” Rhoe kissed her head one more time before he started to walk out of the kitchen. He didn’t try to bring up going back to Rowan again, knowing that it would only make her more keen on not doing so. “But now that you recognize this, I hope you fix it. I didn’t raise you to be a liar, let that be by lying to others or to yourself.”

“Gods, you could have ended this conversation a little more lightly.”

Rhoe turned his face around, smiling at her. “Fix it, firefly.”

————

“Aelin? What happened? I left you at your house twenty minutes ago.” Chaol said, rubbing his eyes. He obviously was going to sleep already, and Aelin felt bad about doing this in the middle of the night but she had to get everything done already.

“I can’t do this.” She blurted out, an apologetic look on her face. “I’m so sorry.”

“What?”

“This. Us.” She signaled in between them. “I juts can’t.”

Chaol took a step forward, a frown on his face. “We’re going too fast? I can go in whatever pace you want but—“

“I know this is gonna sound like a shit excuse but it’s really not you, it’s me.” She said, cringing. It was terrible that she used the oldest breaking up method in the book, but it was true.

“Really, Aelin?” He crossed his arms, face morphing into anger. “This bullshit excuse?”

“I understand you’re mad, but I’m really, really sorry. I don’t want to lead you on, and you’re so nice and deserves someone who is completely willing to make the relationship work.” Aelin said pleadingly. “It’s not anything you did or didn’t do, I’m just—“

She wanted to feel as if her heart was breaking, but not even that. Instead, she was feeling relieved. The feeling angered her to no end. She should have been able to fall in love with a perfectly nice and calm guy, but Rowan’s presence had become like a ghost in her life and not even that was possible anymore.

“Not interested.” He finished, voice full of scorn. “If I’m oh so nice, why are you breaking up with me?”

“I—“ Aelin hesitated, not wanting to even mention Rowan. “I just can’t. I can’t be with you.”

“With me specifically.” Chaol said, grounding his jaw. After a second of silence, he let out an incredulous laugh. “Oh, I should have expected that. I’m the very nice guy, and yet you prefer the fucking asshole that Whitethorn is.”

Aelin felt a pang of anger. Of course Cahol would think that. “I’m really sorry. You are a nice guy, it’s really nothing with you.”

“Why don’t you just leave?” Chaol said, already closing the door. “And stay away from me.”

Aelin had the feeling that he didn’t want to hear to any more excuses, and so she just gave him another apologetic look before turning around and going back to her car.

Although breaking up with Chaol had been bad, she knew it wasn’t gonna be the worst part of her night because at that moment, Aelin was pissed enough to want to pick a fight.

And she knew exactly who she was going to pick it with.

As she drove to the apartment Rowan shared with Lorcan and his dad, Aelin went over and over what she was going to say when she got there. Knowing both her personality and Rowan’s, she knew that things would go south very quickly.

Her hands were sweating as she went up the stairs of the four stories building, fingers flexing over and over again as she gathered courage to knock on the door.

Part to her relief, part to her disappointment, no one answered. She knocked again. And again. And again.

On the sixth knock, the door opened violently, and Aelin found herself staring up at Lorcan Salvaterre.

His pissed off face quickly morphed into confusion, and he crossed his arms, leaning against the door frame. “Bimbo?”

Even being all pissed, Aelin rolled her eyes. Lorcan hadn’t like her in the beginning, but now both were actually close friends. Breaking up with Rowan made them separate a little, but good to know that he still liked her enough to use that stupid nickname. “Bully boy.”

Lorcan scoffed. “What have I done to deserve such visit at two in the morning?”

“Where’s Rowan?”

Lorcan tried to contain a smirk. “Why should I tell you?”

“Cause I’m your friend.”

“Nah, not good enough.” He said, letting the smirk appear. Aelin let out a breath, crossing her arms impatiently. “What do you want with him?”

“To talk.”

“You mean scream.”

“To talk.”

“About?”

“Stuff.”

Lorcan’s sarcastic smirk was widening more and more. “What stuff?”

“You’re fucking insufferable. Where’s Rowan?”

Lorcan let out a half cruel laugh. “ Don’t spew fire, baby. He’s in the shop, moping around while you go out with your jock boyfriend.”

Aelin rolled her eyes. “Thanks, could have said that a minute ago.”

“Nah.” Lorcan said, already closing the door. “Fix this mess. Rowan already has a shit mood, and it has only been worse for three months now.”

“You’re one to talk about bad mood.”

“Fuck off, Galathynius.” Lorcan said through the closed door, but Aelin was already rushing down the steps. The mechanic shop was by the end of the street, and she almost ran there.

The storefront was all dark, but the garage door was slightly open, light filtering through the opening. Without further thinking, Aelin crouched, entering through the opened bottom.

“Rowan.” Aelin said, crossing her arms.

Rowan immediately whipped his head around to look at her, eyes narrowing when he noticed her expression. “Why do I feel like you think I did something wrong?”

Despite all the planning, Aelin’s mind was blank. It was the first time she spoke to him in months. “I hate that we dated.”

Rowan let out a laugh, resting against the hood of a car. “You came all the way here, at two in the morning, to tell me that? The dedication is on point, Ace. But shouldn’t you have someone else to talk?”

Oh, he was jealous. Aelin could feel it in his voice. “You’re an idiot.”

“I’m the idiot?” Rowan crossed his arms. “If so, you should really get back to Prince Charming.”

“He’s nice.” Aelin said for some reason. When Rowan raised his eyebrows in mocked interest, she felt her blood boiling. It was because of this fucking asshole she couldn’t date anyone else. “He’s sensible and incredible.”

“Oh, I’m sure he is. All your single friends must be swooning over your relationship.” Although he was smiling, Aelin didn’t think he was finding any of that funny.

“And he calls me when he says he will. My mom thinks he’s nice, and today when he came to pick me up, he even talked to dad about business.”

“Really? I’m sure Rhoe and Evalin adore him.”

“He respects my space and limits, never asks me to wait. I, comfortable and I literally couldn’t ask for anything better.” The last lie tasted bitter on her tongue, but she didn’t take anything back.

“Wow, that sounds... fucking boring.” Rowan said, simply and with a smile. “And I bet anything you want that you’re fucking bored.”

“Fuck off, Rowan.”

“No, you fuck off, Aelin.” Rowan said, getting up. “You break up with me, you move on, you come here. And for fucking what?”

“You seemed very content in me breaking up with you, so don’t play the high moral ground card.” She replied defensively. “You wanna know what I just did, Rowan? I broke up with my amazingly normal boyfriend because of you.”

Rowan raised his eyebrows, letting out a laugh. “Can’t say I’m sorry.”

“Fuck you!”

“The girl I have loved for years just came here to tell me she broke up with her boyfriend because she still likes me. I’m so very sorry if I’m not currently crying.”

“You left.” Aelin screamed, and Rowan’s smile disappeared. She pointed a finger at him, taking a step forward. “You fucking left me after the stupidest fight we ever had. You fucking shrugged as if dating me wasn’t that important and you. Fucking. Left.”

“You broke up with me, Aelin. What the hell was I supposed to do?” Rowan spread his arms, shouting back at her.

“I don’t fucking know, but you could have showed any emotion that didn’t seem like satisfaction. You could have picked up my calls the following day, and the day after that, and the day after that. Could have asked me if I was serious when I shouted something stupid during a stupid argument.” Aelin’s voice was normal again. “And then Chaol comes and you’re right. I’m fucking bored. He opens the door for me, says all the right things and I’m fucking bored. Even when I feel perfectly fine, I’m fucking bored. I’m bored because I’m hung up over a guy who fucking shrugged when I broke a relationship of years. You shrugged, left and ignored me for days. So you don’t get to be happy about all this.”

“Aelin—“

“No. No, I’m talking now because you didn’t let me do it. I loved you so fucking much and you knew it. Loving you was a goddamn roller coaster and you knew I enjoyed it. And that’s the whole point. You knew the way I loved you and you didn’t let me explain. You knew it and you left, and then ignored me. I’m not saying this is your fault. It’s mine. I shouldn’t have screamed that I wanted to break up with you because I fucking didn’t, ok? I was fucking wrong, and we’re apart because of me. All I wanted was the chance to apologize. So now that you’re finally listening to me, you’re gonna let me apologize like it was the following morning.”

Aelin felt her heart beating fast, and when Rowan just stared at her in silence, she continued.

“I am so sorry I broke up with you. Of course I don’t mean it, and you’re acting like an idiot if you think I was for real. An absolute idiot because you should know I love you. You should know that I’d never break up with you over that. I’m so sorry that I even said that. I shouldn’t have, I let my temper get the best of me and shouted the first hurtful thing that came to my mind.” Aelin breathed in and out, trying to make her heart beat normally. “I’m sorry I even made you believe for a second I was for real. I never wanted to hurt you, and even though I hate the way you left, I understand. Please, please, forgive me and let’s go back to our normal.”

“Ace…”

“That was all I wanted to tell you when I called you a million times, Ro.” Aelin felt her throat twisting, the feeling of missing him for months hitting her straight to the chest. She knew she had been the wrong one in the situation, and even though she despised the way he left, Aelin knew Rowan enough to know that it was just a defense mechanism. “I didn’t even need you to accept me back, I just needed you to know that I was sorry and that I loved you. But you left and acted like everything was fine.”

“I’m sorry, Ace, I—“

“Gods, no. I don’t want you to apologize!” Aelin shook her head. Part of her wanted to hear it, the part that had been infuriated when ignored. The other part, however, the bigger part, didn’t want any apology. “I want you to accept the apology. And if you can’t do it, just say it and let me move on with my fucking life. Because if you can’t and this is it, I’ll have to move on with my fucking life. And I won’t bother you anymore.”

The whole room was silent, and Aelin was staring at Rowan as intently as he was staring right back at her. She could feel her heart beating, not fast anymore but so strongly she could hear it. Her palms were sweaty and, despite the fact that she hadn’t looked for Rowan with that intent in mind, she was hoping he’d accept the apology. That they’d talk and go back to being a normal fucking couple. A couple that no one really understood how it worked— Aelin being cheer captain, in the volleyball team, and every single club she’d find while Rowan was one step away from biting someone’s arm off if they talked to him.

“I was hurt.” Rowan started.

“I know.”

“And angry. And I wasn’t thinking.”

Aelin nodded hope and fear mixing inside her chest. “I guessed.”

“For two years I was waiting for the day you decided to break up with him after you realized I just wasn’t it.”

Aelin frowned, confusion clouding her mind. “What?”

“Oh, come on, Ace.” Rowan scoffed. “We both know you can do better.”

Aelin crossed her arms, eye narrowing. “No.”

“That’s a shit response.”

“Why the fuck do you mean by do better? Dating is not a sport or subject, Ro.”

“Don’t play dumb.”

“I mean it, tho. There’s no doing better. I love you and it is what it is. Nowhere to improve, you’re the maximum for me already.”

Rowan stared at her in silence, and Aelin wanted to say something else, wanted to maybe hug him. But he hadn’t said everything was fine, so she didn’t want to overstep any boundaries. She hadn’t been lying, though. She never imagined there could be anyone better for her, Rowan was just… perfect. What she not only wanted, but also needed. He had never been a missing part of her, but always someone who added up to who she already was.

“I’m sorry I didn’t let you explain.” Rowan said quietly.

“I said I didn’t want an apology.”

Rowan nodded, taking a hesitant step forward. “I love you. Have for years, you know that.”

Aelin nodded, face neutral even though she could feel her whole body relaxing. Worry slowly left her veins, relief and happiness substituting it. “And I love you too. Have for years, you know that.”

Rowan walked slowly up to her, hesitating again before raising his hands to cup her face. Aelin almost sighed in relief. “I should have listened to you.”

Aelin nodded, hope washing her whole expression. “So we’re fine? You forgive me, and we’re like before?”

Rowan bushed his thumb against her cheek, a small smile on his lips. “Yeah, we’re fine and there’s nothing to forgive.”

Aelin felt her chest bursting when he said that. She threw her arms around his shoulders, standing on her tiptoes to press her lips against his. Kissing Rowan after months was like coming back home, his warm and soft lips moving against her almost hungrily. Aelin opened her mouth, letting Rowan deepen the kiss as she hugged him more tightly. Rowan’s hands hugged Aelin by her waist, pressing her body against his as his mouth moved gently and yet hurriedly against hers.

Against his mouth, Aelin half sighed, half moaned in sheer happiness. 

Tags:

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[ghostcatdraws]

you have (1) new message

“I don’t believe in you!”

“I believe in you…”

You can’t help but snort, bursting into a fresh round of giggles. The dialogue in Nightmare on Elm Street is absolutely diabolical-- you struggle to figure out how anybody could consider this a horror movie. But hey… meteoric fame is hard to come by. It’s a cult classic for a reason. 

You’d usually be marathoning classic slasher flicks with your roommate, Chloe, but she’s on a month-long Hawaii dream vacation with her new boyfriend. What happened to bros before hoes? But hey, his wealth is apparently abundant enough to fund weeks of paradise beachside living, so good for her for getting that bread. And anyway, you’re content to sit alone in your little mousehole apartment and melt into the couch after work with a family-size bag of salt & vinegar chips under your arm. 

You watch the flickering screen with mild interest as you chomp down another handful of chips. Freddy Krueger is definitely failing to get you on the edge of your seat. Wiping your hand on your sweatpants, you pick up the remote and turn the movie off. 

“Nightmare, my ass.” you mutter under your breath. 

As much as you’d like to, eating nothing but salt and vinegar chips for dinner seems like a great way to end up with an upset stomach and a lot of regret later tonight. The pantry is well stocked with Chloe’s foods of choice-- organic steel-cut rolled oats, a billion different kinds of nuts and seeds all in cute little labeled mason jars, gluten free bread, a mockery of cheese puffs (chickpea puffs? Come on!). Your side is a library of boxed or canned foods in stark contrast: a couple opened boxes of Pop-Tarts, a few boxes of Kraft mac & cheese, a family sized box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch, and, the only thing not in a box: another bag of salt & vinegar chips. 

The fridge tells a similar story. Chloe’s avocados, farmer’s market tomatoes, and thick stalks of celery gleam in the vegetable drawer. She’s consumed half the shelf space with just kombucha and a few swanky craft beers. And bottles of oat milk, or soy milk, or some kind of thing pretending to be milk. You actually don’t have much in the fridge besides leftover Indian food from your favorite place downtown and a gallon of milk for your cereal, so you don’t mind her hogging more space. 

Muffy, Chloe’s ragdoll cat, stalks into the kitchen with you and gives you a tiny yowl. You lean down and give her an affectionate scratch behind the ears. 

“Scram, Muffy.” you murmur to her. “I’ve already fed you.” 

She looks up at you with a look that can only mean “and you’ll feed me more.” 

She stalks back into the living room, fluffy beige tail disappearing behind the wall in a flick and a wave. You tie your hair back and yawn. What’s on the menu for dinner tonight? 

Before you can think too much about eating, you remember that Chloe left you a voicemail before she took off. You fish your phone from your pocket and open your voicemail, tapping your toe against the linoleum floor as the dial tone plays. 

You have one new message, chirps the robot voice of your mailbox. 

“Hey girl. I’m boarding soon, so you probably won’t hear from me for a while. Make sure you feed Muffy, water the plants…” she clicks her tongue a few times, “take your meds, and don’t lay in bed for too long on the weekends. You know how that tanks your mood.” 

Chloe might be a total hipster health nut, but it doesn’t make it any less sweet that she frets over you so much. You break into a smile and make a mental note to call her back. 

“And. You can eat anything perishable of mine in the fridge or pantry while I’m gone. I doubt the bread or the veggies are gonna last long… you need to eat healthier anyway. No potato chips for dinner.” 

Your smile grows. She knows you so well. 

“I gotta go, but I’ll send you tons of pictures when I get there. Bye, babe.” 

You hang up and set your phone down on the counter. Eyeing the bland looking loaf of brown bread, you decide you’ll have breakfast a la Chloe for dinner. 

You toss the loaf onto the counter, then stalk to the fridge. The avocados seem pretty ripe. Tomatoes, too. You pick out one of each, then pluck a couple eggs from the carton you two share and set it all on the counter. Avocado toast with scrambled eggs sounds pretty Chloe. 

You gut the avocado, tossing its pit in the trash and scooping its innards out into a bowl. The fork makes quick work of it, turning it into a mound of mild green paste. Salt, pepper. Done. 

Hey, if Chloe let you eat her food, she’s bound to not mind that you’re using her nice kitchen knives too, right? You cut a few slices of tomato and grimace at its gelatinous, glistening center. You never liked tomatoes much, but she’s kinda right-- you do need to improve your diet. 

Before long, you’ve got a nice thick slice of toast slathered in avocado and garnished with ripe red tomato sitting next to a steaming pile of scrambled eggs. This may not be your beloved salt & vinegar chips, but it sure looks delicious. 

You snap a photo of your meal and text it to her. Am I healthy yet? you type, with a grin on your face. 

Muffy stalks up to you, looking up expectantly. You sigh and toss her a morsel of scrambled egg. “That’s all you’re getting, you little twerp.” you admonish through a mouthful of toast. It’s not… delicious, but it’s not bad for some mushed up vegetable on top of an excuse for bread. You curse yourself for not adding some cheese to your scrambled eggs. That would’ve really been delicious. 

You’d usually be scrolling through your social media right now, but something inspires you to look longingly out the window of the kitchen. The sky is a starless, inky black, obscuring everything except for whatever is illuminated by the weak orange streetlights. Usually there would be more traffic or drunk yelling-- you and Chloe didn’t exactly get lucky with the placement of your unit-- but tonight it’s eerily silent. That’s perfectly welcome to you, though. It’s much better than cranking up the volume of your music to drown out whatever street fight is occurring three floors below you. 

Suddenly, your musing and its silence is broken by the sound of your ringtone. It’s half past midnight… who in their right mind would be calling you right now? 

Unknown number. You frown and let it go to voicemail. Probably just some spam caller. 

You finish your dinner and sit there in the silence, then check your phone again. You can’t help but be curious as to what message they’ve left you. Gingerly, you open your voice mailbox again and listen dispassionately to the dial tone and the little robot voice. 

You have one new message and one old message. 

The voice that erupts through your speaker is unfamiliar, smooth, low. All you can discern is that it’s a male voice, its tone almost perversely cloying. 

“I was hoping you’d pick up.” A long inhale, a long exhale. “You seem a little lonely. Breakfast for dinner… cute.” 

Ice cold horror washes over you and you can barely move your fingers to hang up. This has to be some kind of joke. Some stupid kid getting really, really lucky with their prank call. 

But a question still sears into your thoughts:

Who would have known what you were doing? 

That you were alone in your apartment? 

Maybe, just maybe, by some insane stretch of the imagination, Chloe’s new boyfriend got ahold of her phone, saw your text, and decided to pull some prank. Yeah, that sounds about right. That’s the only situation that makes sense, unless… 

Somebody is watching you.  

You nearly jump out of your seat as the phone rings again. Unknown number. Your hands tremble over it as your panicked brain deliberates picking it up. Before you can think about it any more, you’ve snatched it into a sweaty palm and brought it up to your ear. 

“Chloe, this isn’t fucking funny. Cut it out.” you try to sound intimidating, but your voice trembles in just the wrong way with each word. 

“You picked up.” the voice breathes, and you swear you can hear a sinister smile creep onto whoever’s face it belongs to. “You must really be lonely.” 

“I said stop, Chlo--”

“My name’s not Chloe.” he snarls, and your empty threat dies in your throat immediately. Then, as if nothing had happened at all, his voice slips back into that relaxed, amused tone. “But I do wish I were spending a month in Hawaii right now. Lucky girl, isn’t she?” 

Another pang of fear hits you like a brick. You swallow hard, biting your lip. “Whoever you are, leave me alone. Or I’ll… I’ll call the cops.” 

“What exactly are you going to tell them, sweetheart? That some big mean boogeyman is leaving scary messages on your phone?” he lets out a mocking laugh. “They’ll send their best officers, I’m sure.”

“Leave me alone.” is all you manage to say, breathless and trembling, before you force yourself to hang up and practically slam your phone down onto the counter. Muffy jumps and cocks her head at you. You force yourself to break out of your panicked stupor and hurry over to the kitchen window, glancing hurriedly to the left and right of it. If somebody were on the fire escape, you surely would have heard it. 

At least, that’s what you tell yourself. 

You yank those curtains shut, then the curtains on the living room window, then finally the ones in your bedroom. You remember Chloe locking and shutting her windows, so there’s no need to check in there. Something tells you to anyway.

You creep to her doorway, palms sweaty. There’s probably nothing to see in there, you think to yourself, the curtains were already shut. 

Looking into her room, your stomach drops. 

The curtains are tucked neatly to the side, and her window is cranked all the way open, letting in the cool night air and the sounds of the streets. You nearly choke in horror and rush over to shut the window, making sure the lock is tightly down before throwing the curtains back over them. You must have just misremembered. She probably left the window open to let some fresh air in, or something.

But she never leaves her window open, or Muffy would get out, you realize. 

“Oh my God.” you gasp to yourself, before you sprint to the kitchen and grab the biggest, meanest looking knife in the drawer, as well as your phone. Muffy meows at you curiously, then yelps in indignance as you swiftly scoop her up by the stomach and fly to your room. 

“Sorry.” you mutter as you practically toss her onto your bed, then lock your door. It’s a pathetic, flimsy mechanism, and could probably be picked with a fork, but it’s better than nothing. You pause, surveying the room for any heavy objects, and settle on jamming your full laundry hamper under the doorknob. At least this way you’ll hear any intruder before they make it into your room. The knife you tuck under your pillow as you scramble under your covers and turn your lamp off. 

Your hands shake as you dial Chloe’s number. The phone rings once, twice, then goes straight to voicemail.

“Hey, Chlo,” you say shakily. “Uhm, I got some really weird calls from somebody tonight and I think our apartment might have been broken into. Or something. Uh,” you swallow hard, “Muffy and I are locked up in my room right now and I have a knife. I could be just imagining things, but if you don’t hear from me for a while, I probably got murdered or something.”

God, you sound so stupid right now, but it’s the best you can muster when your thoughts are racing at a million miles an hour. 

“I’ll call you when I wake up tomorrow. Bye.” 

You plug your phone in and set it on your nightstand, shrinking down underneath your duvet. Nothing is visible in your room, even as your eyes adjust to the darkness, except for the glow of the hall light you left on under your door. 

It’s going to be a long night. 

Check out this story and the rest of its chapters on AO3!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28688007/chapters/70331253

[captain-s-rogers]

Have A Little Faith In Me

(gif credit to the creator)

Part One

Master List Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC // Clint Barton x OFC Word Count: 1,900 Warnings: none? A/N: Debuting for OC Day 2020! Here’s the first part of the rewrite of my first ever Marvel series! If you want to be added to my tag list please let me know! Feedback is cool :)

Rockefeller PR firm. Though not connected to the famed family by any means, legend had it the J.D. Rockefeller himself had hired the founding members to handle his public relations in the very early success of the family. As a show of gratitude, in addition to a substantial cash and client flow, Mr. Rockefeller had allowed the firm to use the family’s prosperous name.

Anyone who was anyone in New York City knew of and often employed Rockefeller PR. The firm put on benefit events like they were going out of style, constantly hosting galas and banquets for one charity or another. Of course, with the guest lists for the events most often restricted to Manhattan’s elite, the donations poured in left and right. The firm had reached their renowned status as the most profitable and most charitable over the years. 

In more recent years, Sophia Hawkins and Lucy Cleveland had made names for themselves as the firm’s most successful representatives. That success had given the clout they needed to swing an event entirely different from anything the firm had done in a long time -- possibly ever. 

For starters, this event wasn’t being held to raise funds for an art gallery or secure investors for a corporation. This event was being held to raise funds to donate to several different organizations that supported the US troops and veterans. Not to mention, the event was made open to the public -- another component which had never been a part of a Rockefeller PR event. The thing was 1940s USO; everyone who showed up to attend the event was required to dress accordingly and make a donation at the door, in addition to their purchased ticket, of course

Both Sophia’s and Lucy’s grandfathers had fought in World War II, which had been Sophia’s inspiration for the idea. The firm’s executives hadn’t been keen on the idea when the two women first presented it, but between the excellent publicity that would come from supporting the troops and veterans, and the girls’ track record of successful events, convincing them to endorse the event hadn’t taken but a few minutes.  

The night of the benefit arrived, with a line forming out the door a couple of hours before the designated start time. Sophia and Lucy were dressed to the nines, double checking that everything -- from the menu to the music -- was in order. The servers were dressing in period-appropriate waiter and waitress uniforms, and the trio of women singing were emulating a 1940s singing group to a T. While the musical act ran through their era-specific setlist, Sophia and Lucy shined up the finishing touches on the decor. 

“Soph!” Lucy called out across the banquet hall, “do we need to alter the table settings? Caitlyn still has place cards for high-profile clients set out.” 

“We can just toss the cards, since there’s no guest list and we’re closing the doors as max capacity,” Sophia replied, already plucking name cards from a nearby table. 

“Do we have enough food?” Lucy continued. 

“We’ve got the chefs cooking for one-hundred-fifty and there’s one-hundred seats. I think we’re okay,” Sophia smiled. “Calm down, Luce. Everything is going according to plan. Nobody can plan like we can.”

Finally, Lucy was able to calm down. “You’re right. You’re absolutely right.” 

The women smiled at each other; everything was going to be perfect. Despite Lucy’s worries, they were well aware that this had been one of the smoothest events they had ever planned. Not having to please a bunch of snobby clients made the process a breeze. 

With only a few minutes to go, Sophia and Lucy decided they were happy with the state of things. After a short breather, they told the doorman to begin letting guests in the hall. 

Manhattan’s elite mingled with some lesser known citizens, filling the room and milling about the dance floor with freshly served drinks. The two event planners flitted about, adjusting table placements as necessary, making sure the food and drinks stayed well-stocked. The turnout was set to be huge, and within ten minutes of the doors opening, the hall was filled to capacity. 

Once everyone had found their seat, Sophia made a brief yet spectacular speech welcoming everyone and thanking them for their donations -- with the total amount to be named later in the evening -- the musical act took to the stage. Drinks continued to flow, the appetizers were served, and the nostalgia of the songs pulled a few couples to the dance floor. Sophia and Lucy stood at the back of the room, admiring their handiwork. 

“Ya know, Soph, I think we did a good job with this one,” Lucy mused, accepting a martini from the bartender.

“I think you’re right,” Sophia agreed. She sipped wine from the glass in her hand and took another cursory glance over the room, ever vigilant for any little thing that might go wrong. 

“Everyone seems to be having a good time,” Lucy added. “And, speaking of a good time, I do believe that gentleman in the corner is eyeing you. He has been all night.”

Sophia choked her drink. “You’re kidding, right? Lucy, tonight is not the night for your games, friend.”

“I’m not playing games,” Lucy laughed. “See, over by the band? Tall, blond. Might have to call the doctor, since he’s been nursing that beer for over an hour. But, yes, friend, he keeps glancing over at you.”

“I think you’re full of shit,” Sophia mumbled, though she looked somewhat hopeful as she threw a casual glance in the direction Lucy had indicated. She locked eyes with the man Lucy had nodded toward. 

“Still think I’m full of shit?”  

Sophia scoffed, shaking her head before she downed the rest of her wine and set the glass on the bar. Yes, she had been hopeful seconds ago, but this man was beyond handsome -- and she was on the clock, to boot. 

“Go, talk to him!” Lucy urged.

“Not a chance, Luce. We’re working, remember?” 

Before Lucy could come up with a suitable response to change her friend’s mind, the man in question started towards the two women. When he was close enough for them to see he was, for certain, headed in their direction, Lucy whispered a quick ‘good luck’ in Sophia’s ear, then made herself busy checking on the status of supper.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” the man began, “but are you Sophia Hawkins?”

Sophia nodded. “I am. Can I help you with something?

“I’m Steve Rogers,” he introduced, extending a hand. When Sophia slipped her hand into his for a confident but cautious handshake, he continued.  “I wanted to thank you for coordinating this event. It’s a great cause, and I’m very impressed with the level of authenticity.”

Sophia faltered for a moment, running through her mental files so could explain the familiarity of his name. She recovered quickly, pasting a polite, professional smile on her face. 

“We did our best to make it as authentic as possible. My grandfather and great uncle were in World War II, and my co-planner, Lucy’s grandfather was in the war, as well. We were able to find a lot of photographic evidence to go off of.”

Steve hesitated, casting an uneasy glance at the ground before meeting her eyes again. “Yeah, my grandfather was in the war, too. I think he would appreciate how well you pulled it all off.”

“Why, thank you,” she smiled. They stood in silence for a moment, and Sophia noticed the authentic detail of the Army uniform Steve was wearing -- even with the best costume designers, nothing they had provided for the waitstaff or singers was this authentic. The longer she looked, the more familiar the uniform seemed. 

Steve met her eyes. “Everything all right?”

Sophia nodded and quickly dismissed the strange familiarity as something she had seen in her own family’s photos. “Is the uniform your grandfather’s?”

Again, Steve hesitated, almost as though he was looking for the right words to answer an otherwise easy question. “It was. Found it in my mother’s attic before the event. Since time-period attire was required, seemed like the uniform was the way to go.”

“It suits you,” Sophia smiled. She turned away for a moment to ask the bartender for another glass of wine. 

Steve quickly took a sip of his beer while he waited for her to return to their conversation. He looked around the room, catching sight of the dance floor; a warm blush creeped over his cheeks and down his neck. The tempo had changed from upbeat and quick to slow and steady. A surge of confidence swelled in his chest, pushing him to act on impulse. Steve finished off his beer and set the bottle on the counter, then extended his hand to Sophia again. 

“Forgive me if I’m out of line, but would you like to dance, Ms. Hawkins?” Steve asked.

Sophia’s blush matched his as she turned to set the wine glass on the bar. She accepted Steve’s hand. “Call me Sophia, and I’d love to dance.”

The couple eased into a simple waltz as the music began to build from the first verse into the bridge of the song. They danced in silence through the chorus, concentrating on the steps before changing focus to each other. 

“You told me about your family, but what made you decide to do an event open to the public? I’ve been told your firm generally caters Manhattan’s high-status citizens.”

“We do, you’re right,” Sophia confirmed. “Lucy and I have done so many of those, we wanted to do something different. We were looking through old family photos together one night, just for fun, and the idea to do a benefit for the military came to us. The USO theme followed.”

“I don’t want to sound like a broken record,” Steve smiled, “but you did a really fantastic job.”

Sophia showed her appreciation for his compliment with a modest smile. When the song ended, though she was reluctant to do so, she thanked Steve for the dance and turned to return to the bar.

“Sophia?” he called, gently grabbing her wrist to keep her from getting too far..

She turned to face him, brows raised in question. “Mm?”

“Would you want to get dinner some time? Maybe get to know each other better. Sometime when you’re not working.” 

Sophia didn’t bother to stop the ear-to-ear grin that spread over her face. “I would love that.” 

A pen was handy in the pocket of her dress, since she was, in fact, working. She took Steve’s hand again and jotted her number across his palm. She clicked the pen before putting it back in her pocket. 

“I’ll call you in a few days,” Steve promised. “We’ll work out the details.”

“Sounds good.” Sophia nodded and winked at him. She turned to walk away, this time looking over her shoulder to add, “Thanks for the dance, Captain.”

He froze for a moment, fearing that Sophia was aware of his full identity. Her eyes glanced to the patches on his jacket before she turned away from him; that had been what tipped her off to the rank. When she was back at the bar and conversing with her friend, Steve looked down at the phone number written across his palm. With a suppressed but victorious smile, he worked his way back into the crowd.

@arrowsandmixtapes​ @the-murder-strut-murdered-me​ @growningupgeek​ @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan​ @captain-rogers-beard​ @kitkatd7​ @patzammit​ @sagechanoafterdark​ @what-is-your-plan-today​

[spahhzy]

Myosotis. Pt.8 : Stormbound

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.

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The familiar light of the broken moon greeted her silver eyes once more. The gentle breeze and the swaying of tree's from the forest behind her filled her ears. "This is not the Bullhead" Ruby thought to herself but enjoying the feeling of serenity that the moon brought.

Looking away from the moon she could see Beacon down below, the moons light illuminating the academy from the darkness, really making it live up to its name.

"Ruby?"

Came the voice she has come to love and cherish much over their time together.

The crunching of grass from a pair of boots was audible and getting progressively louder until finally it stop right near her. Turning her head slightly upward she was met with the loving, bright smile of one Jaune Arc.

"What are you doing up out here so late?" Questioned the blonde as he sit down next to the rose, who just shrugged, still staring out into valley below.

"This place...is just soothing ya know?" She said to him and he just hummed to her in acknowledgement.

Silence fell again.

"Hey Rubes...this ain't a bad spot to get buried you think?" That caused Ruby to turn to look at him questioningly.

Jaune just continued looking out over the cliff.

"I mean look at the view!" He said pointing out below.

"Its dark Jaune but...sure I know what you mean" giggled Ruby , shuffling over a bit to lean against Jaune.

"Hey Rubes...if I die...mind burying me here?" Chuckled Jaune to which Ruby chuckled as well giving him a light slap on the shoulder.

"Sure Vomit Boy but that won't be till we are both old and grey how about we both get buried here" That statement caused Jaune to snort but nod in agreement.

"Great -yawn- glad we got burial placements out the way" said a sleepy Jaune to which he felt a shift as Ruby motioned him to come lay down in her lap.

Jaune heartily accepted the invitation and laid his head into her lap staring up at those loving silver eyes.

"Gotta tell ya Ruby...the moon ain't got nothing on you" he told her to which she blushed and ran a hair through his blonde hair.

In seconds the blonde knight fell asleep.

Ruby smiled at her adorable knight. Closing her eys she sighed contently.

She could stay here forever.

.

.

"Time waits for no one little rose"

Snapping her eyes back open she looked up to where she thought she heard the voice only to see that the night sky was tinged an eerie red.

Smoke started filling her nostrils and she turned her head towards the forest of which she treasured so much, Burning to the ground.

It wasn't until she tried to move her body that she couldn't. The horrifying realization set it.

"This is a nightmare"

"Oh sweet little rose...this is no nightmare"

She twisted her head to try and pinpoint the voice but it was seemingly everywhere!

Her eyes finally settled back to Beacon...or what remained.

Beacon laid in ruins. Fires all but consumed every inch of the school that had given hope to people. Now laid to ash.

No this can't be happening...who could have done such a thing!

"Oh we both know the answer to that"

That damned voice was teasing her now!

"Wh-who are you!?" She spoke out trying her best to remain calm as the voice just chuckled at her.

"You know who I am"

Ruby was sweating bullets trying to come up with an answer, the smoke from the forest fire behind her making it hard to breath.

"I am "

Ruby suddenly felt something very cold touch her cheek and she realized it was a hand.

Hyperventilating she looked down and was met with lifeless blue eyes and a bloody smile.

She screamed.

"Your reality"

Snapping back to reality Ruby jolted forward from her seat. Breathing heavily.

"Ruby" came the concerned voice of her knight. He gentle pulled her into a hug as she steady catched her breath.

"Did you have another nightmare?" He asked to which Ruby nodded. She reached to her side and opened up a bottled water and chugged it down immensely.

"Sis you okay?"came the concerned voice of Yang to which Ruby nodded but Yang was skeptical.

"Ruby... your crying" Yang said which caused Ruby to wipe her eyes with her shirt.

"I - I had another nightmare again..." she said to her sister who got up from her seat and proceeded to nudge Ruby to get up as well.

"Come on were going to the bathroom to clean you up" she said to her little sister with a tone that left no room for argument.

Ruby looking at Jaune who just smiled at her.

" go Rubes you know how yang can get" he teased and Ruby rolled her eyes before getting out of the seat and following yang to the bathroom.

Jaune just looked on as Ruby left, a frown visible.

-

This bullhead was unnecessarily big. Well thats what you get when you travel with anything from the schnee's.

"Can you believe it! this bathroom is almost as big as my room at home!" Yang said to Ruby who just looked around before going to a sink and turning on the cold water, she started applying it to her face.

"Was it the same nightmare as last time?" Her sister asked to which Ruby shook her head.

"No...this one was different...the forest was buring and beacon was in ruins...but their was this voice" she stopped and yang just raised a brow.

"A voice?" She questioned and Ruby sighed before applying more water to her face.

"What did the voice say?" To which for some reason Ruby hesitated to answer.

"Hey remember its just a nightmare... its not real" Her sister reassured her which calmed Ruby down.

" 'I am your reality'" I s what the voice said before their was screaming and I woke up" She said to her before looking at Yang, who for the most part looked unfazed.

"Hey give me one second imma go get you a towel" and on that note Yang exited quickly much to the confusion of Ruby but decided not to push it.

Sighing for what was the trillionth time before submerging her head under the cold stream of water trying to wash away the weariness.

"Running away...so unlike you"

Fear shot through Ruby like electricity as she shot her head up from the sink.

She looked around to find the bathroom completely empty. Shaking her head and swallowing the lump in her throat, she turned back towards the mirror.

But looking back at her was not her silver eyed self.

No staring back at her hauntingly with black scalera and red pupils with evil smile adorning her face.

Gasping before smashing her fist into the mirror , in a panic. Glass shattering and falling onto the floor. Ruby was beginning to hyperventilate again.

"Just breath Rubes...just breath" she said trying to calm herself down before wincing a little as she looked down at her right hand which was now bleeding from the shards of glass.

"Weiss is gonna kill me" she cursed to herself before collecting the pieces of glass, carefully to not cause more injuries, before throwing the shards in the trash.

Closing her eyes, she let out another shaky breath before turning to fix the cut on her hand.

She turned only to be met with black rob.

Slowly she tilts her head up to see the same evil smile and crimson red eyes looking down upon her.

Shaking her head slowly, and backing up in fear at who was in front of her..

"N-no but me and Jaune..we w-we killed you" Ruby stuttered terror flooding her body as her brain scrambled for a solution. She could NOT be here. Her and Jaune ended her in her own palace. Salem should no longer be ALIVE.

The woman brought a hand to her chin pretending to ponder.

"Oh if thats the case why am I here? Their are...other ways? Hmm to immortality...just ask dear ozzy" Salem taunted before moving forward which only caused Ruby to move a step back.

"Tsk tsk You are running away again, I see" she chided to the reaper, who in turn started whimpering in fear and tried backing up but each step she took, Salem got on step closer.

"Don't worry...you can only run so far from the truth...and I'm going to be with you" She said to Ruby who's back was now against the wall.

Salem bent down to Rubys ear, fear paralyzed the reaper who could do nothing but stare helplessly like a fish out of water.

"Every step of the way"

A gasp of air finally manged to make its way to Ruby as she looked around.

Salem was gone.

"Rubes I'm back had to get the towels from the other- Ruby!" Yang voice finally came through and soon enough lilac eyes looked at her in worry.

"Whats going on? Is everything al-oh my Ruby!" Summer came in rushing to her daughters side, who was now shaking in fear.

"Yang go get the med-kit we need to stitch the hand" all she heard was Yang running across the tile floor.

"Ruby sweetie look at me" Summer said sweetly which caused Ruby to look at her "its gonna be okay sweetie" but that did nothing and offered no comfort. She needed warmth, she needed comfort. Instantly her mind thought of one person.

"Jaune"

As soon as the name was said from her mouth, ocean blue eyes met her gaze and a tuft a blonde hair as bright as the sun appeared behind summer. A smile on his face as he wrapped a comforting arm around her.

"Its gonna be okay crater face...your gonna be okay"

And with that Ruby feel asleep.

---

"Mom...whats happening...only time it got this bad is when she..."

"I know yang I know..."

"Do you? I saw the fear in her eyes... Ruby isn't scared that easily mom..."

A sigh.

"Do you think Ruby...is...remembering?"

" for the life of me little dragon...I hope not...I don't think she can take it "

Yang looked out the window of the bullhead. Eyes red in anger as they saw the dark clouds forming.

A storm was coming.

Took longer then I wanted too really, my bad.

[xielanji]

supposedly happy | wangxian au (given)

listen to this while reading

inspired by the anime given

angst

one shot

The feeling of performing on stage for the first time. Nervousness? Adrenaline rush? Exciting? Scary?. Lan Wangji is having mixed feelings , it was his first time standing at the middle of the stage after all. Anyone would've never guessed he was feeling that way , his dull expressions would only be visible for them but to the ones close to him could tell he’s actually anxious. Not many people could read Lan Wangji; his Uncle ,his brother and him.

If it wasn’t for Mo Xuanyu accidentally hearing him humm a song, he wouldn’t have been there at the center. He found a friend in Mo Xuanyu, in fact he was the one that encouraged him to write lyrics for the band. Lan Wangji wasn’t good at expressing feelings so naturally it took weeks before he finally found inspiration in writing one, focusing on his muse and deeper feelings. And then it was time for their performance, their band name ‘Light’ was called.

The air felt different, along with the cheers from the audience. Lan Wangji’s limbs were shaking uncontrollably, but when he took a deep breath and looked at the crowd he snapped out of it and went back to reality. The drummer tapped his drumsticks and counted down to three and finally he strummed his guitar, hand placements were messy but tolerable. After the intro the music toned down into a slower beat, the crowd were wide eyed along with his band members when he started singing.

Just like The snow that won't completely melt away ,I keep with me these feelings deep inside .Just let me know the words Should I just close Now ,The door that guards strongly this love?

In his mind all he could think about was that one person. He met him one summer, asking him to be his friend, Lan Wangji was just peacefully sitting at the swing then. In Lan Wangji’s nature, he couldn’t keep up on the latter’s energy, as a teenager it was given that the latter would have that much energy, enough to tire Lan Wangji out. After all of the things the latter have done, Lan Wangji felt his heart beating faster than normal every time he smiles at him.

It wasn’t in his plan but as time went by, the feelings were deeper and he couldn’t hide it anymore so instead he hid himself away from him and everyone, afraid of his feelings being found out. The latter kept on knocking at Lan Wangji’s door. The door that separates both of their hearts, once it's opened then there’s no turning back at all. Lan Wangji with the hopes of his feelings melting away only grew stronger when he was held in the latter’s arms.

You're my everything and now,My soul keeps calling for you And,now I am completely in love.

Lan Wangji then decided to embrace the other and be unrestrained when it comes to falling deeper. He still remembers the way they kissed for the first time, under the street lamps at midnight. The way he looked down at the shorter man’s face, his smile brighter than any lights or stars above them, the eyes shining as if Lan Wangji was the only one in the world, he was his world.

He wouldn’t forget about the times he’d quarrel with his family to fight for him, the times where it’s just the both of them against everyone. He was Lan Wangji’s everything and he couldn’t afford to lose him.

Just walk right now along with me. Through all the ways that we can go.I ask right now don't let me go. With no goodbyes or moving on. Just stay with me, wherever I go

Lan Wangji singed his heart out, emotions filled with regrets and unspoken words finally being expressed,but with no one receiving those on the other end of the line. It was like there was a projector playing all of the memories he had with this man, all he could think about right now was him, and only him. He messed up a few chords from time to time. He sang along with the heavy burdens in his heart, all he wanted was to walk with him until the end. Without any warnings nor letters, he ended his own life.

Don't let me be alone,The spell or maybe curse has not been broken yet. I'm still holding the baggage that I had, Just please relieve this pain.

Everyday he carried the pain of losing his loved one, although he continued existing, there was no reason to live anymore. It was a long time since he felt he was truly alone again. Ever since he got into his life, the once dull and colorless world Lan Wangji suddenly bursts with colors. The strong feeling of regret still surrounds his mind, he wished he could have stood beside him, he wished he told him what he was feeling, he wished that he could at least take away his pain. It was noticeable, something changed, but he shrugged it off knowing that he probably wouldn’t tell him because he doesn't want Lan Wangji to worry. He wished and still wishes that he’s right next to him.

He never really thought he would say goodbye to him one day, until now he daren’t say goodbye because Lan Wangji was still holding on to that small bit of hope that he would hold his hands again.

Hey, what's our future? What should I keep on waiting for? What am I supposed to find? In this cold place, let me know.

The days after his death, Lan Wangji found himself strolling around the places they used to go together. The familiar scenarios , signs and even the vendors were still there, but the person he went with wasn’t. Lan Wangji hoped that he’d bump into him, impossible but he was still hoping it could happen, that one day he would wake up from this nightmare with him laying by his side. It took Lan Wangji a few weeks to sink in that he’s never coming back, he broke down at the swing he once sat at the day he met the boy, until he got used to going to that certain place almost everyday as if he’s waiting for someone that will never come.

In the end, when the sun loses its light and the moon shows up, he would call it a day and return to his house.

The tears are falling from my eyes, They're freezing everything inside. Under this beautiful blue sky, They're just pretending to be kind

He could feel it, the numbness. Lan Wangji just wanted to cry, but he can’t. He clutched his chest, Lan Wangji lost control. In reality even if he wanted to scream all the pain away, there was no one willing to listen and understand him. Lan Wangji picked up the red guitar, not knowing what to do with it, only memories of him playing a song for Lan Wangji lingers when he eyes the guitar.

Lan Wangji didn’t notice himself tearing up as he sang the words that were meant for him. Mo Xuanyu even spotted some people wiping their eyes, the way Lan Wangji sang made them feel like they were mourning too, he was so emotional that even the others could empathize with him.

And around the time. they fall down my face. Two people who were always together are torn apart.

That's all there is to this story.

“Wei Ying”, the boy hummed in response, “Wei Wuxian” Lan Wangji held his hands, “I love you”. Wei Wuxian didn’t expect Lan Wangji to say those three words first, so Wei Wuxian said, “ Lan Zhan! I love you, I fancy you, I want you, I whatever you”, hugging Lan Wangji tight, never wanting to let go of his embrace. Two people molded perfectly with each other, The sun that gives his light to the moon and the moon that wouldn’t shine without the sun. The total opposite of each other’s personality binded by love that made them fit for one another. A happy love story, supposedly happy.

Lan Wangji still can’t forgive himself when one day before Wei Wuxian’s passing, he blurred out the words he never really meant. “Are you willing to die for me then?” Lan Wangji coldy told Wei Wuxian, it was out of anger. Those words pierced through Wei Wuxian’s heart. The next thing Lan Wangji knew after they parted ways, He went to Wei Wuxian’s house to apologize, but what welcomed him was the sight he’d never forget. It wasn’t supposed to happen, they were supposed to end up growing old together.

Just like that, the two people that could barely be seen without the other were torn apart. An unfortunate ending of a supposedly happy love story. In Wei Wuxian’s mind, he proved to Lan Wangji how much he loved him.

Even if your everything loses its shape one day,You'll always be here within me. As I try to move forward again, Even though I couldn't say goodbye. You'll always be here with me

Lan Wangji, who didn’t have a high tolerance on alcohol, drank a few bottles. The next day he woke up with a red rose tattooed on his left chest, it was Wei Wuxian’s favorite flower. Even if he was intoxicated when he got the tattoo, he did not regret having it for it would mean that wherever he goes it means that Wei Wuxian will always be with him in his heart. He then looked up and said, “Wei Ying, I’m sorry” his voice shaking and his tired eyes were once again spilling out tears.

The song came to an end and he quickly went back, he rode his motorcycle and ran away. Lan Wangji sat again on the swing, it was midnight when he got to the playground. Lan Wangji looked at the moon and smiled, his hands on his heart, a habit he developed when he remembers Wei Wuxian,

“Wei Ying, did you hear me sing tonight? I wrote that song only for you. Wei Ying, tonight I was very brave, you will always be my source of strength, I did all of that so you could hear me up there. I’m still sorry Wei Ying, I love you so much and I am missing you more and more each day.” Lan Wangji lowered his head down, tears running down his face, he took one last look at the moon and said,“Take care of me, Wei Ying.”

[gone-dw-abt-it]

hey

send in some ideas for gem star sanses (I’mma call ‘em the Starlight Sanses or Starlight Gems).

I need ideas/questions to go off of them for some development into them and can’t figure anything out without something to go off of.

here’s so far the ideas:

Dream is a Vivianite, a gem that has a green/blue inside but gets darker on the outside and essentially means/has healing/love/positive influences. or an Amber due to the healing properties and color, he’s gonna have wings (babey ones tho) and his sparkle stick/staff still gem placement is gonna be on the collar bone of where the “DS” on his attire it, still a debate tho.

Blue is a baroque pearl, he’s prepy, he’s a mom, but he’s not perfect enough to be a pearl, so he’s a messed up, melted looking imperfect but perfect baroque pearl. Probably on one of his hands or of his chest where his “armour” kingdom marking commonly is.

Ink is a rainbow amethyst for personality and how he seems to match up well with the amethyst’s meanings or a white spinel since he has found a coping mechanism(crystal shards/ink to feel) and try to bottle up everything, might be carved like art deco resulting in him hiding the gem when he can and his eye(lights?) changing form constantly. OR a fractured/broken Ammolite since he is a rainbow, fragile, old, and has no clue the surrounding mood until after stating something.

Send me ideas and I’ll confirm, deny or expand on them since I’m the one drawing this jazz into existence. These are going to be the only “canon” gems they could/will be until a gem that fits them entirely works.

[sml8180]

Focus

Another Ego fic! This time with Eric! Based off another prompt I found (Focus on me, okay?). Eric end up suffering from a panic attack, and Dark does what he can to help, because he understands that sort of situation more than he would ever let on. 

Heads up for the following: Mentions of gunfire, panic attack, description of panic attack symptoms, mention of PTSD.

Focus

Eric Derekson hadn’t had an easy life by any means. He had lost his brothers, his mother, his girlfriend, his pets, and now only had his father, who wasn’t the caring type. Derek was overbearing, in a way, and extremely pushy with Eric; he forced him in front of the camera to film commercials, belittled him for being so anxious, and constantly compared him to his late brothers, all while claiming that Eric would never live up to the family name. It was no wonder Eric was constantly anxious and wary of everything around him.

With some under the table help from Dr. Iplier, though, he was making slow progress. It was very slow progress, but it was at least something, and that was better than nothing. The doctor had adjusted Eric’s prosthetic legs, making it so they fit better and didn’t pinch like they had been, and had started to teach Eric ways to manage his anxiety. It was slow going, and sometimes difficult, with Derek being against the idea that his son could even be helped and being extremely set in his ways.

Eric often had issues communicating with his father, but the opportunity he’d been told of by Dr. Iplier had him excited enough that he forced himself to confront the man. He had told his father that he had learned about a television studio not too far away from them that was looking to hire an audio-video technician. Derek initially shrugged this off, but begrudgingly agreed to allow Eric to go in for the interview when he learned that the pay Eric could make would be enough for him to hire someone more competent than his son.

Eric had rehearsed what he would say until the moment he was brought in for his interview. There were points where he stumbled a bit under the cold gaze of the man across the desk from him, he stammered through some of the questions, but did his best to make it clear that he knew what he was talking about when it came to the specifics of what he would be doing. He’d been interested in what went on behind the scenes of television broadcasts since he was a child, and the occasions where his father allowed him to stay behind the camera had allowed him to learn quite a bit. In the end, things had gone fairly well; with Eric’s knowledge and clear desire to learn, and Dr. Iplier’s recommendation, the young man got the job.

At first, Eric had been his usual anxious self. He tried his best not to screw up, starting out on the set of a news program run by a set of twins. They were energetic, and the camera work was sometimes fast and loose, but it was clear that their usual cameraman was glad to have an extra set of hands. Eric was able to help set up a switch system for their cameras, so that the usual tech could change between them more easily. After a few weeks, Eric was put on the set of a game show, but the noise proved to be too much for him, and he was moved to another set, Warfstache Tonight.

The Warfstache set was still chaotic, but the main showrunner made sure to keep the peace as much as she could. Eric seemed to fit right in on the set; he made suggestions concerning the placement of lights to cut down on awkward or distracting shadows, set up the cameras to better catch the faces of Wilford and his guests, and suggested they look into getting newer lavalier microphones, as the ones they were using were older and bulkier.

The thing with anxiety, though, is that someone can be doing well for a while, but it can take just one small thing to cause them great distress. Eric’s run of doing well was broken by a shot being fired from the revolver Wilford kept at his desk. The young man could feel the coil of panic tighten in his chest at the noise and stepped back from the camera. A second shot rang out, and Eric found he was shaking and it was getting harder to breathe. He ran out after a third shot was fired; he wasn’t thinking about anything but getting away from the noise.

Dark was forcing himself to take a break from his work. He was walking the halls of the office floor, checking in on the Google brothers and Host when he heard gunfire on the floor below them. He shook his head, knowing that it was Wilford slipping back to his old ways. The man didn’t think it would be worth the aggravation to go down and investigate; Kathryn would call him down if she couldn’t handle the situation on her own. Instead, he made his way to the bathroom, looking to check on his eyeliner, out of habit, mostly. When he went to enter, though, he was met with a surprise.

Rather than the usual silence, Dark could hear sniffling. None of the stalls seemed to be occupied at first glance, as none of them were locked, but one stall, down at the end of the row, was mostly shut, and Dark could see that there was somebody sitting on the floor. It wasn’t much of a mystery as to who it was.

“Eric?” Dark quietly addressed, approaching the stall where the young man had hidden himself away. He got no response as he got closer to the door, and he was able to see Eric sitting on the floor, hugging his knees to his chest, wringing his yellow handkerchief in his hands, while his head was down, hiding part of his face and his glasses which were fogging up from the heat of his face meeting the cool air in the bathroom. Dark knelt down near the young man, trying to think of what to do.

With everything that went on in his head, and everything he had experienced, Dark himself had developed anxiety; Dr. Iplier even brought up the possibility of him having PTSD, and Dark couldn’t disagree with that. He did his best to keep these things to himself, considering he had to manage most of the studio and keep his fellow egos in line. His symptoms weren’t usually all that intrusive, but there were days where Dark found it nearly impossible to function. Thus, Dr. Iplier had taught him a handful of techniques that helped. Now wasn’t the time for anything complicated, though. Eric needed something simple; he needed something to steady his breathing and to ground him.

“Eric, look at me,” Dark calmly urged. When the younger ego didn’t even glance up, he set a hand on his shoulder.

Eric looked up at Dark, looking at the man through his foggy glasses. His chest felt tight, and he couldn’t breathe easily. His hands were shaking as he held his handkerchief tight.

Dark carefully took Eric’s glasses off him, taking his own handkerchief out and wiping them clean before putting them back on the young man’s face. “Just focus on me, okay?” he suggested, keeping his voice calm and level. Eric nodded, and Dark returned the gesture, shifting to sit cross legged on the floor. He urged the young man in front of him to do the same, keeping a hand on his shoulder. The man carefully took one of Eric’s wrists in his hand, bringing the young man’s hand towards him, lightly pressing his hand to his chest.

Eric’s heart was still hammering in his chest, while his mind raced. He was trying his best to focus on the man in front of him, watching as the older ego held his hand to his chest, the grip on his wrist firm but caring.

“Focus on me,” Dark urged, his voice pulling Eric’s gaze to his face. “I want you to breathe with me, slow and deep,” he instructed. Before Eric was able to respond in any way, Dark began to take a deep breath, going slow and making sure Eric was following his lead. After holding the breath for a few seconds, he slowly exhaled. Dark didn’t need to breathe, not like the others did, but he had found that taking deep breaths even helped him, as it was something to focus on. He repeated the same cycle with Eric a few times, helping him settle his breathing, keeping the young man’s focus on him the entire time.

The young man focused on the figure in front of him. His breathing was slowing to a normal rate again, and his heart no longer felt like it was going to break through his chest. His thoughts had calmed down, as well, the panicked fog lifting.

“There we go,” Dark mused, his voice still soft as he let go of Eric’s wrist. “Can you tell me what happened?”

“I-I-I don’t know why… He, he just s-started shooting…” Eric stammered. His voice was hoarse from crying, and his throat was tight and dry, making his voice more quiet than usual. He could hardly remember what had even happened; the last thing he remembered was the gunfire, he couldn’t even recall why Wilford had started shooting in the first place.

“It’s alright, don’t get yourself worked up again. Host isn’t around today, but if you think it’ll help, we can get you a bottle of water and you can sit in my office where it’s quiet while I talk to Wilford. How does that sound?”

Eric could only nod, finding his throat too sore to speak up. He watched as Dark stood, and took his hand, pulling himself up. His legs were a bit shaky from the last bit of adrenaline coursing through his system, and there was no doubt he’d be exhausted for most of the afternoon because of the inevitable crash that was going to hit him. The young man walked with Dark, and the pair stopped to get Eric a bottle of water before going to Dark’s office.

He sat down on the black sofa in the office, taking a sip of his water while he watched Dark leave to talk with Wilford. Eric wasn’t sure how long he was alone in Dark’s office before the grey ego came back. The man didn’t seem much different than he usually was, he didn’t seem overly upset or annoyed, which Eric could only assume was a good thing.

“Kathryn is taking care of things,” Dark told Eric, sitting on the sofa, making sure Eric had a comfortable amount of space. “Wilford still has his job, for now, anyways. The next time he’s filming, either she or I will be on set with you, to make sure he doesn’t pull this sort of stunt again.”

“Thank you…” Eric replied, his voice still sounding a bit rough. “How did you learn how to do that…?”

“The deep breathing?” Dark questioned, looking towards the young man. Eric nodded. “Dr. Iplier taught me. Sometimes you just need something to focus on.”

“Do… Do you ever, u-um,” Eric began, uncertain of just how he should phrase what he wanted to ask.

“Get anxious? Have panic attacks?”

“Y-yeah…”

“I do. Not often, but sometimes.”

Eric looked at Dark, seeming a bit surprised at the response. “I never would have thought…”

“I manage it well. With Dr. Iplier’s help, I have more good days than bad ones. The important thing is to find something that works, whatever that might be. What I’ve found works for me is to just have something to focus on.”

“Like breathing.”

“Exactly. If you find yourself getting too worked up, just take deep breaths and count, just like we did today. Find something simple, and focus on it; ground yourself.”

“Alright,” Eric mumbled. The younger ego did his best to stifle a yawn, but the adrenaline crash was hitting him hard, tiring him out.

“I told Wilford and Kathryn that you would be here recovering,” Dark told him. “Katherine said you can stay with me as long as you need. Get some rest, Eric,” he suggested.

Eric nodded a bit, setting his water aside and settling on the sofa. It wasn’t long before he started to drift off, falling asleep in the quiet office. Dark pulled the dark red throw blanket off the back of the sofa and carefully draped it over the young man, before heading over to his desk. He kept an eye on Eric for a few moments, and soon started to settle in to his work, simply letting the other ego rest. It seemed Dr. Iplier had been right the last time they spoke about Eric. He, like Dark, needed something to focus on, and though Dark couldn’t do much for him, he could at least give him that; he could provide something Eric could focus on.

[starrysebastians]

walks of shame [4/5] : mornings after (a real walk of shame)

summary : chance encounters in embarrassing circumstances, that might lead to something more. that is, if you manage to find who that stranger is. 

(sorry it took so long, it’s back to school time, but thank you for the support??)

word count : 1.3k

"No!" you mouth, horror and dread written all over your features, hands reaching out towards the shaking bowl on the top shelf of the kitchen, but you're too small to actually grab it, meaning you have to catch it mid-air, and clearly, by the sound of china smashing on the ground,  blue and white pieces surrounding your bare feet, that is not something you can add to your skill set. "No, no, no," you whine, hands covering your face. There is nothing you can do to erase this noise, so loud it hurts your ears and probably made the building shake, and there's nothing you can do to keep the person currently sleeping in his bed from waking up and see what the commotion is about. Please, please, please be a heavy sleeper. Please. Pretty please.

Whipping your head around, assessing your surroundings, you carefully avoid getting a piece of bowl stuck in your feet before grabbing a broom and quickly gathering everything in the dustpan to throw it away. No one has to know. You can't wake him up to tell him about this incident because then you two will have to face each other — sober, not in a crowded and dark bar solely illuminated by neon lights — and you would die from awkwardness and embarrassment.

You have to run.

Your feet carry you to the large grey couch where you left — more like threw — your jacket, and you have to say goodbye to the prospect of a breakfast, even though your stomach is killing you and you need sugar after all the alcohol your drank last night because you're clearly suffering from hypoglycemia, but you would rather die from it than have to face a one night stand. Black heels in hand, you run to the front door, feet silently padding across the wooden floor, and fate is on your side today because the owner of the apartment didn't get the chance to lock his door last night. It slides shut behind you and you let out a relieved breath, tucking a strand of messy and unruly hair behind your ear.

When you reach the elevator, your heart is still pounding so fast and your cheeks are red and hot from shame and embarrassment because you broke something and you hate leaving like this, leaving one poor man to find broken pieces of china in his trash. Your back is resting against the elevator's wall, eyes screwed shut because there is this pounding in your head and you feel like you're in a boat, a boat swaying — probably hit an iceberg and about to drown. You were on the ninth floor, and the elevator stops at the eight. You bite back a groan, straightening up and opening your eyes to look somewhat decent. Or a least like a normal humain being.

"What the fuck?"  

Mouth wide open, a gasp.

"What are you — "

"Why are you — "

The doors slide close behind him, and you probably look like a deer caught in headlights.

"This is my building. I live here." He states, his face almost blank because he's so confused. It's six in the morning, and everyone here is too sleepy to comprehend what is happening.

"I…well. I do not live here." Is the only answer you can think of.

"Yes, I know that. I would know. I mean I think I would." He pauses. "Please tell me you didn't spend the night with that asshole on the tenth floor. He throws these loud ass parties that everyone always tolerates and — " You just stare at his lips while they move, and they're very pretty. " — he's just so rude."

Your brain is too slow to actually understand the reason why he is an asshole, but you shake your head, instantly regretting it because it sends a wave of nausea. "I was on the ninth floor." You say and your throat hurts, which he can probably hear by the sound of your unusually scratchy voice.

The elevator doors open and you follow him out — you try to, because you stumble and you have to stop for a moment, a hand on the wall to support yourself.

"Shit, you okay?" You can only moan in response. "Are you gonna be sick?" You screw your eyes shut ag ain, trying to take deep breaths to stop what's coming. "Okay — I'll take that as a yes."

Before the doors can close behind you, both of his hands are on your waist and he pushes you back into the elevator, keeping you close to him even though you're going up and you're not gonna fall. His hands are gentle and warm and you lean on his side, face nuzzled in shoulder, cheek rubbing against his t-shirt. "Please do not throw up in the elevator. Or on me." You want to laugh, you really do, but you feel to faint to do anything.

The dinging sound echoes in a unpleasant way in your head, and you let him guide you through the corridors, before he comes to a halt and unlocks a door — his door? He doesn't let go of you, and instead of giving you the necessary directions, he just pushes you towards the toilets, hands still gripping your waist. It doesn't take long for the wave of nausea to hit you painfully, and he's right there to grab your hair and hold it in a ponytail, while gently stroking your back. When you're done you can only lean back, and his chest is probably as hard as any wall you could rest on.

"I'm sorry," you mumble, eyes closed, and he rocks you a little.

"It's fine."

"This is really embarrassing. I wish I could meet you under normal circumstances."

"But maybe we wouldn't meet at all. I like it that way. Always full of surprises."

"Full of vomit, you mean."

His chest shakes against you and you smile lazily because you feel warm, he's got his hands wrapped around your stomach so that you're tightly secured in his arms, and his skin and so soft and —

"Do you have any plans today?"

"This is not really a glamorous moment to ask me on a date, you know?" His chest shakes again. "But I don't have anything planned besides trying to survive."

"Listen. I was on my way to work and I'm gonna be late. But how about you stay there? I only have a few scenes to shoot and I'll be home before lunch. You can take a shower, get changed — just go through my stuff for a sweater and everything, and then you can take my bed and sleep, watch TV, do whatever you want. We'll order some take out when I come back. What do you say?"

"I'm…," you're about to answer but then something clicks in your mind. "What do you mean, scenes to shoot? Are you an actor? Because I thought your face looked kinda familiar but I figured it was just because I kept bumping into you." You ramble for another thirty seconds while he helps you up, watching you with a small smirk.

"We'll actually get to know each other when I come back, okay?" you nod numbly, and he lets you go for a second, rummaging through, a cabinet. "For the headache." He hands you a bottle of pills, and then points to another drawer. "You can probably find a spare toothbrush here, and just — search through the whole apartment if you need anything. I don't care. And find something to eat too, you look so pale."

You nod again, overwhelmed with new information and cabinet and drawer placements and also by the size of his loft, the view, the pretty furniture and the tasteful decoration. The sound of his keys jingling in his hands grabs your attention and your eyes are back into his.

"See you later," he smiles, and you smile back with rosy cheeks.

Maybe walks of shame are worth it after all.

[desparikon]

Fanfic misfires feat. Murdoc

1. Murdoc/Mac (really short, but I wanted to experiment with a texting convo format)

2. Murdoc/Bozer (Bozer paints Murdoc’s nails.)

3. Murdoc/Bozer, but kinda ended up leaning toward Bozer/Murdoc/Mac (Bozer and Murdoc feeding off each other’s chaotic energy to out-drama each other.)

My heart was overjoyed when I saw that notification Knowing that you missed me so much that you had to text me... 🖤 I knew you wouldn't be able to stay away

💘 How can I not think about you? We're inseparable now But do we have to be doomed to fight until separated by 💀 ?

Is it terrifying to know that it'll be yours? By my hand?

I don't believe that you want me dead

Whether or not you want to believe it, even though it physically hurts me to say it I'll be the death of you

You say that to hide what you really want 😏 😏 😏 😏 😏 😏 You're lonely, I'm lonely... 💔

Talking with you only makes me miss you more, sets my heart 🔥 Maybe I'll come visit you, I'm not far...

Only if you promise to be gentle

Through pain comes pleasure, and you've teased for far too long Surely you know that the longer you deny yourself, the more pleasure you gain

🔥 🔥 🔥 🔥 🔥 🔥 What're you gonna do? Sneak into my room and stab me??? 😏 😏 😏 😏  🍆

"Oh fuck." Mac flattened himself against the edge of the kitchen counter, wide eyes staring down at his phone.

"What?" Bozer grabbed his phone after receiving no answer. And struggled to contain his laughter once he saw what Mac had been texting to Murdoc. "Mac, what the Hell!"

"I--The phone did that!"

"Twenty bucks says he'll be here in ten minutes."

"M-Maybe he didn't notice it. Y'know what? It's fine. I don't think he's actually nearby. ...Fuck."

"I mean, yeah, what'd you expect? Flirting with Murdoc like that."

"It wasn't flirting! It was banter!"

"What's the difference?"

The doorbell rang, sending Mac into a panic, while Bozer sweetly called out, "Who is it??"

"Boz, stop!" Mac harshly whispered, grabbing Bozer's arm to prevent him from opening the door.

"Mac, let go! Someone's at the door!"

"Doesn't mean you have to answer it!"

The doorbell rang again. "Coming!"

—————————————————————————

"What're you doing?" Bozer felt like he was babysitting, the quiet clinking of glass tipping him off that Murdoc was probably getting into something he shouldn't.

The clinking abruptly stopped. "Nothing!"

"Are you going through my stuff again?" He recapped his marker, and turned around to find Murdoc rummaging through one of his drawers of art supplies along the garage wall. "Hey!" He walked over to shoo Murdoc away, but his annoyance turned to surprise once he saw what Murdoc was holding. "You're going to paint your nails?"

"Once I decide what color." He showed Bozer the violet nail polish he was holding. "I like this one, but do you have anything sparkly?"

"I think." Bozer searched and handed him the sparkly colors. He'd only found four, but he hoped one of them would be acceptable. All he wanted now was to see Murdoc with painted nails.

"Oh, I like this one!" Murdoc held the bottle up to get more light. It looked like plain black with sparkle flecks, but the light revealed the rainbow holographic effect. "It's like a space rainbow trapped in a bottle." He put the others back in the drawer, and sat in Bozer's chair at the table.

"Hang on a sec!" Bozer grabbed the bottles out of Murdoc's hand on his way to sit across the table. "I'll paint your nails."

Murdoc leaned forward, and attempted to steal them back, but Bozer held them out of reach. "Why? You're already busy." Bozer slid his project to the other end of the table before Murdoc's hand could make contact.

Definitely not because he'd love to use Murdoc as a live canvas for future projects...

And definitely not because he simply enjoyed touching Murdoc.

"Because. It's mine and I said so."

"But then I won't be able to present my hand to you so you can compliment it," Murdoc whined.

"Do that to Mac when he gets here."

Murdoc laid his hands on the table. "I guess that's a fair trade. Can't really say no to being pampered."

Bozer adjusted Murdoc's hands on the table until he found a placement where he could be comfortable and hopefully have the best angle for lighting. He shook the bottle of violet nail polish, deciding that the lighter color would show fewer mistakes than the black, and he needed all the help he could get until he got back into practice.

"Does it matter which hand?"

"Left."

"OK, just...hold still and let me do this."

He concentrated on making three brush strokes per nail, vaguely remembering that he'd heard that somewhere. The first stripe he made down the center of Murdoc's nail was mostly straight. But the two side strokes bled onto the skin.

"My hand just has to remember how to do this," he quickly reassured Murdoc (and himself).

Less polish on the brush for the next nail.

And now he'd left see-through spots that'd need another coat. While still getting nail polish onto the surrounding skin.

By the time he'd completely finished Murdoc's first hand, Bozer was frustrated with himself and his messy paint job. He inwardly sighed, preparing himself for Murdoc's snarky comments.

"One hand done. Do you like it?"

"I do! You did such a good job, I feel so spoiled."

A small smile spread on Bozer's face, Murdoc's compliment easing his frustration. He absently ran his finger down a couple of Murdoc's. "It's not perfect, but I think I can get some of the extra off. I'll look it up later."

"It doesn't have to be perfect. I just like having the color on my nails."

Why Murdoc was being so nice, he didn't know, but he'd take it.

At least the black hid the brush strokes, and easily covered in one coat. Though, it was more obvious when the polish ended up on Murdoc's skin, but he was too distracted by the holographic effect.

"It’s definitely eyecatching. Too bad you wear gloves all the time, huh?"

"Only when I'm working. But I'll still enjoy knowing it's there." Murdoc fluttered his fingers, smirking as Bozer watched the rainbow. "Jealous?"

"Kinda."

"...Do you want me to paint your nails?"

"Yes!"

—————————————————————————

"Touch the baby again, and I'm pressing charges!" Bozer slapped Murdoc's hand away as he spun around to prevent him from getting his new prop.

"Who decided that you get full custody of our child?"

"I did! I'm judge, jury, and executioner all in one!"

"I can't visit even once?"

"Well... Yeah, it's OK, I guess." He turned back around, and held the baby up so Murdoc could get a good look.

"The fu...?"

Bozer had bought it when the Halloween stores were running clearance, and they'd since dubbed it the Zombie Vampire baby. It looked like a zombie, with its greenish-gray skin, and evil, cloudy red eyes, but that didn't explain the fangs hanging off each side of its mouth, and the long, pointy nails.

Mac stifled his laughter at Murdoc's surprise. He admired Bozer for being able to keep a straight face.

"Do you like it? It definitely takes after you."

Murdoc quickly recovered, a grin spreading across his face. "Mmhm. Wow, yeah, I see."

Mac immediately recognized the syrup-sweet voice that Murdoc reserved exclusively for shit-starting. They were in for it now; Bozer had effectively challenged Murdoc for the title of Most Dramatic, and Murdoc is not one to be easily out-drama-ed.

Murdoc clapped his hands together, and stared at Bozer with wide, eager eyes. "So when's the exorcism?"

Bozer pulled the baby back and glared. "How dare you talk about our child like that!" He hugged it tightly, whispering, "Did you hear that? Daddy Murdoc doesn't love you."

Mac groaned as he started down the stairs to go inside. "'Daddy Murdoc'?! I'm out."

"Your bad attitude made Mac leave!"

"Me? I just wanted to know if you plan on waking up tomorrow morning."

"Are you threatening me?"

"I’m not.”

Mac hurried to the fridge and grabbed a few sodas. Bozer and Murdoc feeding off each other's chaotic energy was a special form of entertainment. They could rapidly get out of hand, and he hated to miss a second of it.

When he stepped back out onto the deck, he could feel the dramatic mood change. And he'd hadn't even been gone for a whole minute. Bozer stood at the railing, glaring daggers into Murdoc's back. Murdoc stared at the ground like it was most interesting thing in the world.

Dammit. He'd missed something good.

"How's the happy couple?" He dumped the sodas on the nearby table, eager to hear what ridiculous stunt Murdoc had pulled in his absence.

"Fine." Murdoc glanced at him and smiled, looking guilty as Hell.

"I want a divorce!"

"We're getting divorced. Irreconcilable differences."

"Irreconcilable differences?! You threw our baby off the balcony!"

"It's not my fault that thing decided to propel itself over the railing, and into the distance, never to be seen again!"

Murdoc gasped as Mac burst out laughing. "Angus! How dare you laugh at our broken marriage!" He flopped into the nearest chair, and sniffled, "Rude."

Bozer smirked before walking over, and putting his hand on the chair's arm, over Murdoc's. "What if I want to save our marriage? You'll help me, right?"

"Anything for you, darling."

"I was hoping you'd say that. See, I was thinking that there's two options that could save us."

"Oh?"

"The first choice is giving me snacks."

Murdoc rolled his eyes. "So you're too lazy to go into the kitchen. Fine."

"It has to be something you brought."

"You know I don't carry around food."

"But everything tastes better when you bring it."

"I'm a guest in your house. You should be giving me food, not the other way around."

"Alright, alright. Want to hear your other option? I really think you'll like it."

"I'm sure."

"We make this a party." Bozer pushed Murdoc's coat off his shoulders. "We all know what's coming later." He ran his hands down Murdoc's sides, and rested them on his hips. "Why don't you save us the trouble, and just take it all off now?"

"Yesssss!" Mac leaned over the back of Murdoc's chair.

Murdoc snorted. "I feel like these choices are just a little...unbalanced."

"But this one's your only choice, isn't it? Since you just admitted that you don't have any food."

"So that's it then? Bring snacks or strip?"

"Are you getting shy all of the sudden? Or do you just need some help?" Mac pulled the bottom of Murdoc's shirt up so Bozer could run his hand over Murdoc's bare skin.

"OK. OK! I'll give you what you want." He pulled his coat off, and into his lap so he could bury a hand into one of the deep pockets. He pulled out a large ziploc bag of candy, and presented it to Bozer.

Bozer's eyes lit up as he grabbed the bag. "Divorce is off!" He pulled a couple pieces out of the bag before handing it to Mac, happy to share the bounty. "But your clothes will be coming off later."

"Hey, a lot of these have Halloween wrappers... Did you take Cassian trick-or-treating, then steal his candy?"

Murdoc shot him an offended glare. "Of course not! I traded him out of my secret candy stash for the candy he didn't like. And since I don't like any of those either, I thought maybe you two would like them. See how my kindness was rudely taken advantage of?"

"I've never seen your candy stash any of the times I've been in your house."

"That's why it's a secret."

"You don't have a secret candy stash. You bought candy specifically to trade with Cassian!"

"I did not."

"You totally did!"

"No. It's just--It sucks when you hate some of the most popular candies, and--"

"That's adorable!!" Bozer threw himself into Murdoc's lap and wrapped his arms around him, while Mac hugged Murdoc around his shoulders and rubbed his face against Murdoc's cheek.

"So cute!"

"Ewwwww, feelings."

[psi-psina]

Namba Hatch 25/26 ♡

04/25

00. SE

01. 谿壑の欲 

02. Downfall 

03. 人間を被る 

04. 理由 

05. Ash 

06. Rubbish  Heap

07. DOZING GREEN

08. 赫 

09. Celebrate Empty Howls

10. undecided 

11. Ranunculus 

12. Devote My Life

13. 軽蔑と始まり

14. Values of Madness

15. 詩踏み 

16. Followers 

17. 鬼眼 

18. Revelation of mankind

19. THE DEEPER VILENESS 

20. 冷血なりせば

I’ll get straight to the point, Kyo was very disappointed tonight and he ended the show really pissed off. He didn’t go very crazy during encore and at the end of Reiketsu he just leaned on his crate for a moment and then turned around and walked off, well before it was all over. 

Kyo visited kamite during Values of Madness, and according to a couple of people there, there were a couple of idiots goofing around chatting with each other and taking photos of the show. Kyo very abruptly stopped singing and he did shout at them (“You fucking idiots/jerks” - obviously not with the mic) and REALLY threw down the mic, and retreated, showing us his back for a number of beats before picking it up again. I only actually saw from when he threw down the mic because I had been headbanging and had an obstructed view so I didn’t know what had caused him to react like that until after the show. And it’s been well reported already that there was also an obnoxious group up on the balcony who were apparently drunk, and also just standing around chatting and causing problems. I had a fairly obstructed view for parts of the set last night and in shimote at least the crowd was very energetic, so I had trouble taking everything in. 

Overall the crowd tonight was definitely a mixed bag and also a bit of a mess, right from the start. During the rush forward I fell due to like 3 people stacking it in front of me and one girl losing her shoe. I hope no one was badly hurt, I got a scrape on my knee weirdly, and also hurt my right foot. 😂 

The sound seemed a liiiiiiitle bit off for a Hatch show tonight? I don’t know if that had anything to do with the poorer impression of the show.

The other guys were pretty normal but were not as energetic as they were in Nagoya, especially Toshiya. Kaoru went over to kamite I think twice and Toshiya maybe 3 times over the whole night and I also don’t recall any of them visiting Shinya tonight, which they have been doing at least once at the other shows. Kyo and Die did not visit shimote ONCE the whole night. :( Overall they were not very active. But honestly, with all that being said, I gave everything I could and I still had a fantastic live. There was just a bit of an awkward feeling at times.

They opened with Keigaku again and I didn’t get to writing about this in the Nagoya report idk I just forgot but can I just say….Keigaku live is just on a whole other fuckin level…the sheer extent of how EPIC this song is live and how good those SUCCULENT transitions are without TIW’s mix dampening them is BEYOND, GUYS. IT. IS. BEYOND. Absolutely lap. that. shit. up!!! Also, Keigaku is SUCH a good opener like ARGGGG I love it sooo much. AND THEN DOWNFALL AND NINGEN TONIGHT AHHHH!!! Such a response, I could just let all my feelings out. 😭 I wanted to try to pay more attention to what is shown on the screen during Downfall and Rubbish Heap tonight but I utterly failed. RUBBISH HEAP tonight was THE BEST!! I didn’t see shit because I was too busy headbanging and jumping and screaming!

Celebrate Empty Howls did not land tonight, there was a weird shift in the mood during this song because the crowd tonight just didn’t really connect to it imho. I blame this on it’s placement in the setlist again. It genuinely felt like no one, not even particularly Kyo, was really in the mood for Celebrate tonight after Aka, esp because Dozing and Aka were so so spellbinding, everyone was deep in this atmosphere and then Celebrate just didn’t really work with it (that was my feeling). Tonight I probably felt Celebrate the least out of any night. undecided and Ranunculus followed and Kyo again cried horribly when he sang undecided, but this performance also had a…different feeling. Tonight he had this hopelessness when singing undecided that I have't seen at the other lives….during the previous lives even when he wept he sang with this strength and soulfulness that completely broke my heart and made me cry. Tonight it was more broken. 

When Kyo spoke to us during encore, he spoke us very roughly and also largely without the mic. He snarled and truly riled us as much as he could, he also growled “BOBOZAGA” twice. 

The Deeper Vileness went beyond my wildest dreams and I managed to get a look at Kaoru during the PITCH and oh my god his expression. if the sentiment of “i am a fucking GOD” could be distilled into a single expression, that was it. He looked so fucking satisfied and honestly I just lost it. Also had a spectacular time of Reiketsu, truly, it was overall a fantastic live and I’m genuinely sorry that Kyo's impression of the night was turned to shit by various things. He didn’t headbang Reiketsu but left the stage almost immediately after the final “SUCK ME” (fitting final words…) and that was when his displeasure became extremely clear to me.

04/26

00. SE

01. 赫 

02. Downfall 

03. 人間を被る 

04. Rubbish Heap 

05. Ash 

06. Values of Madness

07. DOZING GREEN

08. 谿壑の欲 

09. Celebrate Empty Howls

10. undecided 

11. Ranunculus 

12. Devote My Life

13. 軽蔑と始まり 

14. 獣慾 

15. 詩踏み 

16. Followers 

17. 鬼眼 

18. Sustain the untruth

19. GRIEF 

20. 冷血なりせば

Tonight was a true Namba Hatch show from start to finish. It was ROUGH in the pit and the intensity of the fans was totally consuming. Kyo’s words after the first day had a very, very clear effect. I ended up being in the Kyo pit after two crushes and the absolute fervor to give him satisfaction tonight was extremely palpable. You could feel it from all sides. And despite not containing Vileness, this setlist is also at least 70% better than the other variation; Celebrate was a BLAST tonight and works a thousand times better following Keigaku, and Juuyoku bests Wake at literally any table. (I kinda wish they’d left out Wake entirely on this tour tbh, it’s not that I haven't appreciated the song itself, there are just songs that’d work soooo much better in it’s place…especially bc it’s still weirdly paired up with Ash).

I truly can’t write much about this night due to the sheer intensity of it. Words are lacking and I’m also still physically recovering from it. During Juuyoku I was having abdominal pain from the exertion and I was pretty dizzy for most of Utafumi. It was like the 2nd night at Shinkiba with the intensity dialled up by 1000%. We were packed together and while it was violent, the violence arose from the sheer intensity and VOLUME of energy everyone was giving, not from being selfish or inconsiderate; no one around me was treating other people like an obstacle, the overall feeling was remarkably supportive.

I will say that this was genuinely Kyo’s night, it was his finale. I don’t know why, but like on the first night, the other guys were not even trying to compete with him for attention and really seemed just….pretty chill. Toshiya came to the middle once or twice but didn’t go to kamite at all and Kaoru and Die really only moved around the stage during Sustain (far as I can remember). They weren’t particularly working the crowd but just gave pretty normal performances. This ain’t no criticism!!!! I’m just not used to having such a lack of impressions from the other guys, but it definitely didn’t help that I was in Kyo pit.

Kyo absolutely SHOWERED both sides with attention during Sustain, he was absolutely LIVING ♡ and holy shit I could not BELIEVE the sound that went up from shimote when he went over there, the roaring was drowning out the instruments for me. 😁 I distinctly remember Kaoru coming over to stand in front of us during Sustain and I was about to go crazy but a;skjdnf Kyo was distracting LITERALLY EVERYONE over in shimote, and no one really shouted, and my “KAORU KAORU KAORU!!!!!!!!’s” were totally drowned out by everyone else alskdnf and he just stood there chillin’ staring off into the middle distance, I was like ALKSJND BITCH! I’M LITERALLY ABOUT TO DIE FOR YOU!!! UGH! I miss you, I just want one ROAR face!! KAJNsdljn

There was only one damper on the atmosphere during the whole night and it was during undecided when about three people in the Kyo pit needed help from staff, I think they needed water and at least one person had to be pulled out. People were definitely trying to disrupt as little as possible but, it can’t be helped. So undecided was a little bit muted because of this distraction but everyone remained gracious. Kyo’s performance was more sedate, but he still wept.

I wept during Ranunculus, again. Not as badly as in Shinkiba (day 2), which was UGLY. Ranunculus never fails to bring tears but obviously some nights are a lot worse than others. Hearing Kyo’s heavy/shaking breaths at the end/throughout the song is also just too much to bear.

Followers was absolutely wonderful tonight, it’s truly a song you wanna be in front of Kyo for ♡ and oh man the feeling that was given tonight…I can’t put words to it 😭

There was one song…I think it was Ash, at the end of it Kyo knelt on his crate and mussed up his hair so it stuck out everywhere and bared his teeth at us in this very mischievous grin. ♡

Kyo spoke with great passion during the encore, he told us to fucking lose our voices, lose our necks and i LOVE seeing him headbang like this again! Bobozaga did not make another appearance.

He collapsed after Reiketsu and then made it over to the drums where he lit a cigarette and took a moment and then came back to the front with a water bottle. He looked extremely replete ♡ He splashed us with water a bit and threw the bottle in, and he also went to shimote and splashed two girls on the rail with water and gave one of them the bottle 🙏🏾 He came back to the centre and threw in his towel after wiping his face with it. He put his hand on his heart and called out “Osaka” and also blew us a fox kiss before he waved bye-bye. ♡♡♡

these are extremely incomplete but it’s basically all I can manage ♡ I met so many people on this tour and there are a number that I am extremely thankful for, I’m looking forward to the autumn tour and hopefully a number of reunions very, very much ♡

I love Dir so much ♡

[caffeineivore]

So yes Spirits again...

I am trying to like, find the plot of this thing. I don’t know if there is one.

A/Z. Prompts used: Blue, melody

**

The building is standard industrial concrete, the sort which could become anything and everything from a distribution warehouse to a dance studio, and is all but empty inside when Zhen unlocks the door.

“My latest acquisition,” he tells her with a wry smile. “It used to house a self-storage company until they got into some trouble with the law. Big sting, lots of contraband of the weapons and drugs variety.” A whimsical smile crosses his mouth. “I bought it because it was cheap, but also because the walls are blue.”

It’s just the sort of fanciful thing he’d say, green-gold eyes gazing deeply into her blue ones as his smile grows, and it’s hard not to be charmed, even though she knows quite well that the charisma is part of his birthright. But she’s never been the sort to give in so easily, and so she raises an eyebrow instead of smiling. “Did you have any particular plan for this building? It could become anything, really. I’m sure Jareth would have a few notions of what to do with it if you asked.”

“He’d probably suggest turning it into something horrifying, like a Target with a Starbucks built inside,” Zhen affects an exaggeratedly scandalized expression. “Perhaps he’d come up with something even more soulless and appalling. He’s a terrifyingly creative fellow.”

Raina can’t quite hold back a giggle at the very idea of Jareth, with his discerning Ælf-kine sensibilities, partaking in anything so plebeian as the design and construction of a Target of all places. “Well. I’m quite sure it’d be a profitable endeavour if you did decide upon that.”

“Undoubtedly, but the headaches wouldn’t be worth it. Mortals are so aggravatingly rude in those types of shops. Especially middle-aged women with coupons and caterwauling offspring.” He blinks his eyes slowly, almost drowsily, the way a fox might upon catching sight of a hare it didn’t want to spook, then throws up both hands, palms outwards. And then, right in front of her eyes, the room begins to fill, furnishings and decor appearing all around them as though conjured under the wand of a stage magician. And yet... Raina takes a half-step back, right into a padded high-top stool the likes of which wouldn’t be out of place at any dim, intimate whiskey bar. She reaches out and feels smooth-worn wood underneath her fingers, and then in her view, a glistening row of bottles appear. Some bluesy melody plays in the background, a smokey rasp of a torch singer’s voice against syncopated drumbeats and the sultry wail of a saxophone. It’s so realistic, so tangible to all the senses that she would never have thought it an illusion had she not just walked into an empty building a few minutes ago.

“Impressive,” she breathes, running her fingers over the wood of the bar. Almost immediately, a squat tumbler of amber-hued single-malt Scotch on the rocks appears in front of her, the icy condensation cold and wet against her fingertips, the rich yet astringent smell of the alcohol pungent on the air. She takes a cautious, tiny sip-- it even tastes like expensive liquor-- and yet there’s something subtly lacking, as though her body doesn’t recognize it as alcohol consumption and cue in the metabolic process of converting the ethanol molecules into acetaldehyde. For all it tastes and looks and smells like Scotch, it has none of the chemical or physiological properties. An illusion, almost flawless, but not quite.

“I don’t drink, not anymore,” Zhen gives her a crooked, self-deprecating grin. “The last time I did, I ended up on a misadventure which ended up with me caught in the business end of an abandoned hunter’s trap in the mountains for a good six months. I was starving and almost feral by the end of that ordeal, by the time I’d finally gotten free. Your colleague actually found me in his backyard. Fed me a cold plate of leftovers. He was perhaps three or four years old, then.”

Raina pauses, and then, in her usual quick fashion, she connects the dots. “I wondered why you acted like you were running into an old friend at Adam’s wedding.” She also knew the bare-bones story about Adam King’s story-- a rough childhood with poor, dysfunctional biological parents which could have ended up as any number of tragic statistics, an alcohol-induced car accident which he miraculously survived, then an auspicious placement with an adoptive family that turned his life around and brought him to the place he was today. ‘It was as though I had a guardian angel who brought me out of that car wreck and into a new world,’ Adam had said to her before. Smiling, she steps away from the hyper-realistic bar and up to Zhen, reaches up with her cool fingers and touches his warm cheek. “You went to bless his marriage. That’s why you started seeing me. So you’d have a reason to be there.”

Slowly, he nods, and with a slow flicker like a set of lights blinking out, the whiskey bar disappears, accoutrement by accoutrement, until it’s just the two of them standing together in an empty warehouse again. Oddly enough, though, the bluesy music continues to play, softer and sweeter now, as though coming from the next room. He dips his head, covers her fingers with his own even as he brushes his lips over her forehead. “I did, I suppose, have ulterior motives when I met you. Not bad ones, but I didn’t just meet you for you. Until... there you were.” His eyes meet hers over the curve of a gentle, ironic smile. “I was captivated, you know. And then, immediately, sad. People live such short, short lives. I knew, if I got close to you, I’d be devastated if you left me. And yet I couldn’t resist. Do you forgive me?”

Raina thinks of her mother, who’d been wooed by a mortal man and married him hundreds of years ago. Her father had been a portrait painter for a Renaissance court, and enjoyed fame and privilege from his talent and the great wealth that his fae wife had brought with her as a dowry. But three times he’d broken his word to her mother, and so she’d left him, taking Raina with her to be raised in the Old Way. Her father had died penniless and broken-hearted, abandoning his prosperous post in court for painting water-scapes, turbulent, murky things as he’d gone from creek to lake to sea, bewailing his fortune and begging forgiveness from a wife who would never return.

“Will you promise never to lie to me, or break your word?” She feels as though she’s standing on a precipice, gazing into the unknown depths. She barely remembers what her father looked like, but she’d inherited his dark hair. She imagines that he must have been handsome, perhaps almost as charming as Zhen, agreeing readily to that which her mother had asked of him in a haze of enchantment.

He kisses her forehead again, then dips his head to kiss her mouth, lips warm and dry against her cool, damp ones. “I won’t make any promises,” his mouth traces the words against hers, feather-light. “I won’t make any promises that I might ultimately break, be it through fate or will.” The cavernous room changes again, filling with rows of well-worn pews. The music changes to something more solemn and grand, pipe-organ rather than saxophone, and the flickering light and faint scent of candles fills the air, though lacking something of the heat. It’s just the sort of back-drop, the appropriate setting, where a man might make his vows. The candlelight forms a halo around the old-gold curls of his hair, and he takes her hand, lays a kiss over the back of each. “I will make you one promise, and one promise only. And that will be to love you for as long as we both shall live.” 

The room is all skillful illusion and the man is all consummate charm, and yet, Raina finds it in herself to believe him. She slides her fingers through the tousled silk of his hair, then skims them over the nape of his neck, reveling a bit at his involuntary shiver as his lips home in on hers. “We may both live for a long time yet.” The words are muffled against his mouth, his skin, and his response is almost lost against her own.

“I stand by my promise.” 

At some point, later, the room shifts again, transforming into what almost looks like a luxurious suite of rooms out of a mansion somewhere. Zhen lifts her off her feet, depositing her onto soft sheets that feel precisely like silk underneath her fingertips. She finds herself laughing, even as he kisses all the skin he can reach, clever fingers tugging at fabric to expose more. “I should have figured you’d bring me here to make love.” 

He doesn’t say anything in response to that. But the bluesy melody starts playing again in the background, a sultry-hot caress of notes in the air with the weight of fingers on bare skin.

[writemoment]

The Cold Reality Pt.1

Writer: Ellie-Mae (Pen Name)

Part: 1/5

Summary: People leaving you is inevitable in life, that's what y/n's come to learn. No one really lasts, even when promises are made, everyone fades away eventually. One day, y/n's almost killed when caught in the middle of an Avengers battle but gets whisked out of harms way by a pale, dark haired man, dressed in green and gold. Soon, secrets and feelings get mixed into her once ordinary life as she's thrown into unimaginable situations - Will this be the start of a mischievous but unavoidable ending?

Pairing: Marvel Loki x Reader

Warnings/Rated: Chitauri attack, arguing, mild swearing (I guess?) and angst. Word Count: 6,104

A/N: I’M BAAACCKK - Ellie-Mae <3

( Readers ) P.O.V.

Trust. 

Trust comes easily to most, or at least easier than I encounter. As someone who wears their heart on their sleeve, I've come to pile on brick after brick to build a wall for my own protection. Because no matter how much someone swears to you or even convinces you of their placement in your life, they leave. It's not their fault, truly. I'm not sure who's to blame. Maybe it's me, loving too much or maybe not enough. Either way, whether it's friendships or love, it all ends sooner or later. Most often, sooner than you would have hoped for.

My finger absentmindedly traces the rim of my coffee cup as I stare outside the shop's window. People wander along the streets, living out their mundane life much like myself. Really, I mean just look at where I'm at; sitting at a lonesome table by the window, sipping cold coffee and watching others live. Nothing good ever happens to someone as unextraordinary as me.

Sighing, I lean back into my chair and bring my coffee cup to my lips, sipping on the no-longer-warm beverage. Loud police sirens echo from a distance, not making me think too much of it. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of fast moving passerby's and soon following, everyone starts running away.

Pushing my chair back, I round the table to get a better look at the cause of the commotion and whether I should join the crowd in fleeing. Through the shrieking crowd, I can make out figures standing tall through the flood of people.

Dark skinned, alien looking creatures with a robotic like demeanor begin wrecking havoc with everything in their wake and I know that I can't just stand by to watch. Stumbling backwards, I begin notifying everyone in the shop (that hasn't already noticed the hectic activities outside) to leave as quickly as possible. 

After running behind the counter to let the workers know, they tell me to lead everyone out the back door so they can make a quick retreat to safety. The atmosphere is thick with panic but thankfully the few people that are left in the building remain calm enough to not push their way through.

Just as the last person disappears behind the counter, I turn around upon hearing the glass shatter and I'm faced with the creatures I've been helping others to escape from. Pushing myself from the broken glass, where the creature is stationed, I try to take off after those who've already left through the ally.

However, my much smaller statute does little to help since the creature is tall and easily advances, gaining on me in no time. It's rough, almost armored, hands wrap around my bicep, gripping me tightly to hold me to the spot.

Feeling my heartbeat pick up, I frantically pull away, kicking and punching with all the strength I can manage to muster. This seems to go unnoticed by the creature as it drags me away, outside the window and into the open. All around me is widespread panic and I can see others in a similar position as me.

Just as I'm about to accept that there's no escape, a group of people rush forward, knocking out the enemies as they make their way through. Unfortunately, my assailant takes notice as well, gripping me so hard that I can feel my skin tear open at it's sharpness.

Throwing me to the concrete, my head hits the rough pavement, my hands taking very little off of the blow. The sound of a gun cocking fills my ears and it feels like time stills as I turn to see a foreign contraption pointing at me. My blood runs cold and the chaos surrounding me is muffled by my heart pounding in my ears.

All I can manage with my bloodied arm and hands, paired with my spinning head is to inch my way back from the danger before me. Hearing the alien-looking gun charge, I close my eyes but the shot doesn't hit me.

Flinging my lids open, I see a man in front of me with the creature dead at his feet. His icy blue eyes meet mine but I can't concentrate enough to see his features. All I can feel is a searing pain shooting through my arm and I cry out at the sensation. The corners of my vision start fading into black and the last thing I see before passing out is the stark blue of the protector.

****

Ouch, everything hurts. Ouch! It hurts to even think.

My head is throbbing and I soon realize that my body is feeling no better. Opening my eyes, I flinch at the bright florescent lights that bounce off the room. "Ah!" I groan but the noise just adds onto the enhanced feeling of pain.

Faintly, I hear the sound of footsteps circling me but I pay no attention to it since my focus is on controlling this awful feeling that's coursing through every ounce of my body. Out of nowhere, there's a sharp stab in my forearm but I can't bring myself to look.

Instantly, the pain begins to fade from my body, leaving only the throbbing of my head behind. The relief brings a sigh from my lips. Attempting to open my eyes once more, I peak through my lashes and see that I'm laying in some kind of infirmary. I can tell this isn't the hospital, no, this isn't a place of public access.

A woman with red colored hair carries a tray with the needle away and the glass door closes behind her. The sound of the footsteps, traipsing around again, brings my attention to the culprit. Searching the room for the sound, I soon see a man with long black hair, pale skin and green attire with gold accents. 

With his back facing me, I can only see his profile as he gives a quick glance in my direction. All of this is very strange for me and none of it is familiar. Well, that's until the man turns to me and I find myself gazing into the same blue eyes from before.

The one who protected me...

Clearing his throat lightly, my attention is snapped back to the present and I see the pale man waiting patiently for me to focus. "Are you feeling any better?" His silky voice asks me. I didn't expect the soft and polite words to fall from his lips.

"Yes. Just a bit of a headache, but I'm much better than before. Thank you." I say, trying to return the polite tone. Tilting his head to the side, he walks over to a metal cabinet and rummages through it's contents. Finding what he was searching for, he closes the doors and walks over to me with a bottle in hand.

Without exchanging a single word, he hands me a few headache pills and brings over a paper cup of water to wash the medication down. I murmur another 'thank you' to him, in which he replies with a curt nod.

Our eyes connect briefly and all the memories of the attack on the city rush back to me at the sight of the icy color. My body trembles with a shiver passing through me, goosebumps standing tall. The thing that snaps me back to my surroundings is the sound of the glass door opening.

Looking up, I see that the man has moved to the other side of the room and the woman from earlier looks between the both of us before coming to stand near me. "Hello there, my name is Natasha. I'm glad to see that you're finally awake. What's your name?" The red haired lady asks.

Clearing my throat lightly, I run my tongue across my dry lips to moisten them. "My name is Y/n..." I trail off, not knowing how to react to the situation I've been thrown in. 

"Well, Y/n, I'm sure you have many questions that need answering," She continues talking but my attention is momentarily drawn towards the doors closing behind the raven haired man. "Do you feel well enough to walk with me?" 

Nodding, I accept her outstretched hand as I balance myself on wobbly legs. Leading me out the doors, I'm met with wide, bright windows that overlook the city and before Natasha even tells me, I know where I am.

"Welcome to Stark Towers, Y/n."

****

"Captain, show Y/n to one of the spare bedrooms. She'll be joining us for a few days." Tony says, giving me a slight push towards the strong looking man. Smiling nervously, he gives Stark a stone-like nod before gesturing me to follow him down the hall.

Although Nat showed me around the tower a bit, I feel completely and utterly lost in such a huge building. To add on top of it, I keep catching myself searching around for a glimpse of the man in green.

"Who was that man in the infirmary with me?" I had asked Natasha, who insisted that I could call her Nat. A conflicted expression had crossed her face for a brief moment before she put on a natural smile.

"That was Loki. God of Mischief and adopted brother of Thor, God of Thunder. He's the one who found you and brought you here. Seems like you had gotten yourself into a compromising situation with one of the Chitauri warriors." She explained. 

Of course, my next question was about the attack on the city and who the Chitauri were. She explained that they are warriors from another planet and they're very dangerous due to their powerful technology. Even the memory of those dark, armored creatures sent a sick feeling through my veins. Thankfully, Nat said that the city is alright with very minimal casualties.

From there, she went to explain how and why they had come. Apparently, Loki had made an alliance with a powerful being from another planet named Thanos. However, he betrayed Thanos and joined in helping the Avengers in trying to take him down. Because of this, the Chitauri have been sent in waves to locate the hero's whereabouts and to rid of any that they could.

Upon hearing the explanation, I could tell, by the way she described the situation, that Loki wasn't a well liked member of their team. Oddly, this made me sad. I don't know if it's because I have a desire to defend the one who helped me in a dire situation or what, but I felt a protective emotion flow through me.

Regaining my grip on present events, I pick up pace to make up for how much I had fallen behind while thinking and follow Steve Rogers through the building. He makes friendly small talk and we laugh a bit, making me feel more comfortable.

When we reach the spare rooms, he points me to the ones that are available. "Loki claims that one, though. So, I wouldn't mess with it, if I were you." He tells me, the friendly tone still in his voice. Nodding, I thank him before browsing the rooms.

They're all very similar and I honestly don't care about where I stay, but after Steve leaves, I quickly decide to occupy the room that's around the corner to Loki's. To be honest, he's the only one here that I actually want to talk to, yet, I haven't caught even a glimpse of him since his departure earlier.

Roaming around the room I've chosen, I hesitantly scan through any details that catch my attention. I soon find myself in front of a full length mirror and when I see my appearance, I'm horrified. 

My hair is knotted and dried dirt is sprinkled all through the strands, my bicep has an off-white bandage wrapped tightly around it with a bit of blood peaking through, my hands are scabbed over with cuts and bruises can be found at different locations across my skin. My under eyes are dark with baggy circles and my lips are chapped. And I walked around Stark Towers, meeting members of the Avengers, looking like this...

Perfect. I already feel completely out of place, slightly uncomfortable and like the outcast, only to look like a crazed woman on top of all of that. What I really want to do is talk to Loki and have him explain, for me to understand, why I was brought here. Not that I'm ungrateful, I just don't know why this is all happening to someone like me.

On the other hand, my gut is telling me that I should clean myself up before wandering around the building again. Closing my eyes with a sigh, I turn on my heel and lead myself to the bathroom, grabbing a change of spare clothes on the way.

****

When all is said and done, I look over to the clock and see that it's late in the afternoon. Having woke up late has made my timing off by a long shot but I'm determined to figure out everything I can.

Walking out of the room and closing the door behind me, I make my way down the hall, passing Loki's door. Only, when I pass his door, a tremendous shiver rakes my body. God, why is it so cold in his room?! I can feel the freezing temperature through the thick, wooden doors and it makes my fingers hurt despite the barrier.

Before I can resume my trek down the hall, the god's door opens with cold air whooshing out into the hall, where I'm standing. Following, Loki steps out and his eyes narrow in confusion at the sight of me lingering at his entrance.

My mouth opens but no words come out, just awkward noises that make me cringe inwardly. Catching sight of my severe goosebumps, he quickly turns and closes the door to bring some of the heat back into the hall.

"What are you doing here, lady Y/n?" He asks, making me gulp. Yes, Loki, what am I doing here? Not being able to conjure any recognizable sounds to make words, I just shake my head very quickly. Ugh, I probably look like a freaking bobble-head.

I glance up at him, briefly, when I see a ghost of a smile grace his features. By the time my eyes try to find it again, it's disappeared without a trace. Huh, maybe I just mistook his expression. But in the back of my mind, I begin imagining how different expressions might look on his face.

He'd have a handsome smile, I think.

My thoughts are interrupted by his voice, speaking up again. "Are you heading to dinner, lady Y/n?" 

"Yes, I am...Well...Yes, I'm trying to. I just don't...I just don't know where I'm going." I stutter, making myself seem all the more daft. Closing my eyes, I mentally chastise myself for getting flustered so easily. I think it's just because of how unfamiliar I am with all of this. Nothing like this has ever occurred in my mundane life.

Nodding once, Loki looks straight down the hall. "I am heading that way, myself. I could take you there, if you wish." He's still not looking towards me when he finishes, so I quickly gather myself and manage to squeak out a 'yes please' before he gestures for me to follow him.

My hands rest in front of my abdomen and I fiddle with them, my fingers tracing over the scabbed scrapes that I'd received from the fall I took in the city with the Chitauri. My eyes continue to watch the floor in front of me, determined to not make more of a fool of myself.

"Are your hands hurting you, Ms. Y/n.?" I hear him ask. When I glance his way, I see him looking down at me. 

Realizing that I had still been messing with them, I drop my hands to my sides. "No, they're fine," I reassure him, smiling slightly, "and you don't have to call me by 'Ms.'"

His eyebrows set into a straight line and after we turn another corner, he looks back to me. "My apologies. I didn't think of you being wed." Realizing the confusion, I almost choke on my spit while trying to correct the situation.

"No, no. I'm not in a relationship and that's not what I meant. Sorry. I mean, you don't have to be so proper. You can just call me Y/n or whatever makes you comfortable." I explain, feeling my cheeks turning a pale shade of pink.

Loki scans my face, making my cheeks an even deeper color, I'm sure. "Right this way, Y/n." He says, extending a hand to show the door that will lead us through. Giving a genuine smile to him, he looks curiously at my gesture but I continue through without giving it much thought.

As soon as I walk into the dining room, I'm met with several of the avengers, only one of which I'm acquainted with. "Hey, Y/n, Loki." Steve says, greeting us. Raising my hand, I give an awkward wave back while walking closer.

The others introduce themselves as well; Clint, Wanda and Thor. During my many greetings, I look back to see that Loki keeps a good distance away from the group. By nature, that's what I want to do too but I know better than to shy away from the ones who are welcoming me. That's when it hits me.

Loki isn't being welcomed here.

My face is astrew with curiosity but I quickly recover to put forward a pleasant impression to my new acquaintances. "It's nice to meet all of you. I'm Y/n." I respond back. Light chatter starts but I excuse myself for some food and make my way over to Loki.

Shyly, I approach him. "Hey, uhm...I'm not sure, I don't know where-" I try to begin but he's quick to catch onto my request. Silently, I follow him and get my meal before we walk back to the group. Loki remains unreadable as he returns to his former position.

One thing I notice, almost instantly, is that Thor is the loudest among the ones I'm with. He talks in the same manner that Loki does but he's much more abrupt with how he carries himself, where as Loki seems very proper and almost elegant.

Thor beckons the God of Mischief to join us, which he hesitantly obliges to. Loki takes a seat by Thor, careful in where he places himself among the circle of people. Our eyes meet as he settles in and I try to reassure him with a smile before I return to my food.

We talk about many different things as I finish up my meal but when they approach the topic of the fight with Chitauri soldiers, I feel my stomach churn with a sick feeling. Excusing myself from the group, I put my tableware away before attempting to find my way back to my room.

Despite me trying to retrace my steps from before, when I was walking with Loki, I get totally, completely and undoubtedly lost. Even when I try to return to the dining room, I'm still so far from any semi-familiar surroundings. There's not even a way for me to contact anyone, seeing as I don't have a phone on me and even if I did, I don't have any numbers for the ones here.

Sighing, I walk until I stumble across a small library area with a plush couch and books aligned neatly upon bookshelves. The space is lit up by the dim light of the moon, paired with the city lights shining through the large, almost wall-like window.

Wandering to the couch, I scan the bookshelves before sitting down and peering out at the city below. An overwhelming exhaustion sweeps through me and I accept that I won't be finding my temporary room tonight. Readjusting my body, I lay down on the couch, curling my knees up so I can rest on my side.

Although I'm surrounded by unfamiliar things, I find myself feeling in complete peace in the quiet night and my eyes grow heavier with every passing second, my mind slowing it's thought process. Just as I close my eyes, I feel a weighed warmth surround me.

****

I'm awoken by my body being shaken to consciousness and the blinding light that the large window provides. When I finally focus on the person who's hands have disrupt my precious sleep, I'm surprisingly met with the God of Thunder.

Sitting up abruptly, I curl into myself and the action causes a blanket to fall from my body. But I didn't fall asleep with a blanket.... Taking a look at the cloth on the ground, I notice that it's the same shade of green that I've come to associate with -....Surely it's just a coincidence, right?

Bringing my attention back to the man in front of me, I offer a slight wave and awkwardly greet him. Again, I'm met with his loud chuckle as he crosses his arms, squinting his eyes at me in amusement. "What are you doing here, Y/n, sleeping on the furniture?" He asks and I can hear the humor that's hinted in his tone.

My eyes drift down at the couch and the green cover as I hug my knees into my chest. "I kind of got, well, I got lost last night on my way back to the room. Figured that it would be better to stay put than confuse myself further." My voice is shy and it expresses my embarrassment. 

"Yes, you're rather far from the sleeping quarters. Your decision was likely wise." After he finishes his sentence, I ask him how he came across me. "There was a note in the kitchen notifying us that you had gotten lost and where you may have taken a wrong turn."

Thor shrugs it off but I'm instantly confused on how someone had left a note behind. Clearing my throat, I stand up and fold the blanket up to carry back with me. "Thank you for coming after me, Thor. I appreciate it and I suppose I should further familiarize myself with the layout here."

"It's okay, my friend. You're sure to figure it out soon enough." He tells me, laughing in the process. "Are you hungry, Y/n?" At the mention of food, my stomach rumbles and I nod my head excitedly. We both laugh and he guides me back to the main hall.

Although the sun is bright, it's still rather early in the morning. "Where is everyone?" I ask, partly to myself and partly wanting an answer. 

"Everyone's out doing their own business. Steve is normally out running at this hour but others change depending on the day." I nod at him and continue to get myself some scrambled eggs. 

Heading back to the area in which we dined last night, I go to sit down when Loki enters the room. My eyes glance over at the blanket that's resting on the arm of the chair and I smile at him. "Good morning, Loki." I greet.

Sadly, I'm not met with the same pleasantries. Without looking at me, he halts his step for a moment before continuing forward, not uttering a single word. My smile tilts downward and I can feel the frown matching my disappointment.

Thor must notice the change in the atmosphere after Loki left. "Don't pay him too much attention, Y/n. Loki is a very private and....malignant individual. " He explains, giving me a tight lipped smile.

Despite Thor's attempt to put my emotions at ease, I can't help but feel a little pang of hurt. Why should I feel hurt? Loki owes nothing to me and I owe nothing, alike. Even if he were friendly with me, it wouldn't matter because all of this is temporary. None of it will last, that's for sure.

Shaking off the odd emotions, I feed the beast that is growling in my abdomen. Thor joins me for breakfast and we make light chatter about how I'm feeling, how he came to be on 'midgard' and what we're likely to be doing today.

By the time we finish eating, we're cracking jokes and laughing. Thor has a strange sense of humor but I adapt fairly easily. Steve comes into the room shortly after and it turns out that he was, indeed, having a morning run. The two men begin conversing so I pardon myself and assure Thor that I won't get lost again.

Leaving them, I decide that I should explore so I can figure out how this place is set up. After I do that, then I'll go attempt to find Loki and figure out what the plans are for me returning to my life. Maybe I'll attempt to find him, maybe. If he continues to be a snot, then I'll just get Nat's permission to leave and that'll be that.

I let my feet carry me where they may and I begin roaming the halls at a leisure pace. Crossing back and forth through the building, I study the turns and pathways that I take. The emerald blanket that I had awoken to is still draped over my forearm and my fingers fondle the soft fabric as I explore.

The lack of people in this building kind of throws me off but I guess it makes sense. The Avengers are probably quite busy with all the things that happen without the public knowledge. Their work is important and I'm grateful that they are willing to take on such tasks.

Somehow, my feet have seemed to lead me back to the library area that I spent the night in. Now that it's lit up by the morning, I can examine everything clearly. The shelves are filled with an array of books with many different subjects. Mostly non-fiction but there are a few fiction novels thrown in there. 

My fingertips dance and trace over the spines as I read all the titles with my lip between my teeth, much too immersed in what I'm doing. Because of this, I jump when I hear a familiar voice speak behind me.

"Enjoying yourself, Y/n?" Loki asks, watching me as I turn around with a startled expression. Not to my surprise, his face is in it's same expressionless set and I match it, showing my distaste of his unpleasant act of sneaking up on me.

"I was..." I spit, irritation presented boldly to the god of getting-on-my-nerves. The corner of his mouth twitches up into a smirk and I feel myself wanting to walk away from him. "Why am I here, Loki?" 

"Because you walked here. I assumed you'd be capable of figuring that out on your own." He says, matter-of-fact-like. 

Groaning to myself, I clarify my statement even though I know he's purposely poking at me for his own enjoyment. "Why did you bring me to Stark Towers, you rubbish excuse of a god?!" My voice comes out as a growl but I don't care. He hasn't spared my feeling in his actions.

Loki's smirk falls back into a straight line and he slowly paces over by the couch. "Because you were hurt and I felt the responsibility to not leave you on the broken pavement, you ungrateful mortal." He sneers.

The little satisfaction I felt at dissipating his smirk is short lived since his insult fills me with a burning anger. "I'm not ungrateful, I just don't appreciate being kept in the dark like a bloody prisoner!" 

"You are the farthest thing from a prisoner, but we can arrange that if you wish!!" We both have our fists clenched and I can see the tick in his jaw become more prominent.

"Then tell me why the hell I'm here! You could have taken me to a public hospital instead of bringing me to freaking Stark Towers with the Avengers!!!" Stomping over to him, I impatiently wait for him to answer me. "Well? Are you deaf, my lord?"

An emotion I don't recognize comes across his face but just as before, it's gone before I can decipher it. Scoffing, he turns his back on me before distancing himself. When he returns his gaze to mine, his face is back in it's resting, emotionless look.

"The Chitauri are still out there, searching. I thought you'd prefer to be away from their search and stay here. If you wish to leave, do so. Just don't expect me to be there to aide you once more." He says and the fact that he says it so calmly makes my temper blow. Picking up a book from the table, I chuck it right at his chest.

I'm confused and pissed when it falls straight through him with a golden flicker.

"You seriously couldn't even make the effort to come find me yourself?! You little-" I start as I charge towards his hologram but he disappears before I can even yell at him any further. A part of me wonders whether I should stay but I can't seem to find a reason why. But I'll be darned if he gets the satisfaction of feeling victorious in our argument.

Screw it!! I don't care what that pompous, puke colored jerk thinks! Somehow, it's suddenly very easy for me to find my way through the building and to the lobby of the place. Just as I'm rounding the corner, I realize that I'm still clutching the blanket. His Blanket.

Raising my arms high above my head, I pitch it down onto the ground before continuing my stomp to the exit. That's when I stop in my tracks as I hear my name being called. Not turning around, I wait to see if the voice will come any closer.

Feeling a warm hand on my shoulder, the individual comes to stand in front of me and he leans down to become eye level with me. "Where are you going, my friend?" Thor asks, curiosity evident. 

I shake my head before answering. "Home. I'm leaving, Thor." Attempting to move past him, he keeps his hand on my shoulder and despite the gentle grasp he has, it's almost impossible to move from where I'm standing.

"Why are you leaving?" 

Huffing, I throw my hands up exasperatedly. "Because I should never have been brought here in the first place! I still don't know why I was brought here and I'm not going to just sit around when I'm perfectly capable of continuing my life."

Removing his hand, the God of Thunder stands up tall but continues to look at me. And for some reason, I feel the need to stay and hear what he has to say. "I'm sorry you feel so strongly, Y/n. As to why you're here, I do not know for myself. You are more than capable of returning to your life but I feel that you may want to stay around a bit longer."

"And what for? Why would I linger here when there's no point....?" My anger is gone and now replaced with a sort of sadness that I can't explain.

Thor gives a soft sigh before looking back to me. "Well, you're my friend! I'd hate to see you leave in this condition. Plus, I'm sure there's more of an explanation as to why you're here. Stay and I vow to you that we'll figure everything out."

His face is softened into a smile and I find myself mimicking the expression. Nodding, his hand gives my shoulder a pat before we silently return to where we came from. On the way back, I kneel and pick up the cover to bring with me. For some peculiar reason, I can't bring myself to abandon it.

****

For the rest of the day, I stuck by Thor. He even took me out of Stark Towers and we wandered around the city. It felt good to be out and in familiar surroundings, I'm so thankful for Thor right now. Unlike his brother, he's super friendly and we quickly become friends.

Returning to the base, we joke around as we make our way up the stairs. In an instant, Thor picks me up and slings me over his shoulder as he hurries up the steps. I laugh, thrashing in his grip. "Stop your squirming, Y/n! You were moving much too slow." He calls to me, grinning widely.

The blonde has quickly adapted to a brother-like nature and it makes our friendship a lot easier when we view each other in such a way. Even when we reach the floor, he refuses to release me and continues to carry me around - greeting anyone we pass like this is a normal thing.

"Are you seriously ignoring how crazy this looks?" I ask, smiling awkwardly as we pass Wanda, who is giving me a confused smile. "I'm barely known around here and you are suddenly carrying me around like nothing's out of character."

Exhaling out of his nose, he heads to the living room and I realize that I'm finally starting to understand this layout. "You're underestimating the odd things that happen to us around here." Just as we reach the living room, Thor stops abruptly and continues to hold me.

"Thor? Uh, what happened? Thor, buddy?" I ask when he remains quiet. Finally, he slides me off his back and as soon as my feet meet the ground, my knees give out. 

This is what happens when you let the God of Thunder carry you around until your feet are fast asleep. Catching myself on the ledge of the couch, I stand up and turn to see what Thor is looking at. Oh god....quite literally.

Loki is positioned in a chair beside the window with his feet dangling over the arm. "Having fun, are we, brother?" His voice doesn't hold any emotion and I look back at Thor to see him looking very uncomfortable.

After a moment of silence, I decide that I'll answer instead. "Yes, we are. Thor and I went to hang out in the city. It was a lot of fun, actually." I say this and turn to smile at Thor, which he returns. Loki, on the other hand, doesn't look so pleased. 

"I'm glad to hear it." With that, the pale god leaves. Maybe it's just me being my usual over-thinking self but I start to wonder about why Thor would look uncomfortable in front of Loki when they were on good terms not too long ago. As soon as we're alone again, I feel the tension, that once filled the room, dissipate and the friendly banter is back to normal. Loki doesn't care about my whereabouts, so I won't care about his.

Or at least I will attempt not to.

Time passes and I am introduced to another member of the Avengers. Bucky is nice and he's Steve's best friend, which makes for good conversation starters. As I notice myself get more comfortable around these people, I scold myself for my actions.

No one lasts. This is temporary, no need to get attached. It may sound like rubbish but it's true. I don't belong with them, this isn't where I'm supposed to be. Every single person here will be chucked out of my life by the time I return home. They were never meant to be in my life.

Something I've mastered over time is the art of distance. To be friendly and polite while not getting too close. Getting close just results in getting hurt. If I get attached, a part of me will always be with that person or those people. It never works out.

After dinner, the group breaks off to their night and I say my goodbyes before heading towards my room. My mind is running a hundred miles per hour and I feel a little empty at the thought of returning to the normality of everyday life. 

I try to push out the sour feeling, I try very much, and I finally get it down to a bearable murmur of a thought. Passing Loki's door, and shivering at the cold, I walk into my room. It's dark once I've closed the door and I walk over to the lamp beside the entrance, turning it on as soon as I reach it.

The room lights up but when I turn back to my bed, I'm met with the man I've been dreading to see. "Hello, Y/n."

Part Two Here

Masterlist Here

A/N: Yes!! Marvel has been added to my masterlist and I plan on adding more fandoms as we continue on this journey together. Make sure to follow me for updates since I don’t have a set schedule anymore! I’ve missed you guys and I hope you enjoy this series, I’ve had so much fun writing it!! - Ellie-Mae