#my Thursday evening distraction became a thing !!

[juliavaccina-art]

Photo booth !!

[stevenbasic]

Growing into the Job, Post 411: Double Trouble, p1

Fred sat at the bar nursing his third - no, wait, fourth? - beer. It had been a long day, and he knew sooner or later this little respite would have to come to an end. Eventually he would have to go home on this Thursday night and face the music. Things had been bad for him lately. He couldn’t seem to do anything right anymore. His new boss at the company had just demoted him and put him back to part time. That meant no more salary and no more benefits. When he complained, earlier today, after having finally summoned the courage to step into her office? She fired him.

What was he going to tell Alicia?

He took another swig of beer and glanced around the nearly empty bar. A few regulars were still around standing by the pool table for their weekly game, but otherwise the place looked deserted.

Man, this bar used to be packed, every night. He would come here with his buddies all the time to sit and watch a game, shoot darts or just shoot the shit and have a good time. What happened? Less than a year ago some new  megacorp had  come in and bought up almost the whole city block. This place was one of the few remaining holdouts, which honestly meant trouble for their business. These days they could barely even pull in the drunkards off the street, let alone anyone with actual money.

Not that I’m doing much better than them, now, he privately scoffed, spending what little money he had left on drinks just so he could avoid going home to her.

Alicia had been particularly hard on him lately and it was really starting to gnaw at him. She seemed to be enjoying pushing all her recent successes in his face, and she loved to point out all his failures - comparing what was going on in his life to what she was doing with hers. It was like a game to her, showing him how her recent successes pulled him more and more into her ever-growing shadow. At first he was happy for her wins at work, he really was. For one thing, she owned her own business now. She was a personal trainer that spent time at Big Body Fitness and a couple other women’s gyms downtown. She was pulling in a huge amount of clients, had just hired four other trainers to help with the workload, and had plans to make her business massive. And, honestly, she was starting to get pretty massive herself. She - like so many women these days - had wanted to bulk up; Alicia had started doing that in spades. Lots of food, lots of training, lots of weight. And the bigger she got, the more successful her business became, the more she seemed to like making him feel small. And, if he was honest with himself, he did feel small. Small, weak and pathetic, but he refused to let it show, he refused to give up like that.

They’d had a massive argument last night. Alicia had said she was sick of his ‘games’, his avoiding the truth. She wanted him to admit it to her, to everyone, that he just wasn’t enough anymore. That really pissed him off. Well fuck her right? I’ll show her! he thought, taking another gulp of beer, I’ll show her by…by…

By getting fired from my fucking job. Dammit…

Fred slouched down and laid his head on the bar. He felt pathetic. She had completely ignored him at breakfast. Nothing he ever did seemed good enough for her and it was starting to get him down.

<ring-a-ling!>

The little bell at the bar's front door had tinkled, signaling a new entry.

“Whoah, this place is like a dump?”

“I know right?”

Fred lifted his gaze, turned a bit in his seat to see who it was...

Two tall, young, dark-haired beauties had just walked in. One of them was on the phone with someone. Their entry was loud, their voices ringing over the bar’s typical, wan hush, but Fred was too distracted by their looks and a bit far away to really hear what they were saying. Both girls were wearing low cut scoop neck sweaters, each showing healthy amounts of boob flesh, along with short skirts and knee high boots. Their outfits left little to the imagination; these two were built. Plus, they looked similar to one another, like they could be sisters…or maybe even twins? From his perch at the bar Fred swallowed hard, unable to avert his gaze when suddenly one of the girls looked up directly at him.

“Yeah…is that the guy? The dork at the bar?” said the one girl, into her phone.

The one not on a call took a picture of him.

“Alright…you know you like so totally owe us right?” said the phone girl.

“Yeah we need to get in shape like, yesterday?” the other said.

“We do this for you and…? Good. We’ll bring him back when we’re done with him?” The one on the phone hung up and focused on Fred.  He was, in his four-beer stupor, blankly staring back at them. “Okay, Bee, you ready to show him a good time?”

“Yeah like that guy in the club last week? Do you think he remembers his name yet?”

“I don't know Bee, but do you think he remembers us?”

“Not if we did our job right?”

“Haha right?? Ready to do it again?”

“Blehh..I mean I guess?” replied the other, “Why couldn’t it be him instead? I want to try it on, like, him?”

“We can pretend?”

The two had just gotten off work. He hadn’t been in today and they hadn’t liked that.

“Yeah I guess? But I guess I am kinda excited to do it again, even on this guy, aren’t you?”

“See what we can really do? Yeah I guess?”

Fred had finally got a hold of himself, blushing as he turned back in his seat to look away. He tried his best to play it cool, but he couldn’t help but sneak another glance over his shoulder to look at them. Jesus those tits I-

They’d both fixed him with a piercing gaze, which spooked him and caused him to immediately turn back to his beer. His face flushed. He took another drink, tried to settle himself but he could feel their eyes burning into his back. He glanced over his shoulder again and they each curled a long manicured finger in his direction beckoning him over.

What the fuck?

He couldn’t believe it. At first he turned this way and that, looking around foolishly and figuring that they were perhaps indicating someone else, someone in this otherwise empty bar. But, no. They were, in fact, looking at him, and he felt his face redden even further. They both frowned with identical expressions and repeated the gesture, calling him over to them with curled fingers. It didn’t really feel like a request.

Grabbing his bottle, he rapidly downed the last dregs of beer for a final bit of liquid courage before getting, shakily, to his feet. He could feel their eyes on him, and he became suddenly aware of how quickly his heart was beating.

This is like a dream! He couldn’t help but marvel, Two beautiful girls - twins even?- and they want to talk to me. Maybe it’s a good thing I got fired after all, found myself here on a Thursday night haha…

Before he knew what he was doing, Fred found his legs carrying him across the bar and towards the two buxom strangers. He realized he was shaking like a nervous schoolboy.

“Hello sweetie,” one of them said, boldly reaching out to cup his chin in her hand, “aren’t you just..?”

“…the cutest little guy?” finished the other.

“I’m Brittni,” spoke the first, “and this is Bobbi. What’s your name?”

“I’m .. I’m Fred,” he answered, trying his best not to glance down at the two sets of huge, firm breasts that seemed to be put on prominent display for him.

“Hiiiiii Fred ♡♡” they both sang out in perfect unison.

“H-h-hi,” he stammered.

“Why don’t you join us Fred?” began Brittni, “Aren’t you-”

“Lonely?” finished Bobbi, both of their faces pouting in mock sadness.

“Yeah c’mon, we’re, like, the prettiest girls here, right?”

“We’re, like, the only girls here?”

The two of them giggled.

Fred was a deer caught in the headlights as they led him by the chin over to a booth. Bobbi sat first, scooching all the way down along the seat and making sure there was room for both him and her friend on her right. She patted the seat as Brittni guided him down to sit, finally letting go of his chin and scooching him in too. She gave him a dimpled, heartwarming smile.

God she’s stunning, he thought, They both are.

Brittni then sat down on the same bench and he immediately found himself sandwiched, his hips between two thick pairs of thighs pressing up against him. Wow these girls are built, he thought, feeling the casual strength in their legs as they rubbed and squeezed up against him from both sides. He could already feel their warmth through his jeans. Their strong perfume filled his senses, making him feel heady, almost overwhelming him.

“There isn’t that better?” asked Brittni, smiling brightly at him on his right.

“Y-yes but-“

“But what?” Bobbi cut in from his left, “Wouldn’t you like to get to know each other?”

“Wh-what .. what do you want to know?” asked Fred, his speech patterns falling into their rhythm - they asked a lot of questions - as he turned to one girl and then the other..

“Well, for starters-” began Brittni.

“What’s a cute little guy like you doing out all alone on a Thursday night ?” finished Brittni, as they both twirled locks of  hair between long, slim fingers.

Fred looked down at the table. ‘Little guy’? He wasn’t that short, just shorter than them. They must be each - what?   - five-nine? Five-ten? So, like, an inch or two? Taller by quite a bit more, certainly, in their heels, and sitting higher than him here in the booth. So, yeah, okay, he felt smaller than them. Little.

He was unsure of what to say, how to answer. Why am I here? He’d never been good at lying and something about these girls, their confidence and stunning good looks, their physical presence, made him want to be truthful.

“I .. I had an argument ..” he began, eyes still cast downwards, “a big one .. with my girlfriend.”

“Awww you poor thing,” Brittni immediately cooed, “Girls can be so demanding nowadays can’t they?” As she’d spoke, she pushed her breasts into his right side and leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder.

“Yes they can, can’t they? Those nasty big, mean girls?” Bobbi continued, mirroring her friend’s movements on his left. They both now had their heads on his slumped shoulders, both with a knowing smile across their lips.

Fred found himself nodding in solemn agreement. Something about being around these girls just made him so passive…so comfortable. He continued. “Nothing I do lately seems to be good enough for her. She blows up at the slightest thing. I don’t know what to do, I feel like I’m walking on eggshells all the time.”

“Awwwww…” they both cooed.

Bobbi ran her fingernail lightly up his arm, causing him to shiver. “Are you a good listener, Fred?” she asked.

“You seem like a good listener?” Brittni added.

“I…I think so?” he replied, suddenly doubting himself. Was he really listening, when Alicia and he talked? Or was he just being stubborn like Alicia always said? Was he what girls wanted these days, or was he really behind the times? Maybe he was a loser.

“Because don’t girls really want a boy who listens to them?” Brittni said.

“Yeah I think they do, Bee?” Bobbi replied, both she and her friend’s attention laser focused on the smaller man between them, “Can you be that boy, Fred?”

Being called a ‘boy’? That made him shiver, the girls noticed. Okay this was getting fun, they both thought in unison. They felt a little tingle, almost electric, between them.

“Can you be the good, attentive boy who really listens to what a girl is saying?” said the girl on his right. Brittni, correct? “Because…when you think about it, Freddie-”

“-don’t girls know best?” the other one finished, “...Freddie?”

“I … I … guess so? I don’t know?” he said, questioning in this moment, if it was Alicia that was really the problem. Maybe it was him? He was having trouble thinking straight, probably from all the beer, but it kinda made sense? After all he was the one who was having all the problems - job, money, everything - and Alicia…she just seemed to have everything figured out. He should really be appreciative of these girls. Despite their obvious youth they really seemed remarkably perceptive.

“So - are you two…sisters?” he asked.

“Um, kinda?” said the one on his right

“No not really?” followed the one on his left.

“Yes for sure…sorta?”

Uh, okay. “Do you…have boyfriends?” he asked, which he saw made them pause.

They both blinked.

Visions of Dr J.

YES.

YES.

“No not really?” they both said, at the same time.

“But we wish we did, right Bee?” said Bobbi.

“Absolutely?” answered Britt.

“And Freddie’s cute, right?” one girl asked the other.

“Oh for sure, huh?” came the answer.

“If you were our boyfriend, we’d have to keep you on a pretty tight leash, wouldn’t we?” Bobbi said, her minty fresh breath washing over him.

“Omigod Bobbi?!” Brittni giggled, but then leaned in closer with her own waft of breath, “A leash haha?? But yeah who knows when another girl might try to snatch you away?”

Fred felt the two pairs of firm heavy breasts suddenly weighing him down, from either side. They were trapping him, pinning his arms to his sides as their strong perfume came flooding into his nostrils.

“Does your girlfriend keep you on a leash, hm Freddie?” asked one, causing the other to giggle.

“Ahh!…What?” he blurted. What did she just ask?

Now they both giggled.

This was getting heavy, quick, and he knew it was not a conversation he should be in, if he was going to stay true to Alicia…but he found himself answering them.  “She…she does like to know what I’m doing…” he stammered, feeling their breasts squashing against him. “And..so...what should I do???” Fred asked in a sudden panic, genuinely seeking answers. “Alicia will be so mad if she finds out I’m at a bar…about my job…I’ve had a few drinks too,” he said ashamedly, looking to the girls for guidance. I hope they tell me I shouldn’t worry…

The girls giggled again, squashed into him tighter.

“How about…?” Brittni began.

“You come home with us?” Bobbi finished, linking her right arm through his left one as Brittni did the same on his other side.

“We can let you relax?” Brittni offered, “At our place?”

“Yeah aren’t things always better when you sleep with them?”  Bobbi asked.

"Oh, Bobbi,” Brittini corrected, “don’t you mean sleep ‘on’ them?”

“If that’s how he likes it, yeah?”

Both girls giggled.

“What ? No…no I couldn’t .. she would know .. she always knows,” he whined. Suddenly, he was struck with the reality of this situation; it had just gone past any innocent flirting. Fueled by his drive to stay true to the woman he loved, he had a sudden burst of willpower. “I’ve…I’ve got to go”, he said, trying to stand up but the girls - with a giggle -  held him down and pressed into him more firmly, easily keeping him in place. His slight frame remained wedged snugly between their thick thighs and heavy breasts.

“Where are you trying to go?”

“Yeah shhh, Freddie, shhh…try to breathe?”

After a pathetic whine and another brief and equally futile struggle, Fred seemed to settle down. He wasn’t going anywhere unless they let him, and he did calm down as he accepted that, and the more he took nice deep breaths. The girls’ perfume, now stronger and sweeter than before, had filled the space of their booth and fully seeped into him. It began to make him feel more drunk than the beers he’d had.

Fred’s skull lolled until he found himself staring at the ceiling, his mouth agape as Brittni and Bobbi casually continued to chat among themselves. They, found, though, as they sat there with this guy between them, that their connection grew stronger and stronger by the moment, that they needed fewer and fewer words to say what they meant. Getting him excited, turning him on together, was giving them a collective focus, syncing them up, increasing their abilities. It made them both giggle, and it became a little bit of a game, as they began to push the boundaries of what they could do.

Cool, huh?

Very cool.

They continued on as if he wasn’t there, wedged tightly between their firm, strong bodies. They ordered drinks, finished them at a leisurely pace as they talked over Fred’s head. Finally, though, they were-

“Ready?” Brittni asked.

“Ready,” replied Bobbi. They both stood, arms again linked with the smaller man, pushing their seat bench backwards and lifting him effortlessly out of his seat and up, up, up into the air. With them in their high heeled boots, Fred’s feet dangled a good half-foot off the ground.

“Let’s go then?” Brittni said, as they walked arm-in-arm out of the bar with Fred held securely suspended between them.

“Where .. w-where are you taking me?” Fred asked woozily. He hadn’t had that much to drink tonight, had he?

“Back to our place?”

“Didn’t we tell you? You're ours for tonight?”

“Or for however long it takes you to sleep off all those silly little thoughts in your head?”

“Or..?”

“Or maybe we’ll have to keep you?”

==========================================

big thanks to Frag592 for this one, and allowing RiF and myself our heavy-handed edits. Part 2 still in the works, coming soon.

[minkkumaz]

WHAT'S THE ANSWER FOR ME + YOU?

although woonhak was deemed the golden boy of your school, he lacked in academics. when he goes to the pretty girl (whom also has a tad bit of a crush on him) in the library for math help, how'd he know you'd be this cute?

PAIRING kim woonhak x fem!reader WC 1.1k TAGS adults dni. so much fluff it hurts. mutual pining. OMI NOTE my sweet boy omg i love writing for him. tbh i wrote this as a distraction for the other woonhak fic i started oops. not proofread sorry for mistakes hehe

november was cloudy, as if the sun was too shy to peek over the soft blankets that covered the sky. despite the dreariness, his spirit was always there. kim woonhak was the golden boy of your academy. the school’s star athlete, good at winning over hearts and games.

though he had far from perfect grades, he was good at getting away with an f every now and then. however this wasn’t the most ideal.

sometimes you sat inside of the library, taking in the smell of new books. you had no practical reason to be there, but the quiet environment was good enough for you. you weren’t used to the popularity scene like he was. and though everything in your heart was telling you to talk to him, you just couldn’t.

that specific day, you settled on the floor with your back against the hard books. notebooks, pencils, and a laptop was sprawled out everywhere, but not so much that people couldn’t walk past you. you had an immense headache from cramming in an assignment last minute. because of this, you hardly noticed the body that was towering over you, until he spoke.

“hey! your name is y/n, right?” his voice was alluring like honey dripping down your throat, and a striped cardigan draped over his messily buttoned shirt and slightly loose tie. 

but in that moment you froze. admiring him for so long wasn’t considered as practice for actually talking to him.

“hi, yes! um, am i in your way?” you hurry to scoot away but he hesitantly places a hand on your shoulder to stop you.

“no not at all!” he tells you anxiously. in his mind he was thinking you were much prettier in person.

“then what’s up?” you felt small in comparison to his large figure. 

“the counselor sent me over to you actually! she said i’d find you here.” he explained, “i need someone to tutor me.”

“you need a tutor?” you questioned with a confused expression on your face.

“yeah.. they’re going to pull me out of basketball if i don’t get my math grade up. and a little birdie told me you were one of the best.” he grinned at you happily and held his hand out for you to get up.

“oh! well i think i have some time right now. i just finished my assignment so you’re in luck.” you quickly grab your things and shove them into your bag before taking his hand.

the touch of his hand on yours made the both of you blush, swiftly pulling away after you were on your feet. you followed behind him to one of the nearest tables, setting your things down beside you before taking a seat.

“so ahm, what specifically were you needing help with?” you ask, pulling out your math notebook and flipping through the chapters.

“literally everything! like how do you even add exponents with different bases?” he whined next to you, letting his head fall onto the desk. 

“no i totally get how that can be tricky!” you laugh, “here i’ll write down an example.”

conversation throughout the rest of the study session flowed smoothly. despite it being your first proper interaction, he knew how to make you smile. 

a stupid joke here and then, sometimes a wink, or his hand grazing slightly against yours. what were you even saying?

meeting up became more frequent between the two of you. it came to the point where you met every tuesday and thursday for the remainder of the month. he wasn’t difficult to teach, but there were time’s he’d zone out in the middle of your mini lesson.

you wondered what went on in his mind, but every part of you wanted to hope you were the one he thought about.

“woon! are you even listening to me?” you frown, snapping your fingers infront of the boy.

“yes yes, i’m sorry i’m just a little sidetracked today.” he sighs, scribbling nothings onto his paper.

“we have our math exam next week and you’ve been doing so much better than when we met for the first time. you can’t be lacking on me now!” you pout at him. it was maybe your eighth time studying in the library together.

“you’re just so pretty, it’s distracting.” he says quietly, not exactly loud enough for you to hear.

“what?” you tilt your head a little.

“nothing! it’s nothing i promise.” he leans his head back, groaning, “there’s just this problem i’m really having trouble figuring out.” “what kind of problem, i’m sure we can find a solution to it.” your interest was piqued. why would he get so worked up over a math problem?

“i don’t think i’m ready to ask you yet, i want to try to figure it out on my own first.” he sighs into his hands, barely getting a glimpse of you through the cracks of his fingers.

“you want to figure it out on your own? when’d you get so independent without me?” you fake a sad expression.

“okay okay, i’ll write it down for you then. but close your eyes!” he gives in, ripping off a sticky note from the pad you took out earlier.

covering your eyes, your other senses seem to heighten. you can hear the rough writing of his pencil against the note he stole from your pile of supplies. he hesitates in between what you can only assume are numbers, before you feel him press the paper against your forehead.

“open your eyes now.” 

your vision is covered slightly from the note, so you can hardly see him fidgeting with his hands. when you peel it off to read, you’re met with a very mysterious question.

‘what’s the answer for me + you?’

“huh? what does this mean woonhak..?” you squint, re - reading the same words over and over again.

“um..” he laughs nervously, “i just don’t want us to be just friends yknow? i really really like you.”

“woon i–”

“i don’t know i just think i’d be a little heartbroken if i had to see you smile so prettily everyday and not be able to call you my.. girlfriend.” he rambled, “but you don’t have to say anything yet! don’t even worry or anything i know this is kinda sudden and we’ve only been hanging out for so long but–”

you interrupt him with a gentle kiss against his lips. he smiles against yours, placing his hands perfectly against your flush cheeks to pull you closer.

“i really like you too, woonhak.” you let your head fall heavy into his hands after finally pulling away, staring at him blissfully.

“i guess i have my answer then, right?”

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[lewkwoodnco]

Hi I want to request Anthony Lockwood×fem!reader with the song False God, I want it to be best friends to lovers, with the miscommunication trope. Like they were best friends and started falling for each other, and try to hide their feelings. Then then after a case they got into an argument, about Lockwood throwing himself in danger again and he kisses her, but she just gets even more confused and mad, she thinks that he only did it because he wanted to distract her from what happened, so she gets even angrier. The argument gets even more heated and they start even yelling at each other, then they stop talking to each other for days, and the reader just has enough and leaves and Anthony is heartbroken, and tries to find a way to get her back. The ending is happy. He gets her back, and they confess to each other.

I'm sorry this is very confusing. You can obviously add more things, so there is the miscommunication trope, and also, so the plot suits the song more. Thank you, you're amazing, I absolutely loved the I can see you fic, and it was everything I hoped for when I requested it.

False God - Lockwood x Reader

A/N: No worries, its not confusing at all! I'm really glad you liked the i can see you fic cuz its one of my favs too!! hope you like this one toooo :) 4k!

She groaned, shifting in her window seat, forehead fused against the window pane. It was too bright to be looking straight ahead at the glowing skyline, so she was staring down at the pavement baking in the sweltering heat. Summer was in full force, and today it took form by enveloping 35 Portland Row and every building in a five-mile radius with its heat. It was too hot to think straight, too hot to do anything but brood and stew in resentment. Even as she unseeingly looked out at the shimmering roads, all she felt was the same agony growing inside of her being reflected back into her eyes. Loving Lockwood truly was a special kind of hell.

It had been a funny sort of week. On Monday, Lockwood had used a napkin to wipe some sugar off her nose after she had bitten into one of Arif's doughnuts, and he looked just as confused as her when he realised what he was doing. On Wednesday's job, she tripped on a loose floorboard so badly that her knees buckled under her, leading to some very ungraceful stumbling in Lockwood's arms, and when she was finally able to find her feet she brushed past him, face beet red, mumbling an apology.

On Thursday, Lockwood was bandaging up a scrape on her wrist, and she had been so transfixed by his swift, confident movements that she hadn't even realised he was done until he snapped the first aid box close. Later that night, while they were scouting out a new location, his fingers drifted on the edge of her bandage occasionally, as if checking to see if it was alright. Part of her love-addled brain couldn't help but hope that he was checking if she was alright. He apologised profusely each time, stepping back in an attempt to at force at least some physical distance between them. She nodded absent-mindedly, trying to soothe the somersaults her stomach made when she felt his rapier-calloused fingers graze her palm.

So when they were dividing themselves up for Friday's case, a part of her knew it wasn't smart to team up with someone in front of whom she became a stuttering, vacant fool. It wasn't that she daydreamed about him or felt butterflies in her stomach, but there was something about him that short-circuited her systems when he got too close. But now, Lockwood looked so cool, so nonchalant. She couldn't avoid him forever. She had to work through whatever this was, and spending time with him was how she was going to do it.

"Yeah, sure, those teams sound great. Lockwood and I together works." But even as she raised her mug to take a sip, she briefly met Lockwood's gaze, and the look in his eyes triggered this sudden vision of the entire mission going up in flames. Her eyes darted away, and when she looked back, he was looking at something on the thinking cloth interestedly. She struggled to take a sip of her tea with the lump in her throat. Must have been a trick of the light. Not that it helped her get it out of her head.

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

Lucy and George were starting on the first two floors, so Lockwood and her took the elevator up to the third floor. Two floors away, they could no longer hear George and Lucy's footsteps or voices, as if they were in an entirely different building. They split up, and she was relieved for the distance between them, the chance to finally think straight for a while.

However, they weren't having much luck. She ran her fingers over the walls for what felt like the hundredth time, frowning and straining her ears. Every time she felt like she had just gotten the right focus, Lockwood would shift somewhere behind her and break her concentration.

"Quit it."

"What?"

"The shifting. I can't hear."

"What shifting?"

She pulled her ear from the wall to look at Lockwood and immediately felt her spirits dry up. Lockwood was looking at her questioningly, not far from the position she had left him in, and right behind him was a Spectre a split second away from lunging at Lockwood.

It all happened so fast; even now she wasn't quite sure how she had managed to recover her wits so quickly. She barrelled towards the ghost, fingers closing over Lockwood's bicep as she closed her eyes and thrust her rapier in front of her, hoping her blade met the visitor before she did. There was a hissing sound, and then silence. She opened her eyes to see the Spectre gone, and Lockwood looking as pale and shaken as she felt. His lips quivered, forming amorphous words, and she feared she might break down if she looked at him being vulnerable for too long.

She turned detachedly, sheathing her rapier, considering the objects around them until she found one with overwhelming psychic charge. She pulled out her iron net and draped it over the source, and the temperature went up considerably. By then, Lockwood look mostly alright, if a little nervous.

They returned to the elevator, and as the doors shuddered to a close he tilted his head towards her, coughing awkwardly, though his eyes were still fixed to the floor. "You didn't need to...foolish t-to, what you did there...erm-"

"Lockwood, shut up. I'd die for you." She hadn't meant to sound so aggressive, but it made her heart stumble erratically when she saw him sprawled on the floor, moments away from certain death. It made her want to strangle him for being so stupid, then fling her arms around him and hold him close. For so much of her life she had felt like an island, alone and desolate, and she had so little, but Lockwood would forever be something for her to keep, even if it was only all in her head.

She looked up, startled by the dark look in his eyes, rushing to get the words out, but it was a bit too late. "And Lucy. And George." Even she could hear how flimsy that sounded, echoing in the starkly lit rattling elevator. Yes, she would lay her life on the ground for them, but with Lockwood, it was just...different. Anything to do with Lockwood just had to be complicated.

"I know. But still. Thank you."

She gasped, scrambling to her feet, hand clutching the sleeve of his coat before her brain caught up to what she was doing. It was almost comical, the way she had to blink at her hand and Lockwood's face before realising what she had done. She dropped her hand immediately, straightening, but Lockwood's expression didn't change. It was a weird mix of curiosity, contemplation and what looked to be worry. So it hadn't been a trick of the light.

She inhaled, raising her chin to meet his gaze. His eyebrows raised imperceptibly and she felt the air around them shift. She blinked hesitantly, much less confident than she was a few moments ago.

They silently boarded the elevator again, which was miraculously still working, and an uneasy feeling starting to grow in the pit of her stomach. For once, neither of them had made any effort to sweep the electricity between them under the rug, so now it hung in the open, the elephant in the room. It was pure insanity - no, idiocy, to acknowledge the charged air between them. She didn't know about Lockwood, but she was having a hard enough time dealing with the urges that compelled her to run to his side at the first sign of danger.

This was new territory, and these uncharted waters frightened her so. As soon as her attention drifted elsewhere and this tension between them took a backseat, she would look into Lockwood's eyes or feel him brush against her, and she would be certain that it was only a matter of time before she was pulled under. It made her head spin, and yet, she craved it.

Her hand trembled as she pushed her hair back from her eyes, and Lockwood reached out and interlocked her fingers with his own, still staring straight ahead at the dull metal doors. His stoic expression belied the intimacy of the action, and she felt the first strains of annoyance begin to bubble up. How could he just stand there so unaffected, as if he had every right to make her fight for her own breath?

The elevator doors opened to the ground floor, and not a moment too soon. The thick floors had meant that the two groups had no idea what was going on with the other group, and Lucy and George were fighting by the skin of their teeth to stay alive among the hoard of ghosts surrounding them. Lucy was keeping the visitors back while George ducked and rolled around the lobby, frantically looking for sources. Lockwood and her joined Lucy, and soon enough they had the upper hand.

Once the final source was neutralised, they sat in silence, only the sound of them catching their breath filling the room. From the corner of her eye, she saw Lockwood tugging at his rapier that was somehow embedded in the wall, before he suddenly stilled. He was looking in her direction, a familiar fear clouding his eyes. Somehow, a part of her realised exactly what was happening.

She turned, hand on her rapier, stopping short. She certainly felt the chill, and there seemed to be a haze in the air, but she couldn't quite make out anything tangible. She reached out, almost as if in a trance, before she had the wind knocked out of her.

One minute she was standing, and the next she was lying on the floor, a figure crouching over her, blocking her vision, as if shielding her. A few moments passed before the figure looked up and straightened, kneeling now, light falling on the gaunt face of Lockwood. George was sheepishly holding up a musical box draped in a silver net. "Sorry, missed a source. They should all be gone now."

Lockwood turned back to her, offering a hand to pull her up, but there was this weird sort of static buzzing between her ears now. She propped herself up on her own, shoving him, and walked away fuming while he toppled over in an undignified manner.

Fucking Lockwood.

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

The air of the group was fraught with tension on the way back. She signed the report with such force that she ripped a hole in one of them, and she kept rebuffing all of Lockwood's attempts to try to talk to her. Now, they were back at 35 Portland Row. She went straight to the kitchen and started making tea, slamming the drawers, uncommonly violent. Lockwood stood a few feet away from the table, closer to the door, as if furiously working out what exactly he wanted to say to the floor. She saved him the trouble.

"What the hell was that?"

"It was a Phantasm."

"Yeah, I guessed. I mean the part about you rushing in without any equipment."

"I was out of flares and my rapier was stuck. I didn't choose to do that."

"No Lockwood, you did choose. You made that choice when you decided to run in-"

"What the hell was I supposed to do? Watch you get ghost-touched?"

"-throw all caution to the wind, playing the hero-"

"I only play the hero because I have to. You're all my responsibility."

"-because never mind the three people who work in your agency, live in your house, and care so deeply about you that they wouldn't know what to do with themselves if you died-"

"So I'm just supposed to stand around and watch the rest of you die?!"

"-but no, the great Anthony Lockwood has bigger plans, like being an absolute - you won't even look at me!"

She sat down at the table, cradling her growing migraine, muttering to herself. "God, I can't talk to you when you're like this."

"Like what?" Lockwood gripped the chair opposite hers aggressively.

"This! You get so-so distant, like you couldn't be more disinterested in other people. In me. You detach yourself and step away and I know it's all a lie." She felt her heart rate further destabilise. "I see it when you look at me, like I'm some fresh, exciting thing to marvel at. You can get mad at me, or hate me, or strangle me, but I never bore you, Lockwood."

He bent forward by two inches, angling her head in his hand, pressing a bruising kiss to her lips. It couldn't have lasted longer than a second, but they were both breathless when they broke away, faces no further than a few inches apart. Her rage was barely quelled, if not aggravated. Her face was white with anger. Even now, all he wanted to do was distract her, as if he knew it wouldn't take much. In a brief flicker of panic, a part of her worried that he knew how she felt, that he knew all along, and all of this was some sick game to screw her over. She wanted to smash his facade, watch him come undone the way she was on the inside, goad him into feeling something. "Go on, then. Do it."

"Do what?" Her breathing was uneven. The past few weeks of fleeting stolen glances were bad enough, but with his face so close to hers, she could feel her brain turning into jelly. Part of her knew what she was about to do wasn't fair to him, but their relationship had gone too haywire for her to care. There was nothing fair about the way he consumed her anyways. Whoever said it hadn't loved anybody as hard as she loved Lockwood: nothing is fair in love.

"Get rid of me. Wake up to happier mornings where I'm not around, since I'm such a burden." She wasn't entirely aware of what she was saying, or if she meant it. She was grasping desperately for any respite from the brutal assault of her emotions, so all she could do was the one thing she did best - withdraw. She leaned back, welcoming cool, grounding air into her lungs as her tears threatened to spill over the ruins of their crumbling friendship. It was as though she had been struck for having the sin of hubris, for believing her and Lockwood were built to weather the storms of affection beyond platonic love. "Fire me, whatever. Oh, you'd just love that, wouldn't you? Being all official and important? Because all Anthony Lockwood cares about is being the biggest prat in the room, whether it be by throwing his precious life away-"

"So my life is 'precious', but yours is fair game?"

"I didn't say that!"

"You didn't NEED TO!" Lockwood was gripping the chair so tightly he looked just about ready to smash it into bits. He took a few ragged breaths, as if physically trying to control his emotions. "Words only express so much-"

"But they express just enough for you, don't they?" she said bitterly. He set his jaw, hardening against the venom of her words. She placed a hand on her forehead weakly, stumbling out of the kitchen up to the attic. There she sat now, cynically judging the trees for being too green.

Over the next few days, she stayed in the attic, forcing down morsels of the food Lucy brought up to her, preferring to communicate non-verbally. After three days, she began to feel as cold and long-forgotten as that tea she was in the middle of making that day. She watched them gear up and lug their equipment into cabs from the window, but none did so as resolutely or with as much mechanical efficiency as Lockwood. She missed them, she missed working, but she wasn't about to go running down the stairs to Lockwood's room, begging for forgiveness. No; she had more pride than that.

Instead, she wiled away the hours staring at the clock and then staring out the window, until her eyes ached. It was so hot, time seemed to be slowing to a stop. The seconds hand ticked occasionally, when it felt like it, and her shirt plastered itself on her back. The heat was so oppressive and glued her eyelids shut, and it felt as though the whole room was submerged in molasses. It just wasn't the right kind of weather to reconcile.

Occasionally, her thoughts drifted to when she first joined the agency, and the words of advice Lucy had given her. "Lockwood, er, he's hard to read," she had said. "Best to leave him to it, most of the time. It takes a special kind of trust to really get to know him. You need a lot of blind faith, and it's certainly not easy terrain...but I think it's all worth it in the end."

Still, she couldn't live at the window forever. Which is why she went down to the kitchen after a fitful sleep on the third night, gingerly choking down some toast, when the rest returned from the job. Lucy hugged her from behind and George immediately set out four cups as he started to brew some tea. Despite all that, Lockwood still regarded her as stiffly as before, speaking into the distance rather than to her.

"I'm not going to fire you, if that's what you're waiting for."

In that moment, when Lockwood disowned any kind of feeling for her yet again, the last vestiges of her hope slipped away. She thought she knew him. Hell, she thought she loved him. But life was full of mistakes and disappointments, and this was yet another she had to contend with. "Fine. I quit."

Even Lockwood was momentarily stunned as she slipped past him up to the attic, blurrily throwing in anything that looked vaguely like hers into a her bags. Lucy had followed her, trying to talk some sense into her, but it all fell on deaf ears. Only George was in the kitchen by the time she was done packing, and he looked oddly forlorn as he waved at her distractedly. The door to the library was open as she shouldered past the memories of the life they had on her way to the front door. Lockwood was in his chair facing the fireplace, back to the door, glaring a hole into his book, looking as furious as she was just a few days ago.

She didn't have anything to say to him, which was just as well, because he clearly didn't have anything to say to her. She stepped out into the night, twisting sprigs of lavender in her hair, walking off into the night. George came up to the library, sighing loudly at the door, and Lockwood jerked up irritatedly.

"What?"

"Couldn't wait till after tea, could you?"

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

Three weeks later, her memories of the three of them were more diluted than she would have liked. With the little savings she had, she managed to rent a cramped apartment which didn't leave much room for decoration, which was just as well, as she didn't have many mementos. She wasn't the best at preserving memories, so all she had were some odd photos on the few times she remembered her camera.

Lockwood was in the pictures too. As hard as she tried, she couldn't just cut him and his presence out of her life; they were too irrevocably tied together. Some nights, before sleeping, she would trace the outline of his face on the one focused photograph she had of him, and wonder if she'd still recognise his voice. In spite of herself, she wondered if he ever thought about her the way she dreamt about him.

The summer heat faded, and these days rain drizzled from the sky like a leaky tap. In her case, that also meant a leaking roof, and the constant drip of the water into the bucket drove her nuts. It was the little things like the leaking roof and the refrigerator with a loud hum that never allowed her to truly rest, always kept her on the edge, that made her new life distinctly more uncomfortable than her old.

She heard a faint disjointed knock on her door. She opened the door to see a gaunt and wane Lockwood, significantly paler than she remembered. She was speechless, not quite sure what to do, and he just seemed relieved enough to see her in person. He still stood the same way he did when meeting new clients, with an air of formality, and she half-expected him to shake her hand. Instead, he pulled her into a hug; a proper one, where his arms went all the way around her. The kind of hug that made you want to cry.

She gripped the sleeve of his coat not unlike the way she did all those weeks ago, and she was suddenly aware of how little the weeks passed meant. Nothing had changed between them, except for this deep yearning tainting the fervour of their grip on each other. He still felt this need to protect her but sucked at communicating, she still reached out to him instinctively in danger but yelled at him for not putting himself first. Strife and misunderstandings were still rife in their relationship, but she had never missed fighting and loving someone the way she had missed Lockwood.

"I'm sorry," he was mumbling into her hair. "I don't know why it took me so long to realise you felt the same way I did. I guess we just express fear in different ways."

"You always were slow."

He pulled back, softly smiling in a way that erased some of his wrinkles. But the smile slipped away, and she felt the worry tugging down the corners of his mouth. "It's just...I've never felt this way about anyone before. I don't know how to express it all the time so sometimes it just feels easier to convince myself it's not there. But it Smooths things over, you know?" He inhaled shakily, tracing her cheekbone with his thumb. She could feel how hard it was for him to admit all this. "I felt it most when you were gone. It...it weighed on my mind. Never let me be fully at peace." His lips quirked into a small smile. "Much like you. I'd do anything for you, and I think that scares me."

"It scares me too. I guess the only way I could think of handling it was proving you were more scared than me. As if that would somehow make me strong and not...weak. Or vulnerable." She sighed, as if all the exhaustion of the past few weeks had all caught up to her in this very moment. "You make me crumble, Lockwood, but I've never felt stronger."

His eyes unfocused as his hand on her cheekbone slipped. "What if I can't protect you? What if I can't drive away every single visitor in time? What if you get hurt? How do people live like this?"

She held his hands, stopping his spiral. "I think I have enough experience driving away people who are more than a little obsessed with me."

He laughed, pulling her into a hug. What once felt overstimulating was now oddly comforting. The beat of his heart, the rhythm of his breath, the vibrations of his laughter...she wanted to feel that every day for the rest of her life.

"What I did...it really was different. You do realise that, right?"

"Yes."

"I had my rapier with me."

"You did."

"You didn't have anything."

"Hmm, I panicked." He continued hastily under her stern gaze. "What I mean is, I will try to be more careful. Promise." He put on his most angelic expression. She rolled her eyes. She took his hand as they stepped out in the final drops of summer rain. Life together wasn't always going to be smooth-sailing, or even remotely manageable, but she had a feeling that they would be alright.

[holdinbacksecrets]

seventeen: chapter 1 to page 218

♡it’s a tuesday when you receive the keys to your new apartment. the city feels like a brand new book: edges crisp and vibrant, title alluring. the first chapter’s name keeps a spotlight in your mind, and he’s sitting in the lobby. he sees you with your suitcases. there’s three; they’re periwinkle. your mother sent them- the last package to arrive before your move. he’s on the phone, but he smiles at you, softly, like he knows the scent of waterfront landscape hasn’t yet embedded you, but it’s going to (jeonghan, jun, mingyu)

♡the life behind his door floods through the wood, through the light escaping from the crack just above the floor. you wonder how that happens. how a life is so radiant. you wonder for weeks. the thought keeps you busy on every elevator ride until your paths meet, and one focused gaze unravels understanding. a pool of brown, so inviting. a ring of golden hugs each pupil. you take a step forward as if a dive into them would hasten the journey to his heart, like it’s a possible option, entirely within reason. patience. be patient (hansol)

♡he’s moonlight, somehow. nothing else feels right. no other description melts into his name, into his aura quite the same. but he hates the darkness nighttime brings. he hates any moment clouds cover the glowing, guiding satellite. he hates the sky for reminding him of you. it never used to, not before his next door neighbor became his best friend, became his lover, became a craved, crescent disaster (minghao, seungkwan)

♡you gave pieces of yourself away every time he came inside. a leaky faucet. a squeaky door. he wondered if you even tried to fix the broken things. he wondered if they’re even bothersome, or if you’re lonely, seeking another in the space that can’t quite reach Home. there are too many corners it’s yet to seep into, but he’s a distraction. he hides the hollow spaces, sprinkles warmth before he goes. it lasts. you think of him, he lingers longer, and then you’re asking him back for more. he alters the pitch. his tone creates a welcomed depth. so yes, he helps: you’re baking again; you’re barefoot, drinking tea on the balcony each morning; you’re seeping into the corners, and it feels like home (seungcheol, joshua, chan)

♡there’s a spiderweb on your ceiling. you only know because you’re laying on the floor. you watched the fan spin spinning, ready for takeoff, and then your eyes shifted. the spiderweb is missing its dweller. you wonder where it’s gone. if it’s hiding, collecting supplies, letting tiny, spider-curiosity guide a spontaneous journey. you smile: you have a roommate. the smile sticks through your travels to the mailroom where you ask the man who’s always there on thursday evenings after dinner if he wants to see something. he lays beside you. he wonders aloud if this something is the ceiling fan. you giggle. his heart melts. you point to the spiderweb. “i have a roommate until you agree to live with me.” “can it keep my side of the bed warm?” “sleeping quarters don’t include my bedroom. did you hear that, little guy? we’re not as close as he and i.” “thank god. i was starting to worry.” “ mmm, predictable.” “…can i keep your bed warm tonight?” “the night of a snowstorm? absolutely.” (soonyoung, wonwoo, jihoon, seokmin)

[be11atrixthestrange]

The Loft 8

After a bad break-up, Hermione Granger moves into a messy and dysfunctional loft with four single men. What starts as a temporary home until she gets back on her feet becomes so much more, as she learns there's a lot of life - and love - that happens at rock-bottom.

Inspired by the TV Series ‘New Girl’

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Also on A03 | FFN

More Chapters

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In a crazy turn of events, I updated The Loft after 2 years... :)

Chapter 8

A watched egg never cooks. Is that the saying? Ron doesn’t know — he’s terrible at idioms and shit. If it’s not a saying, it’s definitely accurate. 

He stands in front of the stove, waiting for his egg to fry. It’s taking forever, and he’s tempted to just leave it there, but maybe then he’d burn the whole loft down. That, or Vicky would eat it. 

Vicky’s here this morning, just like he was here yesterday morning. And the morning before that. It almost feels like they have another roommate, one that doesn’t pay rent and that Ron didn’t choose. Well, he didn’t choose Hermione either, but that worked out. Sort of. 

Ever since Hermione and Victor became ‘official’, they’ve spent almost every waking moment together. Ron comes home after work, Krum is here. He wakes up in the morning, Krum is still here. The only time Krum seems to spend outside of the apartment is between the hours of 9-5, and one hour at night, 8-9 pm, on Tuesdays and Thursdays. 

Whenever Ron has asked where he goes, he gets all weird and quiet. Whenever he asks Hermione, she doesn’t seem to know or care. 

“Honestly, Ron, it’s important for couples to spend time apart.”

“But Hermione, do you know where he goes?”

“No, because I respect his privacy.”

Why is Vicky the only one in this loft entitled to privacy? He often wonders when someone empties the laundry machine and leaves a trail of socks and underwear across the living room floor, or late at night when he can hear his roommates’ beds creaking, knowing they brought home a companion, a poor soul who has no idea how thin the walls are. 

It begs the question, what kind of dark shit is Krum getting up to between the hours of 8 and 9pm on Tuesdays and Thursdays if he can’t even tell his girlfriend about it?

Maybe he has an embarrassing hobby. Or a gambling addiction. Or a second girlfriend. 

Ron tries to ignore his heart’s fluttering in response to the last thought. What sort of friend would hope for that kind of thing?

“You might want to turn the stove on,” comes a gruff voice, interrupting Ron’s thoughts. “Or your egg will never cook.”

With a groan, Ron flicks on the burner. 

“Are you okay?” asks Krum as he takes a seat at the kitchen counter. “You seem distracted.”

Ron glances back at his unwelcome roommate. His thick robe hangs loosely around his waist, forming a deep v neck that exposes Krum’s chiseled pecs and chest hair. Why can’t the dude just cover himself up a bit? 

“M’fine.”

“Okay then. Look, I’m going to be out of town for the weekend—”

“You don’t have to tell me that,” interrupts Ron. 

“Sorry?”

“You don’t even live here, so you don’t have to tell us when you’ll be out.”

Ron keeps his back to Krum as he lets the awkward pause wash over. Sure, maybe he should be nicer to the guy, but someone should gently tell him he’s overstaying his welcome. Hermione won’t. 

“I was just going to ask if I could keep my car out front. Sometimes I get towed if I leave it out at my apartment—”

“Yeah. That’s fine.”

“Great,” says Krum as he rises to his feet and turns back toward Hermione’s room. “Thanks.”

“Where are you going this weekend?”

“Nowhere.” The sound of Hermione’s door closing punctuates Krum’s response.

Hmm. Very odd. 

Moments later, Harry appears from his bedroom door, still disheveled in his pajamas. “What’s got you down?”

“Vicky.”

“What about Viktor?”

“I’m telling you, he’s giving me the creeps.”

Harry chuckles. “Since when?”

“The cabin trip we all went on.”

Harry lets a full laugh escape, as he responds. “You’re ridiculous. He never bothered you before.”

“I think he’s cheating on Hermione.”

Harry’s eyes narrow and glances toward Hermione’s bedroom. “She doesn’t deserve that, but how do you know?”

“Gut feeling.”

“Ron—”

“I think if I went to his place, I’d find proof.” Ron raises an eyebrow at his friend, who violently shakes his head. 

“No.”

“Please come with me? I’ll give you free beer.”

“No. Plus you always give me free beer.”

Ron shrugs. “I’m going alone then. He’ll be out of town this weekend, and it’s the perfect opportunity to just check in.”

Harry groans. “You’re going to force my hand aren’t you?”

“Just come with me and make sure I don’t do anything unreasonable?”

“Going in the first place is unreasonable.”

“Still gonna do it.” 

Ron knows that Harry can’t resist a little bit of mischief, so all he has to do is wait him out. Ninety percent of the unreasonable things Ron has done in his life have involved his best friend.

Like clockwork, Harry raises an eyebrow. “Okay. When are you going?”

“Tomorrow morning, after Krum leaves town.”

Harry groans. “You know this is a terrible idea?”

“Yes. But I don’t care.”

“We’re not going to do anything illegal, right?”

Ron imagines what exactly they’ll do tomorrow — show up at Krum’s apartment and just open the door? If Vicky’s dumb enough to leave his door unlocked while he’s out of town, then sure. But he’s definitely not dumb. If he was, Hermione would be staying far far away from him, and yet, here they are. It won’t be the first time Ron has snuck into a window. He was a horny teenager with a girlfriend and strict parents before, and crowbars are quite effective. 

“No, of course we won’t do anything illegal.”

Harry nods. “Then fine,” he says, the reluctance in his voice rather light. 

“Knew I could count on you.”

x

It doesn’t take long for Ron and Harry to locate Viktor’s address — the internet is a wonderful invention. They pull up to his street and emerge from the car. On Ron’s back is a bag equipped with a crowbar, a rope, and a clipboard. Ron’s found that holding a clipboard is the best way to look like you’re supposed to be there.

“None of this makes sense, mate.”

“Sure it does.” 

As Ron shuffles along the pavement of an unfamiliar neighborhood, Harry trots behind him in an effort to keep up. 

“You have no evidence that he’s cheating.”

“That’s why we’re doing this. To find some.”

“Ugh.”

Harry and Ron eventually stumble to the front porch of Viktor Krum’s duplex. It is larger than expected, but slightly run-down. The grass in the front lawn needs to be mowed, and on the front porch sit two pots that once housed plants, maybe. By the looks of it, no one has watered them in years. The paint is peeling off of the siding, and one of the stairs on the front stoop has rotted through. Even though their loft is still rather dumpy, Viktor’s makes it look like a castle. 

“No wonder he’s always staying at our apartment.”

Ron peers around to the side of the house. A cracked window reveals an unmade bed inside. From his research, Ron knows that Krum lives in the first apartment on the left. 

“We’re going in through the window.”

“Breaking and entering, cool,” grumbles Harry. 

“Just entering. No need to break.”

Harry and Ron tiptoe across the overgrown grass and when they reach the window, it takes both of them to wedge it up high enough for them to fit through. Harry props Ron up and he slithers head-first into Viktor Krum’s bedroom. Harry follows, and both boys land in a thud on the carpet of the darkened room.

“You’d think he’d be able to afford a nicer place,” says Ron. 

“Maybe he’s saving for an engagement ring or something,” sniggers Harry.

“Fuck mate, why would you say that?”

“To watch you squirm.”

Harry and Ron get to searching Krum’s apartment, flipping over couch cushions and rummaging through bookshelves looking for something — anything — that might belong to a girl who isn’t Hermione. Jewelry, clothing, makeup, perfume. One sniff and Ron would surely be able to tell if the perfume is hers. 

“What’s this?” Harry’s voice travels from a smaller room attached to the living area. Ron peers inside to find a cluttered desk next to a bookshelf. Lining the shelf is a collection of Agatha Christie and Stephen King novels, and writing utensils galore. Harry is standing at the desk with a thick binder in his hands. “I think it’s a story.”

“Let me read it.” Ron yanks the binder from Harry’s hands and turns to a random page. 

“She was dead. So very dead. The way her bushy brown hair splayed across the ground and nearly blended in with the fallen leaves made her look so natural in that state, like she was finally at peace. But her eyes were open, revealing the look of shock in her face. But there was something else there. Recognition. Betrayal. 

Her hand still clutched the stab wound in her stomach, and Special Agent Reid knew that her stomach lining wasn’t the only thing that had recently been broken. So had her heart. 

Clearly, she knew her killer. And most likely, if statistics proved to be true — and Spencer Reid always trusted statistics — it was her lover.”

“What the fuck is this?” splutters Ron.

Harry laughs. “I don’t know, but I’d be embarrassed if someone found that at my desk. I think he’s just writing. Special Agent Reid is a character on Criminal Minds.”

“Yeah, and the dead girl with bushy brown hair is clearly Hermione.”

“It appears to be fanfiction.”

Who the fuck writes fanfiction? “Oddly specific fanfiction.”

“I don’t think it’s anything to be concerned about,” shrugs Harry. “It’s probably just a creative outlet.”

“She was killed by her lover, Harry.”

“We should probably go,” says Harry. “I’m nervous someone saw us sneaking in here, and we can’t find what we’re looking for.”

Can’t find what we’re looking for? What the fuck is he talking about? “Harry, we’ve found something much worse than what we’re looking for.”

“Fanfiction?”

“No, evidence that he thinks about killing Hermione.”

“He doesn’t think about that, Ron. He’s just writing.”

“Why aren’t you more concerned about this?”

“Honestly?” Harry shrugs. “Because he’s not a bad guy. He treats Hermione well. He’s kind. And we just discovered an embarrassing secret of his and should probably keep it to ourselves.”

“Don’t you think we should tell her and let her decide if it’s concerning?”

“Hermione’s a grown woman who can take care of herself.”

Ron sighs. He pulls his phone from his pocket and snaps a picture of the open page of Krum’s story. “Well I’m going to tell her.”

“How are you going to explain why we were in his apartment?”

“Dunno.”

“Want my opinion, Ron?”

No. Not really. Ron decides not to answer, but Harry continues anyway. 

“Leave her alone. It really feels like you want him to be cheating on her. Or to, I dunno, be plotting to murder her.” He gestures to the binder when he emphasizes the word. “See how ridiculous it sounds when I say it?”

Ron has to admit that Harry has a point. 

“I know you care about her, so stop sabotaging your friendship by meddling in her relationship.”

Ron grunts. “When did you become so good at relationships?”

Harry gets a strange look in his eye. “Well, if you must know—”

“No, I don’t need to know,” grumbles Ron, as the memory of Harry and Ginny holding hands flashes across his mind. 

“Fair enough,” says Harry with a smile. “Let’s get out of here before we get caught?”

“Yeah,” agrees Ron . Probably a good idea. 

x

Hours later, Ron is cleaning glasses at the Burrow while Harry sits across from him at the bar, picking at a pile of french fries in front of him. “I still can’t believe we snuck into his house.”

“I can,” says Ron with a shrug. Honestly, it felt a lot like storming Cormac for Hermione’s belongings when she first moved in. Some people make Ron want to throw logic out the window. 

“You’re an awful influence, Ron.”

No, Hermione’s the awful influence. Ron turns to stack newly washed glasses on the shelf at the back of the bar. He is definitely being unreasonable. Hermione, in no way shape or form, caused him to break into Krum’s apartment. It was his concern for her that did. Because he cares. Plus, even if Harry doesn’t agree, if you ask Ron, they found what they were looking for. 

“Hello, roommates.” Hermione’s voice echoes from the front door. It’s only three o’clock, and the bar doesn’t pick up until later, and the lack of people in the room makes Hermione’s presence seem all that much stronger. 

“Oh, hi Hermione,” says Ron.

“Hey, Hermione. Good to see ya,” says Harry. “Also, I’m going to be late to meet Gin, so see you back at the loft later—”

“I didn’t know you were hanging out with Ginny today.”

Harry pushes his half-eaten french fries out of the way and rises to his feet. “Bye!” 

Hermione takes his empty chair, and both of them watch Harry scuffle out the front door with an extra pep in his step. 

“That was weird,” says Hermione with a shrug. 

“Yeah.”

She pulls Harry’s plate of french fries closer to her, and plucks at one. “So what did you two do today?”

“Nothing, really.”

“Really? I just didn’t see either of you at the loft.”

Ron avoids her eye contact and shrugs. “Guy stuff.”

“Right,” she says, while she cocks her head to the side, studying him. “So are you working till close?”

“Yep.” Ron feels a pang of guilt at how terse his answers are. Ever since the cabin, he’s been quite short with her. He tells himself he’s just giving her space, but deep down, he knows it goes beyond that. 

Hermione persists. “Mind if I hang out here for a while? Obviously Ginny’s busy with Harry and Viktor’s gone for the weekend.”

“Sure,” he says. Then, willing himself to keep the conversation flowing, he adds “You still don’t know where Viktor is this weekend?”

Hermione hesitates before answering. “Just on a trip.”

So she does know where he is? Or maybe she doesn’t and it worries her.  

Overwhelmed with a desire to come clean, Ron turns back to her. “Can I tell you something, and you promise you won’t get mad at me?”

Hermione seems to brighten at the fact that his answer is longer than one word. “No, I can’t promise that, Ron. But please tell me.”

Ron groans. He shouldn’t say anything. But he does. “He gives me a weird vibe. Something’s off.”

“Of course he does,” says Hermione, rolling her eyes. 

“What does that mean?” asks Ron, his defenses rising. 

“Seriously, Ron?” she asks, her voice incredulous. “Tell me, Ron, see that guy in the booth?”

Ron follows her gesture to one of the only other patrons currently in the bar — a middle aged man reading a book and sipping an IPA. “Yes.” “Does he give you a weird vibe?”

“No, not really.”

“If I were to walk over to him and snog him, would he then give you a weird vibe?”

What kind of question is that? “Yes, but because he’s willing to snog a stranger in a bar—”

“You’re not willing to snog strangers at bars?” Ron’s mind darts back to Lavender. Sure, he was willing to snog strangers at bars, but they all know how that turned out. 

“Okay, what are you saying?”

“I know we’re dancing around it Ron. It’s the elephant in the room.”

The hair on Ron’s arm tingles as it stands on edge. The last thing he expects is for Hermione to actually name the elephant in the room. Does this mean she’s about to shut him down once and for all? Tell him she’s happy with Krum? And that he should fuck off? Well, Fuck. 

“Okay, but—”

“I love being your friend and your roommate, I’m in a stable relationship, and not willing to change that right now.”

Shit. 

Hermione continues. “Will Viktor and I marry each other? Probably not. But at this point in my life, this is what I need.”

So, Hermione thinks Ron is pining uncontrollably for her? Is that how it is? “I didn’t break up with Lavender because of you, you know.”

“Oh, I know.”

Does she know, though? 

“And that is not why Krum gives me a vibe.”

She laughs. “Okay, why then?”

Ron groans. He really shouldn’t show her. Even if she thinks he found it at the loft, she’d probably just get angry at him for going through his things. But, for some reason, he can’t resist. “I found this today.”

Ron pulls his phone from his pocket and clicks through his photos. When the photo of Krum’s little story surfaces, he slides his phone to her across the bar. 

Hermione picks it up and her eyebrows narrow to the text. “Where did you find this, Ron?”

What can he say? On his desk. In his apartment. The one I broke into earlier. “He left it out,” says Ron. It’s technically not a lie. 

“That’s an invasion of his privacy,” says Hermione, coldly. 

“Does it not concern you?”

Hermione shrugs. “Honestly, no, it doesn’t. He’s already shown me.”

“What?”

Hermione contemplates before giving up more details. “He’s taking a creative writing class, and this was one of his assignments,” she says, gesturing to Ron’s phone. “To write a fanfiction story from his favorite show. And he loves Criminal Minds.”

“Are you serious?” Harry was fucking right.

“Yes, it’s what he does every Tuesday and Thursday night. And that’s where he is now, actually, at a writing retreat.”

“So he’s like… serious about writing?”

Hermione shrugs. 

“It doesn’t bother you that you’re the dead girl in that story?”

“Not really, no.”

“And that you were killed by your lover?”

Hermione laughs but shakes her head. 

“It’s not very good.” He’s definitely grasping at straws now. 

“I know that,” says Hermione. Ron’s pleasantly surprised that she agrees with him. 

“Why does he do it?”

“He enjoys it. Isn’t that enough?” Finishing off Harry’s old fries, Hermione wipes her hand on a napkin. “Can I have a cream ale?”

“Sure,” says Ron as he reaches for a pint glass. “So you’re confident that he doesn’t want to kill you?”

Hermione laughs. “No, he doesn’t, thank god.”

“He’s not going to break your stomach lining and then your heart?”

“Okay,” groans Hermione. “Don’t be mean.”

Ron hands her the dripping cream ale. She smiles and takes it from him, her cheeks tinging pink with what Ron presumes is secondhand embarrassment. Honestly, it’s quite nice that she supports him, even though his hobby is a bit weird. It’s what Ron would call a green flag. Krum is a lucky bastard.

“My heart isn’t breakable right now, anyway,” she adds, before taking a sip of the foam layer at the top of her beer.

Ron cocks an eyebrow. 

“Still have too many walls up, you know.”

“Oh I know, you’re a total ice queen.”

Hermione laughs, and Ron feels himself relax. It was a tough few days of not speaking freely with her. 

“Thank you for talking to me. I missed having you as my friend,” she says. 

The way she emphasizes friend sits strangely with Ron. As though she’s dictating the specific role she wants him to play right now. For some reason, it doesn’t feel quite like being friendzoned, and he can’t figure out why. There’s something temporary about the way she says friend. 

Or is he reading way too much into that? He doesn’t want to be her friend. And yet, he loves being her friend. How does that even make sense? 

“Right,” says Ron, cautiously. “So if I wanted to write bad fanfiction, would you support me? As a friend?”

“Of course!” says Hermione cheerfully. “I’d beta read for you.”

“Well then, maybe I’ll take up the habit. Show you I have other talents besides giving you free beer and being your attractive roommate.”

Hermione rolls her eyes, yet a smile graces her lips. “I bet you’d be a good writer,” she says as she gulps down the last of her beer.

“Maybe you’ll find out. Want another beer?”

“Sure!”

Ron pulls her glass away and refills it under the tap. This is definitely the weirdest friendship he has. But he’ll play along. 

For now. 

x

It is far too late when Ron finally makes it home from the bar, and as much as he wants to sleep, he’s too wired from his conversation before. He strips down to his boxers and collapses into the bed. Although he would love to continue talking with Hermione, there are no signs of life in any of the bedrooms, so it’s a safe bet that everyone in the loft is asleep. 

Ron turns to his side and reaches his phone on his bedside table. Without a second thought, he starts typing away. Hopefully Hermione has her text notifications on silent. There is no reason she can’t have two story tellers in her life. 

“She was about 5’6, had brown eyes, and wore a Hamilton t-shirt. She loved to watch romantic comedies and was a total coffee snob, even though she couldn’t tell the difference between a cappuccino and a latte. Her sultry gaze and bushy brown hair splayed wildly out at all angles, making her appear like a sexy medusa. In fact she could turn you rock hard in an instant. She had her whole life ahead of her. Or so she thought…”

Before he can overthink it, Ron presses send. 

His heart rate quickens as he stares at his message. She’s asleep, so there is no way she’ll see it until tomorrow morning—

Then, three little dots appear at the bottom of his screen, and his palms begin to sweat. Oh shit. 

“Oh my god, Ron, what is this?”

Well, he’s committed now. 

“Little did she know, her life as she knew it was about to end. In walked a man, about 6’5, bright red hair, and a pale, yet chiseled adonis-like body. Nothing like her current boyfriend, but everything she wished her current boyfriend could be. He didn’t waste time writing fanfiction and playing sports, and instead crafted beautiful cocktails from the basement dive bar, was quite broke, and regularly forgot to do his laundry. Like a REAL MAN.”

Hermione is quicker to respond this time. “You’re ridiculous. But keep going please.”

Yes, ma’am. “And he wasn’t just a sex god. He was also a… dun dun dun… MURDERER.”

“LMAO. This is so mean. But I’m laughing so hard.”

Ron continues typing away. “She knew all of this. And yet, she still wanted him. She didn’t care if it was her last night on earth, because she knew it would be her best night on earth. And that was all she needed.”

“OMG now you’re getting carried away.”

She’s not wrong, yet something urges him to keep going. “She entered his apartment, so he could enter HER.”

Yeah, maybe he is getting carried away, but it’s fun, so what’s the harm? Plus, she promised to support his creative writing journey. 

While waiting for Hermione’s response, Ron’s bedroom door bursts open, and Hermione stomps across the room. Her face is flushed and Ron can tell she is trying to hide a smile. “Phone, please?” she asks, her arm extended.

“No, I’m writing a story!”

Hermione stands her ground. “You’ve lost your phone privileges.”

“But I’m going to be the next Stephen King.”

Hermione lets out a laugh and dives onto the bed, wrestling his hand for his phone. She braces her knees on either side of him, pinning him between her legs. Ron makes a show of struggling, but as much as he wants to keep her there forever, he eventually lets her win. 

“Fine,” he says, handing over his phone. 

It only takes a moment for them to pause, limbs entangled, for Ron’s mind to run wild. How easy would it be for him to turn the moment serious? He could wrap an arm around her waist and pin her to him. He doubts she’d resist. She has a boyfriend, but she also seems surprisingly comfortable with her arms draped around Ron’s body. She knows he’s only wearing boxers under the covers, right?

They linger there for a moment that solidifies Ron’s inkling from before. She bites her lip, her eyes dart down toward the covers. The way she doesn’t immediately jump off of the bed when she notices that he’s in his underwear suggests that the friendzone is an arbitrary construct. 

Ron steadies his voice in an effort to hide his rising heart beat.  “Careful, Hermione. I’m a sex god with a habit for murder.” 

Yeah, took one second for him to fuck that up. 

“I fucking hate you,” she says, as she wrangles herself back up, his phone in her hand. “You are most definitely not a killer.” 

Yeah, it took one second for him to fuck that up. However, Ron’s stomach flutters at the sound of her swearing. She hardly ever cusses, only when she’s with him. “Right, but am I a sex god?”

Hermione laughs. “I wouldn’t know, would I?”

Ron raises an eyebrow. “Care to find out?” 

Maybe he shouldn’t have had that whiskey shot at the end of his shift. He’s acting a bit too bold. 

“I have a boyfriend.”

Her answer echoes in Ron’s mind. He doesn’t miss the way Hermione averts her gaze, and her cheeks flush red.

“I know. We’ve established that.” Then, with a inhale to gain courage, he adds, “But if you didn’t?”

Maybe Ron imagines it, but a look flashes across her eyes, and the corners of her lips turn up in a smile. She shakes her head as if to halt the beginning of a fantasy before it runs wild. “I really should sleep. Goodnight, Ron.”

“Night, Hermione.”

Ron grins as she turns and leaves the room, fully aware that she never answered his question.

[ironstrange1991]

Strange Love (Part 5)

Pairing: Doctor!Strange x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: When planning a new mission, Y/n ends up getting into a confrontation with one of the Avengers. Meanwhile, Stephen tries to convince her that she needs to learn more about her powers before using them in battle.

Word Count: 6,9k

Warnings: Y/n hates a certain Avenger and has a rather peculiar view of things. This can be uncomfortable for some people who don't agree with her point of view. Other than that, we have sexual content, basically oral sex and penetration with no protection.

A/N: I'm going to endorse all of Y/n's words on the matter at hand because (obviously) that's also my point of view on the matter.

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

Chapter 5: Stand My Ground

Back in your apartment, you concentrated very hard not to think about Loki, but deep down you were feeling bad even though you knew you hadn't done anything wrong. You weren't cheating on Loki, you had been pretty honest about your feelings. You didn't feel the same way about him, something had changed and even if you hadn't said it word by word, he knew that Stephen Strange was responsible for this change. He just didn't know that the Stephen Strange of your universe was involved. You were happy. After so much suffering, you were feeling happy and you couldn't let guilt spoil that.

Tony and Pepper returned to the tower three days later on a busy Thursday. Natasha and Clint were there too, plus Banner and Rogers and Rhodes of course. You liked the feeling of having the Tower crowded with people you liked and cared about. Of course, if you could exclude Rogers from the equation you'd be happier, but that wasn't an option.

However, with Tony's return, you became aware of murmurs and conversations and soon you realized that something was going on, something they needed to sort out and that Tony wasn't telling you. You had no idea what it was and was too distracted to catch anything.

Your mind was lost on Stephen, always on him all day. It was your first thought when you woke up and the last when you went to sleep. You couldn’t deny you were in love with him. Those were definitely symptoms of passion.

Or love. Stephen’s voice sounded in your head and you were shocked.

I'm not the one doing this, sweetheart, you're actually distracting me from what I'm doing.

You smiled to yourself in total surprise.  “Sorry, I don't know how I'm doing this.”

“What are you doing?”  Tony asked coming in and approaching with both hands in his pocket.

Oops, dad caught us. Stephen’s voice teased you.

You concentrated on trying to end that mental link with him and were surprised when you could physically feel it slipping away. As if an uncomfortable pressure on the side of your head disappeared.

“You said you didn't know how you were doing it.”

You decided to stay close to the truth.

“This thing in my head, it's getting out of hand.”

He looked at you worriedly.

“Is everything okay, Tony?”

He smiled trying to hide his concern. “Well, I'm glad you mentioned that thing on your head... I need your help.”

You nodded. “Of course, whatever you need.”

He sat in the sofa next to you. There's a guy, we suspect he has weapons made with technology from Strucker's lab.

“What kind of weapons?” You asked already feeling anxious.

"The dangerous kind. Strucker was working with Loki's scepter.”

“The mind stone.”

Tony agreed.

“Does this guy have a name?”

Tony ran a hand over his face. “I don't know, Rogers knows him. I think he's called Crossbones." He shrugged “You know, nowadays any idiot gives himself a cool name...”

“What…?”

Tony looked at you surprised “Do you know him?”

You nodded. “Worked for Hydra. I know him, but Rogers knows him a lot better.”

Tony shooked his head. “Yeah, It looks like Rogers thought he was dead, but that's not what happened. He came to me asking for help to put an end to the guy.”

Your blood boiled in your veins and you got up. Why did everything that went wrong always have to be related to Steve Rogers?

“Lagos.”

“What’s that?” Tony seemed confused by your sudden irritation.

“Rogers lost him in Lagos. That's when it all happened. The Civil War.”

Tony didn't seem to keep up. “What civil war?”

You sighed in a rare moment of impatience with Tony. “People name big things that happens with the Avengers, Tony. I thought you knew that.” You sighed trying to stay calm. “That's not the point. The Civil War was when the Sokovia accords came out. The fight at Leipzig Airport, all that, that's what they call it.”

Tony nodded getting slightly more serious. Memories of the event flooded back to his mind, apparently.

“Rogers... everything that happened was his fault. What came later with the accords was a consequence of his actions and everything he did…”

Tony ran a hand over his face and seeing him shaken like that just by the memory of that event infuriated you even more, bringing out a protective instinct towards him that you didn't even know existed. Usually you were his protégé, but sometimes Tony needed someone to care for him. Though he liked the name, he was far from being iron made.

“What they did to you, the way they acted... and now he says he didn't solve the case?”

“Listen...” He ran his hand over his face. “I'm not going to defend the guy, he screwed up, but we need to solve this.”

“How can you take this so calmly? Tony, I cried all night when I saw what he did to you.”

Tony took your hand in his. ���It doesn’t matter anymore. It's not about him, it's about the people who might get hurt if this lunatic decides to use these weapons. He asked me for help, I'll take over the case, but I need your help.”

He grabbed your shoulder. “Will you help me?”

You sighed. “Of course. I'll do anything for you, Tony.”

He smiled “And I for you.”

You tried to put your thoughts in order. “I'll try to locate him. Is that what you need?”

“Yes. Thank you, darling.”

…

It wasn't long before you managed to see Crossbones. The use of your mental abilities was starting to freak you out. You had no doubt that you had exceptional powers and abilities, but you had no control over them and wondered how far you could go without the help of someone who could teach you how to deal with them.

Crossbones had a secret laboratory in a disused power plant in Ukraine. When you told him what you discovered, Tony called a meeting to decide all the details of the plan for the attack and asked you to pass the information to the other Avengers.

“The plant has been deactivated for more than 40 years.” Natasha informed after researching the name and location that you gave her.

You nodded. “Only Strucker's men roam the place” You explained. “Anyone who stands in our way is an enemy.”

“They don't even imagine we're going, so it will be easier than we thought.” Rhodes stated. “I still think we should put the army in front of this.”

“If we use the army the government will know about the mission and it's not what we want”  Rogers said with his calm voice that always got to irritate you.

“We have the element of surprise, but it won't be easy” Tony explained. “Y/n took a look at the weapons they created.”

“The weapons are dangerous” You  said. “They have weapons with firepower equivalent to half the bomb used on Hiroshima. The others are even more disturbing.”

“What kind of weapons are we talking about?” Rogers asked.

“The dangerous kind” You replied dryly without looking at him. “They are weapons with cognitive-psychic powers.”

Natasha seemed scared and you knew the mind control thing was something that could mess with her because of her forced process to become a Black Widow.

“If they use it, they can turn us against each other” Banner said, understanding.

"It wouldn't be the first time something involving Crossbones has put one Avenger against another," You replied.

“So, what's the plan?” Nat asked.

“I came up...” Rogers started, but you stared at him and he stopped.

“I believe that the weapons reach the mind through a peculiar sound it makes, something imperceptible to our ears, but which has a cognitive behavioral effect.”

“In other words” Tony said smiling at you like a proud father. “Ear plugs developed with nanotechnology.”

Tony showed the devices you created together.

“What if it doesn't work?” Rogers asked. “Or if something goes wrong? We need a plan in case this goes wrong.”

“Like it happened in Lagos?” You asked and he didn't answer. Everyone was silent. “Explain to me, Captain, this is your mess, isn't it? Or does no one else remember what happened in Lagos?” You asked the others sitting now in dead silence. “All those people died because of you. “

“I made a mistake” He said staring his own hands.

“You made many mistakes and I'm sorry if I can't do like everyone else and pretend that nothing happened. Pretending that you and Wanda Maximoff weren't responsible for hundreds of deaths in Nigeria and swallowing your arrogant face wanting to give orders and make plans.”

Everyone was stunned, but you couldn't stop talking, the words just kept coming out of your mouth.

“The great Captain America. The first Avenger.” You looked at him spitting the words like they were poison in your mouth. “You're not living in a bubble anymore, Captain. The world just got bigger. There are bigger fishes now and if we take away the serum and your arrogance, what's left?”

Tony glanced at you understanding exactly where you got those words from.

Rogers remained silent. Fists clenched.

“I'll say... mistakes. It's what's left. Many mistakes. You can play nice all you want, but when things got really tough you weren't there to help. And I'm not talking about guns dealers.”

“Y/n…” Tony’s voice was shaky. “Let it go.”

But you just couldn't let go. Not when you'd seen in Tony's eyes how much it still hurt.

“The missile in NY? Tony. Sokovia in the air? Thor and Tony.”

You took a step towards him. “A spaceship has invaded Manhattan. Where were you?”

He looked at you, clearly shaken by your words.

“You were never there. You're good at making promises, but not very good at keeping them, are you? Unless of course we're talking about your dear friend Bucky. For him all promises are kept. All the... secrets.”

Tony ran a hand over his face.

“So when I say we have a plan, you accept the plan because this is your fault and we are cleaning up the shit you did. Don't question it because you have no right to question. You shouldn't even be here, but I'm not the one who decides, am I? I'm just suggesting that next time, unless you got your hand in that gauntlet and destroyed Thanos and his entire army with a snap of your fingers... shut the fuck up.”

Tony looked at you, clearly upset about the situation, but something in his eyes showed he was glad those words were spoken.

You sighed. “But I'm going to leave now, and you can put together a plan in case I'm wrong and the Captain is right. After all, he likes to be right, even when he rarely is.”

Rogers stared at you mutely as you left the room leaving them in complete silence.

…

You  went up to your apartment and made yourself some tea to try to calm your nerves. You knew perfectly well that you shouldn't have lost control, but you had it all stuck in your throat for years.

You drank tea slowly and distracted yourself finishing some French exercises that were already late and then your phone rang, it was Stephen.

“What you were doing unintentionally” He said. “I think I know a way to help you learn to control.”

 “ How?” You asked confused.

“Well... it involves other issues that I would like to talk about. Can we have dinner tonight?”

You thought for a second. “Of course. Yes, please, I would love to get away from this environment today.”

“What happened?” He asked confused.

“It’s nothing. Well, I'll tell you at dinner.”

“I'll pick you up at 8 pm. What do you think?”

“Great. Will you drive us there or just open a portal?” You asked teasing him.

“Unfortunately I don't think opening a portal it’s a very discreet way to enter a restaurant” He said laughing that deep and dazzling laugh. “At 8pm, then.”

“Can’t wait.”

You hung up the phone and Natasha was behind you.

“I'm sorry, the door was open.”

“No, it wasn’t.” You replied dryly already a bit defensive.

She nodded. “It wasn’t locked.”

“If you came here to scold me, it's a waste of time. Nobody in the world is going to convince me that Steve Rogers didn't deserve to hear that.”

Natasha nodded. “I didn't come to scold you. Rogers can be...difficult to deal with. You don't like him. You don’t need to.”

“Good, I'm relieved to know.”

“Actually I came to ask how you are” She said sitting in the armchair next to you. “After everything that happened... I didn't have the opportunity to say how sorry I am.”

You took a deep breath “Thank you, Nat. I'm fine, I'm feeling better.”

She nodded and then looked at the cell phone in your hand. “And does this improvement have anything to do with this date you are going to?”

You didn't answer right away which she took as a yes.

“Tony said you broke up with Loki”

“I  wasn't talking to Loki.”

She glanced at you with those watchful eyes and then she smiled. “I knew you guys had a thing.”

“We don’t.”

“Yes, you have.” Natasha smiled, seeing you fall into her usual trick. She seemed happy for some reason. “He's a nice guy.  Doctor, sorcerer...”

“Master of the mystic arts” You corrected her and she smiled, seeing you unintentionally confirm it.

“A little bit old and very old-fashioned with that goatee, but if that's what you're into...”

“Are you talking about me?” Tony asked and then apologized. “The door was open.”

“It wasn’t” You and Nat answered in unison.

Tony looked at you with his hands in his pockets. “Rogers left. I think you hurt him.”

You rolled your eyes.

“I came here to thank you. Really. But I don't think it's worth, Y/n... I've already tortured myself too much for everything that happened, I don't want you to suffer for me.”

You shook your head. “I'm sorry, Tony, I just... lost my temper.”

He agreed “That happens. He needed to hear... like twelve percent of everything you said.”

"The rest was a bit mean" Natasha said.

You smiled mischievously and he sat down next to you.

“We’ll keep the plan, then?” You asked.

Natasha nodded. “Apparently yes. It’s a good plan.”

“So, what were you talking about?” Tony asked and you gave Nat a serious look, pleading with your eyes for her not to say anything. She gave you a mischievous smile, but remained silent.

“Remember what I said about doing things I can't control?” You asked once again sticking to the truth.

He nodded.

“Stephen promised to help me. He said there might be a way to control it.

“That's great” He said seeming a bit confused “I didn't know you were talking after... everything that happened.”

You smiled “Stephen is a nice guy.”

“And he is a wizard” Natasha completed.

“Sorcerer” Tony corrected her.

“Is there a difference?”

“I think he prefers the term master of the mystic arts, but sorcerer works too.” You said.

Natasha stared at you with a smile “His goatee is old-fashioned”

“Come on, we're facial hair bros” Tony said indignantly.

“I think this is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard” Natasha said getting up. “Anyway, say hi for me when you see him” She said winking and leaving.

Tony looked at you noticing you were staring at him. “What is it?”

You smiled. “I love you” You said hugging him tight. “You are the most important person for me in this world.”

He wrapped you in his arms a bit surprised with the declaration of love. “Then promise me you will never leave.”

You sighed heavily “I promise.”

You laid there cuddled with him and for a second Stephen crossed your mind and you wondered if your relationship with him, not that it was exactly a relationship, perhaps not yet, but your clearly wanted it to be. Anyway, you wondered if Tony would approve. His approval was very important to you because, as you said to him, he was the only one that mattered to you.

…

You were distracted with your chores when the doorbell rang. You answered and Pepper stood at the doorway smiling shyly.

“Hey, are you busy? I can come back later.”

“No. Come in.” You said. She looked apprehensive. “Is everything okay, Pepper?”

She smiled looking around your apartment. “Ah it's so beautiful here now that you put all your stuff. I helped Tony decorate.”

You closed the door “A feminine touch is always nice”

“Yeah, I contained a bit of Tony's extravagances too.”

You gestured towards the sofa. “Thank you for that. Well, sit, please.”

She sat down shyly and you waited for her to say why she was there.

She sighed “Thank you for saying those things earlier today.”

You were surprised.

“I wish I had the courage to say it myself many times, but I'm relieved someone did.” She looked away. “I sleep with Tony every night and I saw what that whole situation did to him. What fighting Thanos, using that gauntlet did to him.”

You nodded “Someone needed to put Rogers in his place.”

She agreed. “Tony suffered a lot from everything that happened, it was very difficult.”

“I know, I... I saw everything Pepper, I suffered from afar for everything that happened and I really wanted to be on his side, I really wanted to be able to say that he was right.”

Your eyes filled with tears that you wiped away.

“You said the other day that coming here was a mistake, but I don't agree. You were the best thing that ever happened to Tony. He needed a friend. He has Rhodes, but it’s not the same.”

You smirked. “Second best thing that happened to him, then. You are everything to him Pepper. You, Rhodes and Happy were the ones who kept him in line, you're the people who never turned their backs on him.”

She nodded. “He loves you very much” She said also getting emotional. “He cares about you, I care about you. You are very important to us. You are part of our family now.”

You shook your head “I know.”

“Tony doesn't think he needs it, but he needs us to take care of him. We are all he has and he is all we have”

…

It was 8 pm and you were ready to leave but you stopped thinking about what you would say to Tony. When he was home, he knew about everything, Friday kept him informed of who was coming and going and that made you rethink the idea of ​​going out by conventional means, but it was too late and you could see Stephen's car parked in front of the tower.

You took a deep breath and went down hoping not to bump at anyone on the way, but as you approached the exit, you saw Tony parking and getting out of the car with Pepper at his side. You watched as Stephen got out of the car and greeted him. 

“I'm sorry to inform you, but I’m not working today. Schedule an appointment with Ms. Potts.” Tony said and then looked at Stephen from head to toe. “It's even weirder to see you dressed like a normal guy, I thought you only wore your monk clothes” Tony said and as you approached  he noted you.

You were wearing a reasonably simple black dress, totally normal, but you still feared what he might think.

“I invited Y/n to dinner. I hope you don't mind” Stephen said ignoring Tony's provocations completely. “Hi, Pepper.”

"Hi Stephen" She replied, smiling.

Tony greeted you with a kiss on your cheek and then turned to look at Stephen. “I'm glad you mentioned it, because I...”

“He doesn't mind at all.” Pepper said answering for him. “Have a great dinner.”

Tony gave up on his argument and the two left, entering the Tower.

Stephen and You looked at each other laughing softly. “Are you sure this is the guy you love?”  He asked teasing you while opening the car door.

"Yes, I do" You said, smiling as you walked in. He turned around, started the engine and drove fast through town.

You had dinner at a beautiful Italian restaurant. Stephen looked even more handsome than the last time you saw him. You loved seeing him in a suit.

"Tony will ask questions" You said, sighing.

“Like everything else, Stark seems to think that you are also his property” Stephen replied looking at the drinks catalogue. You thought you felt a bit of jealousy in his voice, but you also could have imagined it.

“He feels responsible for me and I like having him around taking care of me. I've never had anyone to do that.”

He nodded with a smirk then called the waiter and ordered a shot of whiskey.

“What are you going to tell him if he asks about us.”

You thought for a moment. “I don't know what to say, but it won't take Tony long to figure it out by himself.”

He smirked. “The truth is always a good idea.”

The waiter brought his drink and a bottle of water for you. “Are you ready to order, sir.”

“No, not at the moment.” Stephan replied and the waiter nodded leaving you alone.

“Would it be so absurd to tell the truth?”  He asked and only then you realized how much he wanted that. He wanted Tony to know about it.

“No”

He smiled. “Tell him what you think is best, he will believe anything you say.”

You nodded and he took a sip of his drink and stared at you with those blue eyes seeming to pondering his next words. “Potts seems to handle the situation so naturally.”

“What situation?”

“That romance between you and Tony.”

You smiled. “She came to my apartment today to thank me for defending Tony. She said he needs people to take care of him. I think that proves that she's really okay with our relationship.”

Stephen seemed incredulous “And what did you have to defend him from?”

You sighed. “Not what. Whom. Steve Rogers.”

“Oh, are they fighting again?”

You shrugged. “There is a mission to solve. A madman with psychosomatic weapons made from the Mind Stone. It turns out that this guy is only alive because Rogers faltered and everything that came after, the Sokovia accords, was a consequence of that mistake.”

Stephen shook his head. “I remember all the news at the time, I was still working at the hospital in Manhattan.”

“Please don't tell me you sided with Rogers.”

He denied it. “Both sides seemed wrong at the time.”

You strongly disagreed, but didn't say so.

“Tony asked me to help him find these guy. I found them in Ukraine. We will attack the location and take the weapons. Tony and I put together the plan with the information I got, but Rogers didn't seem to trust my abilities and I ended up losing my temper and saying some things he needed to hear for many years.”

Stephen frowned. “You said we”

“What? Did you hear what I said?”

He nodded “You put Rogers in his place” He said impatiently. “Is it serious that Stark is going to put you in the field on a mission with psychosomatic weapons?”

You blinked surprised with his annoyance. And the way he put it made you falter. “I... haven't asked him yet, but…”

He sighed in relief. “I'll speak to him personally so he won't let you go.”

“Stephen!”

“Listen, I know you feel you can do this and that's what you want, but it's too dangerous and you need training. We barely know how to deal with these skills, imagine in a battle!”

Part of you was ecstatic that he had referred to the situation using "we", indicating that he felt responsible for you, but you strongly disagreed. “I need to help Tony”

“If you want to help him the best way to do it is in the safety of the Tower and not in the field where he will be worried about you and may make mistakes for not being focused on the mission.”

When he put it like that it seemed too obvious. You went silent.

He extended his hand across the table and you took it. “At some point you will become an important part of the Avengers. Your skills can be of extreme help to them, but right now you need to focus on learning to control them.”

I nodded “You're right, I'm being naive.”

He denied “No, you are thinking of defending him as you did when he argued with Rogers, but Stark knows how to take care of himself, I saw him fighting, he is very good.”

You nodded and then he smiled trying to change the subject.

“What happened earlier today, you were having difficulty concentrating, left your mind open and vulnerable for a long time.”

You blushed –“I'm sorry, I don't know how I did that.”

He smiles “You don't have to apologize. I'm glad it happened to me.”

You smiled at him a little sheepishly.

“But it could be very dangerous if in my place it was someone who wanted to harm you, so I suggest we work on that.”

“I don't know how to control it. I didn't do these things before.”

He looked interested “Tell me how this all started.” You thought for a moment trying to remember “They were thoughts. I dreamed sometimes, I could hear things that happened, but they were just suggestions, but it was enough for me to know it was real because I could feel it.” You shook your head “I don’t know how to explain”

"Is that how you made the decision to come here to find Stark?"

You nodded.

“And when did it start to change? To evolve.”

“When I got to NY, I...”

He waited watching you with those suggestive eyes.

“I didn't get the reception I thought I would. Everyone was worried when I arrived, some of them wanted me to come home. Only Tony, Pepper and Natasha stayed by my side, but I still felt like a fish out of water. I felt alone and Thor was all over the place with all that agonizing sadness.” You sighed.

"Keep going" he said.

“His sadness implied an absence...”

Stephen seemed uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation.

“I started thinking too much about Loki. If all this was real, these people, I wanted him to be there, for him to be real for me. But he was dead. Killed by Thanos or so we thought.”

Stephen understood “It was your first mind connection. With Loki.”

“I didn't realize what I was doing. It wasn’t intentional.”

Stephen's discomfort implied a jealousy that was strange and new to you. He barely mentioned Loki's name  “And so he answered. How?”

“ You felt your face blush “He came to me first in my dreams and one night he was in my room. It was the first time I saw him.”

Stephen sighed looking around, called the waiter and turned back to you. “Ready to order?”

You agreed and you ordered your food. You weren't really hungry.

“It's possible that your abilities were suppressed by the environment you lived in. Your parents house was hostile, I imagine, once you decided to leave it all behind and just ran away.”

You nodded, uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation but knowing that at some point it would have to come out.

Stephen soon realized that you didn't want to talk about it and moved on “But once you moved away from the environment that oppressed you your abilities began to expand immeasurably because there was no longer a barrier blocking it’s development, on the contrary, you said that Thor it made you think of Loki, so he was a trigger.”

“But then it kept increasing” You said still confused and trying to understand everything he was explaining to you. “With Loki's presence the visions began and now this...”

Stephen sighed. “Well, the stimulation with Loki around have also increased” He said against his will “The presence of Loki, your sudden relationship with him... I believe that what we are seeing is only a fraction of your capabilities and that they will increase a lot more.”

“My sudden relationship with Loki.” You repeated slight offended.

He grimaced. "It wasn’t exactly a healthy thing."

“Why not?” You asked still not understanding.

“Oh sorry, I thought it was implied in my face of disgust the whole time…”

“It's as natural as any other relationship...”

“With Loki? The god of mischief? Literally  the father of lies…”

You could barely answer and he realized he had overreacted so he just stopped talking.

“It wasn't sudden. I've always been drawn to Loki.”

He agreed sighing “I'm sorry, I shouldn't have spoken like that.”

You agreed and went back to the subject that really mattered. “I'm afraid of these skills, Stephen.”

“You need to learn to have control over them” He said understanding that you were upset “With the right direction there is nothing to fear.”

“Will you teach me?”

He smiled proudly. The idea seemed to amuse him, but he denied it. “Wong would be a better teacher, he has experience and discipline.”

You hesitated a bit “I don't know if it's a good idea, Wong is... too serious.”

Stephen let out a small laugh. “Maybe this is what you need. You need to take this issue more seriously.”

You nodded “I don't understand why I have this... thing. No one in my family does these things. They are normal people. Boring people.”

“Magic, contrary to all the bullshit we see in pop culture, is not hereditary, it is an individual condition that develops in evolved minds.”

“I don't do magic, Stephen.”

“You’re sure?”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh sure, I'll become the next Sorcerer Supreme.”

He smiled  “The Ancient One would have liked you. And she would be the best mentor you could ever dream of having. She taught me everything I know.”

You sighed knowing that it hurt him to think about his mentor. “I'm sorry you lost her. I’m sorry it was too soon.”

He nodded “She told me that she saw all the possibilities of my future. I wonder if she foresaw the things I did and everything that happened after.”

You held his hand “You and Tony saved the world. You are a hero, Doctor Strange.”

He smiled but seemed to disagree “Many people fought that day to save the world.”

“But it was you and Tony who made everything work.”

He agreed in disagree apparently.

You had dinner and got back in the car, Stephen pulled you in for a kiss before starting the engine and driving back to the Tower.

He stopped in front of the entrance and you stared at him confused.

“Won't you come in?”

He denied “I'd rather not risk bumping on Stark again.”

You pulled him to your lips, thrusting your tongue into his mouth in an extremely sexual kiss that demonstrated how much you wanted him.

He smiled cocky. “Wait for me upstairs.”

You smiled in agreement. You went up in the elevator, went straight to your apartment and found Tony waiting for you on the sofa.

He smiled. “I was worried, I needed to see you before bed.”

You closed the door and went to him sitting next to him “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything is fine. I just... with everything that happened I think I am traumatized. Knowing you're not in the tower made me anxious, that's all.”

“I'm fine, you don't have to worry about me all the time, Tony. I don’t want to be a burden.”

He scowled "You only have me to worry about you, I need to make this right. And don’t ever say that again. You are not a burden"

You smiled reassuringly. “Pepper was here this afternoon. She came to thank me for what I said to Rogers.”

He looked surprised. “Really?”

“She cares about you, I care about you and you care about me. I guess that means it's normal to worry about the people we love. We are family, Tony.”

He agreed. “Yeah, you’re right, but let's face it you scared me a few times, like the last few weeks.

You nodded “ I'm sorry.”

“That's okay. Let’s try to put a stone on it.”

You smiled and he hesitated looking curious “But then... going out to dinner with Doctor Strange... I have to admit that it surprised me.”

You smiled trying to sound as casual as possible “He wanted to talk about my skills. He wants Wong to help me to learn more about them. That’s all.”

Tony agreed “That's good. It’s a really good idea.  Will you?”

“I need too.” You agreed trying not to show how nervous you were. There would be no way to explain if Stephen opened a portal and entered there and considering that the Sanctum was not that far away and Stephen drove very fast, this could happen at any moment.

Tony sighed “I like to see you living in this apartment, doing your thing, having friends. I want you to feel well here, it's your home.”

“I know. I will never be able to thank you enough for everything you did for me.”

He got up. “ Just promise me you’ll stay around. You won’t leave. That’s all that matters.”

You smiled “I won’t go anywhere, I promise.”

He smiled then got up “I'll let you rest, now. Goodnight, darling.”

You hugged him tight, stronger than the casual moment asked and he noticed and squeezed you in his arms too. “I Love you, Tony. Good night.”

You  stood there as he left and closed the door. You loved him so much that your chest hurt, You had never loved anyone the way you loved Tony.

You turned Your attention back to the moment and went to your room. You went to the closet and took off your clothes, leaving only your lingerie and you smiled when you heard the soft squeak of the portal opening in the bedroom. You went to him and leaned against the wall, he came to you, both hands on your face and he kissed you deeply and you hold him by the nape of his neck and he pulled you to his lap, your legs wrapped around his hips and he put you on your sideboard leaning against the wall

"I thought you weren't coming" You said into his lips.

He kissed you smiling on your lips “How could I not to come after that kiss?”

You tugged on his suit to get rid of it and he unbuttoned his shirt and took it off. You caressed his bare chest, your lips moved down to his neck and shoulder and you bit down gently there.

He unfastened your bra and took it off and cupped your breast in his hand squeezing gently as his lips trailed down your neck.

"Tony was here a minute before you arrived." Your legs tightened around him, yearning for his touch.

He gently lowered your panties.

“I don't want to talk about Tony Stark right now” He said taking your panties off and then he kissed you again tasting your lips slowly.

“Do you think he would mind if he knew about us?” You asked on his lips.

He brought his hand to the middle of your legs and stroked there gently and then he thrust a finger inside you slowly moving it back and forth.

“ Right now, I really don't care” He said lowly forcing his finger and then put another one penetrating slowly.

You moaned squirming in his hand as he watched you melt away in pleasure. He smiled and kissed you and then picked you up and put you on the bed and spread your legs further with his hands. His lips trailed down your stomach to the inside of your thigh and dipped between your legs where he licked and sucked masterfully, his beard brushing your skin there and the feeling was so good,  you could barely contain yourself.

You moaned loudly holding his hair and he continued and your legs shook with the uncontrollable pleasure he gave you. You pulled Stephen back to your lips and he kissed you smiling while turning his fingers inside you to touch exactly the perfect spot he knew your loved.

“Stephen...”

He penetrated two fingers while stroking your clit with circular gestures of his thumb and you squirmed in his hand and he smiled smugly, completed satisfied of seeing you melting beneath him.

He got up taking off his pants and underwear and came back between your legs making way with his waist. His cock already totally hard, he caressed it for a second and your eyes didn't leave him. He put his fingers on you again feeling all your wetness and then put only the tip on your entrance, hesitating, analyzing, provocating you.

“Stephen…”

He forced himself to enter you with a single thrust and you moaned loudly squirming under him feeling all his huge cock inside you. He leaned back on the mattress and fucked you hard and fast understanding that was the way you liked it.

...

You woke up in the middle of the night and Stephen was sleeping beside you on your bed. You stood there watching him sleep. There was no reason to deny it, You were completely in love with him. He was perfect in everything. The man was a god of sex. He had made your cum three time only in that night.

You got up and dressed your hobby and left the room. You were heading towards the kitchen when you noticed something in the living room and screamed scared.

“It's okay, it's me.” He said leaving the meditation position in which he was. Floating.

“What the hell are you doing?” You asked staring at his scary astral form. He looked like a ghost.

“Meditating... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you.”

You stared at him in disbelief. “You're sleeping... how do you do that?”

He smiled. “My body needs to sleep, my mind on the other hand needs to stay active, I like to enjoy the night.”

"That's weird" You said.

“I shouldn't do that here, you're right…”

“It's okay” You smiled looking at him.

“Give me a second, I'll be right back” He said disappearing and you went to the kitchen to drink water. You heard the door opening and he appeared with a sleepy face smiling “That's better.”

He walked over and kissed you softly on the lips.

As you had completely lost sleep you decided to put the kettle on to boil and make some tea.

"Your mind also needs to rest" You said, scolding him.

He agreed “I don't do this every night, well most nights.”

You sighed understanding that there was no point in arguing “You almost scared me to death.”

He sighed leaning in the counter and then changed the subject “You asked me before if Tony would mind if he knew we were together…” He sat on the counter watching you prepare the tea. “Would you like him to know?”

“I'm tired of secrets, Stephen” You said “I’m tired of doing things in secret thinking about what they would say if they knew, but as much as I don't want to care about what everyone has to say...

“You care for what Tony has to say.”

You nodded “He's not just anyone.”

Stephen thanked you when you handed him the cup of tea.

“I don't know what we're doing Stephen, I don't know where you want to go with this, but... you know I'm in love with you and I don't want to have to keep hiding.”

“There is no need to hide it” He looked at you seriously “When you left the Sanctum that day, Wong asked me if I was sure about what I was doing … about you”

“And what did you say”

He cupped your face and pulled you closer to him “That I'm in love with you, that all the things that happened brought us together and that I feel like you're the only person who understands what I'm going through since...”

“I know.”

He smiled “I understand that you have doubts about us, but I don't. Let them know.”

You smiled sipping your tea.

“Do you think Stark would mind?” He seemed concerned about your answer. He was beginning to understand that Tony had a huge influence on you.

“I think Tony wants to see me happy. He's already worried about me too much.

Stephen nodded and then chuckled “Romanoff hinted a while back that we'd have something, Stark wasn't too happy about the idea.”

“When did she say that?”

“When we were trying to rescue you from him.”

You nodded “It's impossible to fool Natasha, she realizes things even before we do. She knows I was going to have dinner with you yesterday.”

He agreed.

You put your empty cup in the counter “I need you to tell me what to do, I... I don't know how to handle any of this alone.”

He hugged you resting his head on your chest and you stroked his hair. You  held his head and kissed him sweetly on the lips. He smiled at you “You'll be fine and you don't have to do anything alone, never again.”

Reblog please! Leave a comment if you liked it. Interact! I will love to read all of your comments and opinions. It inspires me to keep writing!

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[galaxycunt]

Singing The Same Dream

shuggy thoughts Thursday

1k lil fic hehe

He had a good buzz going, a hand floating to scare the barmaid, endless liquor flowing, good times. Buggy would be lying if he wasn’t a man who recollects when he’s drunk, and a bad feeling about this night made his fingers twitch with anxiety.

Behind him the door swung open, loud chattering of a group of men bounced off the walls. This was good, he needed a distraction. He glanced over his shoulder to watch the men pile in, pirates. Even better.

”Yo, more rum over here! Before these fucks drink it all!”

“Buggy?”

He turned, limbs nearly falling to pieces to the floor. It was him, he didn’t fucking need this right now. Swiveling in his stool, he whipped back to face the bar.

”It really is you!” a hand slapped him hard on the back, “you’re looking good.”

”Yeah, well, you look like shit.”

He only laughed, “getting older I guess.”

Red-haired Shanks. He looked the same, same stupid hat, same stupid smile on his face.

”What you’re drinking, old friend?”

Time to make lemonade, “top shelf only.”

Shanks shrugged, ordering a bottle to share. Buggy swiped it as soon as it hit the counter, chugging the bottle to the last drop.

”Thanks for the free drink, shithead,” he said getting up to leave.

“Whoa, wait a minute. I just got here,” Shanks said tugging on his sleeve, “please, stay a little bit.”

Buggy shrugged him off, “it’s been how long now? 15 years?”

He smiled, “something like that.”

He knew this was a bad idea, but those old memories flooded back to him. His smile, his eyes, his lips. Buggy’s heart won out over his brain.

”Alright. Talk.”

Shanks smiled a little nervously, like he used to, “I’m not sure what I’m supposed to say.”

”Any good hauls lately?” Buggy said sarcastically.

“A little of this, a little of that,” he paused, “wait do you really wanna know?”

Buggy only glared.

So he told him, the treasure he found, a little village he liked to visit when he could, animated about everything the drunker he became. Shanks was living the dream life they wanted for themselves, he supposed he did too. Captains going their own way.

“God, Bug I remember what Roger used to say about you-“

”-don’t tell me that shit, man.”

”Why not?”

He frowned, “I don’t wanna hear this shit, bragging like a jackass.”

”Oh.”

Shank looked down at his drink, thinking of the right things to say. Buggy was reminded of the night they first kissed, how stupid it all was. Two lonely boys on a pirate ship with no one else their age in sight.

”It’s too loud in here, see ya shitface.”

Shanks followed Buggy out, “yeah you’re right. Fresh air would be nice!”

”I wanna be alone, moron!”

”But why?”

Buggy looked at the people passing by, how embarrassing. He was a fucking pirate captain, for god’s sake. So he walked toward the shore, not sure of where to go else with Shanks following him.

He was in love with the guy, so sure that Shanks was just bored and he was there. That was his life, being at the right place at the right time. He wasn’t made for love, getting what scraps anyone else wanted to give him.

The moon was beautiful and bright, dark waves crashed against white sand. Buggy kicked a rock at his feet, holding his breath for Shanks to say something.

”Why are you here, man?”

They locked eyes, “I didn’t mean to. But I’m glad we bumped into each other.”

”Is that right?”

”Yes,” he said quickly, “a welcome surprise.”

If he didn’t know better, Shanks looked flushed.

”Remember back in the day, that night on the island? I think the moon was just as big.”

Buggy closed his eyes, “yeah, I remember.”

”You…I think that night played in my mind for three weeks straight.”

”We were pretty young and dumb, huh?”

Shanks laughed, “yeah. We were, weren’t we? It was..nice, wasn’t it?”

It was before Roger died, Buggy braver than he ever been before, kissed his best friend. And he kissed him back. As large of a ship it was, it was hard to find the time to hide more kisses. Like two magnets, they always found each other’s lips.

Buggy used to worry that anytime they docked, Shanks would go off to find someone better looking to kiss. He never did, their first time together was in a cave they found on an island. The moon shone so bright, he looked like an angel.

Now they were drunk saps, the last remaining shred of dignity was screaming at Buggy to leave. Instead he sat in the cool sand, fingers tracing patterns.

”You’re a captain now, right?”

”Yeah.”

Shanks sat next to him, “I’m glad to hear it. I really am.”

Slowly his hand inched closer to him, fingers linking together. Buggy gulped, he couldn’t let this happen again. But why not? Why not?

”I’m sure there’s far more interesting men out there for you.”

Shanks shook his head, leaning closer. His breath smelled like liquor, this was a mistake. Buggy’s mind wrestled with a decision, a drunk kiss didn’t mean a thing. Even if it was 15 years overdue.

Shanks removed his hat, lips hovering over Buggy’s, “you were my best friend, you know?”

”I think I’m still in love with you,” he whispered.

Shanks exhaled deeply, a wide grin on his face. Buggy figured he was always going to be in love with him.

The kiss tasted bittersweet, Buggy’s other hand clutching the sand, letting it slip between his fingers as Shanks’s tongue slipped between his lips. It was bliss, just like every other time. He felt his heart in this throat, the wind knocked out of him.

”I gotta go.”

Buggy scrambled up as quickly as he could, tears burning hot. Shanks called out after him, words fading away.

He felt so stupid, he always so stupid. Rushing to his ship, he trembled as he locked the cabin door behind him.

They were drunk, of course they were. It wasn’t real, it never was. Shanks only got what he wanted, regardless of what Buggy felt about it.

Never again.

[theonethatyaks93]

Finally Talking About Dark Pinky (Day 7 of Pinky Week)

Guess who showed up finally!

Yep, you read that title correctly. No, this isn't some belated April Fool's Day prank. Happy Dark Pinky Thursday to all my fellow evil mice enjoyers and welcome to the final installment of Pinky Week!! This has completely gone off the rails and I apologize for the extensive delays and unkept promises; I was just so tired and I required a lot of breaks. So, to thank everyone who's been with me, I decided to make my last post for Pinky Week a tribute to the fans! Get ready, because things are going to get interesting.

4/6/23- Dark Pinky Discussion/Analysis: A popular fandom character, Dark Pinky is the character you go to if you're looking for the Animaniacs/Pinky and the Brain fandom's official Tumblr sexyman. Gaining popularity in 2020 due to Dark Pinky Thursdays popping up as a meme, the homicidal and delightfully malevolent mouse has made his presence very well known on a variety of sites. And yes, I definitely have fallen to all the art and fanfiction I've seen of him. He's a great character, has a lot of potential for fanfiction, and is delightfully evil with a dark, twisted sense of humor (at least that's what I've taken from him). He's a recent obsession of mine and I'm glad to finally admit that I really do like him. I'm also glad to be contributing to his every growing fanbase. This essay will trace Dark Pinky's history, how he became so popular, and what he brings to the overall Pinky and The Brain community. And yes, I'll be mentioning Future Brain a few times since that is part of the story.

Humble Origins (Pinky and The Brain Comic Issues #1 and #24):

You might be surprised to realize but originally, Dark Pinky was more of a comedic villain rather than an outright malicious one. In fact, his plans were often times very silly and his tendency to break into evil laughter was more funny than menacing. He'd make his grand debut in Issue #1 of the Pinky and The Brain comics, being the one who ruled the alternate superhero universe Pinky and Brain find themselves in. At first, he doesn't reveal himself, rather he uses Dark Brain as a cover-up. But from the moment he appears, we get a sense of how different he is when compared to the original Pinky. Dark Pinky wears purple armor with gloves and pretty awesome spikes on his shoulders; he also has a long purple cape. The tufts of fur on his head are more straight and less curled, he has fangs, and wears a metal headpiece that (I believe) allows him to read minds. He still retains the iconic verbal tics that Pinky has and he also does an evil laugh after nearly everything he says. His personality is similar to Pinky, but with a slightly more villainous side. He finds pleasure in creating dastardly plans, showing the power and control he has, and relinquishes in the suffering he brings to others. However, he remains excitable, gets distracted by inane things, and his plans are more comical when compared to how the fandom would shape him to be. Dark Pinky does plan on murdering both Pinky and Brain but is defeated after he reads Pinky's mind and finds "horrifying imagery." He eventually returns in Issue #24 where he ends up trying to take over via public broadcasting. He's now bent on revenge and has a group of minions (in hilarious purple costumes) at his behest. He even calls upon the help of Poison Billie (another semi-popular character from this universe), and the two look like they may succeed. Eventually, Brain and Pinky do manage to defeat Dark Pinky and Poison Billie once again, this time seemingly for good. Dark Pinky's plan in this issue is very ridiculous and isn't scary in the slightest. It's almost intriguing on how he started out as such a comical villain before a few people decided to make him a little more unique. Dark Pinky remains to this day a comic exclusive character, never appearing in any of the T.V shows or even getting a mention in the series. The comics have also been questioned for the canonicity due to a few factors. However, Dark Pinky wouldn't be forgotten for long. Things only get weirder from here.

Dark Pinky and the Tumblr Sexyman Trope:

Now we're getting to the point where we must discuss the fandom. But before we do that, let's talk about the thing that made him famous in the first place: the Tumblr Sexyman craze. In the early 2010's after the release of the film The Lorax, a group of adolescent girls became attached to the character of The Once-ler, but not for his personality, rather for his appearance. The trend started up on Tumblr and began to grow in popularity to massive degrees. And this fandom was weird to say the least. People shipped the Once-ler with himself or alternate versions of himself and he became known as the first official Tumblr sexyman. However, as the years passed, more and more characters were added to the collection of Tumblr sexymen. Most of them had a common theme: tall, white, baddie/emo, often seen in suits. Others such as Sans from Undertale were a little different but still contained a few typical tropes. To be considered a sexyman, a character needed to showcase at least one or two of these traits plus have a dedicated following with a lot of fanart and/or fanfiction. They also can be considered conventionally unattractive or non-human. After the introduction of the Tumblr sexyman, many fandoms tried their best to find a perfect match for the rising phenomenon. And luckily, the Animaniacs/PaTB fandom had their candidate. While Pinky Suavo also caught on very quickly and was more well-known for his episode, Dark Pinky seemed to be the most accurate to the previously established tropes, being tall, white, evil, wearing purple armor, having a mysterious past, and sporting a super cool design. The potential for him was rabid and he seemed to check off all the boxes perfectly. It did take a while for people to find him, considering the comics are so obscure, but eventually Dark Pinky would hit the fandom in a way previously not though of before. Nobody would realize the impact this character would have. Until it was too late.

Dark Pinky is a Sensation (And how the fandom changed him):

Art featured below is by the incredibly talented @wimsiecal And if you're perchance reading this, I just want to tell you that your art is amazing and you have made me obsessed with Dark Pinky to an unhealthy degree!!! :) Seriously please go follow them if you haven't already, I'm begging you!!

After the fandom discovered Dark Pinky from the depths of the comic book series, his popularity skyrocketed, especially after the 2020 fandom revival. He quickly became known as the Pinky and The Brain Tumblr sexyman and that hasn't changed since, though Pinky Suavo has joined him. Dark Pinky fanart, fanfiction, and various other forms of media became extremely sought after and many posts would get thousands upon thousands of views/likes. Despite never appearing in the series, fans of Dark Pinky's would often point out moments where Pinky acted like his evil counterpart, some even editing screenshots to have Pinky appear like him. However, since Dark Pinky only appeared in two comics, the fans naturally had to get creative with him. Many fans have completely changed his character, altering his appearance every so slightly, or expanding on his past and personality. Dark Pinky's fan design was only a tad bit different. He was given sharper edges, different outfits in various shades of purple and black, a more detailed helmet, and he even appeared without the whole getup. Dark Pinky's design without armor or the helmet was entirely made up by fans. Here, he has the same body as Pinky but with scars (including a super cool one over his eye), dark eye shadow, and black painted nails. Dark Pinky's personality was also altered, making him a legitimate threat and an actual evil villain. He kills, his grip on the world is ruthless, he treats his servants like crap, and he shows no mercy to anyone. His comical plots from the comics are no more as he's become kind of scary and menacing. You don't want to mess with him. Yes he does have a sense of humor, but it's often twisted or at the expense of others. Dark Pinky still on occasion does an evil laugh or has a verbal tic but it's usually when he's upset. Some fans have given him a soft side; some of which include his feminine urges remaining intact and that he has a fondness for cheese. But be careful. In a few variations from people in the community, Brain is mysteriously absent. Mentioning Brain to Dark Pinky in those universes will often cause him to go into an insane rage. These fun and interesting pieces that were added to Dark Pinky not only make him more interesting, but add to his status as a Tumblr sexyman. These changes aren't technically canon, but they're arguably better since they make Dark Pinky stand out. It is quite strange to see him change from a comical antagonist to a semi-serious villain worth being feared, but it was much appreciated.

Dark Pinky Gets a Love Interest and an AU (Dark Future Ship/Fan-made Universes):

For the longest time, Dark Pinky didn't have a love interest of any kind. Sure, if you wanted to be shunned you could ship him with Poison Billie (please don't), but Brinky was the name of the game. The ship between Pinky and Brain was, and still is, incredibly popular among fans, after it gained popularity in the late 2000's and early 2010's. And of course when Dark Pinky got popular, he needed someone to be paired with. For a while, he would be shipped with just regular Brain or a fan-made evil version of Brain if creativity was present. Luckily, the fans finally got their perfect match when the Animaniacs reboot came out. In episode 9, the character of Future Brain was created and fans immediately compared him to Dark Pinky. Their color schemes were similar with both mice being seen in purple. Future Brain had a scar, robotic hand, and half of his face was robotic, all of which fit into Dark Pinky's universe very well. The hints that Future Brain was betrayed by Pinky also had many theorizing that he came from a future ruled by Dark Pinky, connecting the two together even more. It wasn't long before Future Brain and Dark Pinky ship fanart and fanfiction began popping up everywhere. Since the duo had very similar esthetics, they could be drawn together easily. The story potential was also very high as well. Dark Pinky and Future Brain dominated (pun intended) the fanbase and soon became seen as an alternate ship to Brinky. But while Brinky was healthy and cute, Dark Future (Often called the official ship name) was toxic and awkward. Some people portrayed them as an evil couple ruling the world together, while others painted their relationship in a negative light, where Dark Pinky was abusive and manipulative. It depended solely on what person was developing the story. Future Brain was also added to the quickly developing Dark Pinky alternate universe which has been shown via the extremely popular ask blog askdarkpinky. Featuring beautiful fanart and a darkly humorous tone, this blog is a must-view for any Dark Pinky fan. It created an expansive universe with lore, locations, and alternate versions of popular characters. Snowball remains consistent in the flashback sequences, aligning with his canon character exactly. Billie retains a majority of elements from Poison Billie minus the orange hair, including the plant themed outfit. Julia has a new look with a lab coat and goggles. She's works for Dark Pinky, making all of his technology. Brain is noticeably absent from this universe, with only hints to his possible location. It's also implied that this is in fact Future Brain and that he might be doing something. Dark Pinky goes crazy when Brain is brought up and refuses to hear anything about him. This drama and conflict is so interesting. The creation of this ship and various alternate universes only increased Dark Pinky's popularity and now, he stands as a cornerstone of the Pinky and The Brain fanbase.

Conclusion: Though Pinky himself is a beloved character, Dark Pinky stands on his own as a fandom favorite. From his design to his personality and potential, he fits the Tumblr sexyman ideology to near perfection. The fans have shaped this character and have made him stand apart from the rest. Sure, he's evil and doesn't treat things with care, but he's a good character. It's really spectacular that people in the community were able to turn Dark Pinky from a villain that existed mainly for comedy to a threatening presence with an un-hinged mindset. The fans are truly to thank for bringing Dark Pinky into greatness and there's hope that he can remain relevant and continue to entertain people (and make people question their sanity/sexuality) for a few more years to come.

OMG!! Pinky Week is finally done!! Woo hoo!! I'd like to thank all of you for sticking with me for this long period of time. You have been the thing that's kept me making these. I'll be taking a small break for the next few days and then Brain Week will begin! I can assure you guys that Brain Week will not take as long and will be better planned out. I can't wait to begin! Anyways, that's it for Pinky Week! Thank you for reading and have a great day/night! Happy (possibly belated) Dark Pinky Thursday to everyone!! Narf!

[pitaficionado]

Pit Worship III

For most of the following week, I found myself in an inner struggle that would not abate. Each time I thought of Thursday getting closer, my resolve wavered; I wondered if I would actually go through with it again or if last week’s encounter would stay a one-time indulgence. My phone seemed to burn in my pocket, his number saved but untouched, a silent invitation waiting to be answered.

When I was with my husband, things felt different than before. Even as I tried to stay present, flashes of last Thursday would creep in—the roughness of the stud's voice, the thrill of his touch, the tension of those forbidden moments. Guilt mingled with excitement, creating an odd mix of emotions I couldn’t shake. I wanted to reconnect with my husband, to feel that closeness we’d shared for so long, yet my mind kept drifting, my body still feeling the lingering effects of the secret I carried.

Ironically, my lovemaking with my husband became more intense than ever. Every touch, every kiss felt heightened, as my mind kept drifting back to the stud’s scent, the raw power of his body, and the thrill of being with him. It was as if that forbidden memory fueled my passion, igniting something primal within me that I hadn’t felt in a long time. My husband must have noticed, responding to the newfound intensity, pulling me closer, matching the urgency I couldn’t contain. Yet, as much as I was physically with him, my mind couldn’t help but return to the intoxicating memory of the stud’s pits, his scent lingering in my senses like a hidden secret. I wondered if my husband could sense the distraction, or if he simply thought this was a new spark between us. Either way, I was caught in a web of desire and deception, balancing on the edge between two worlds that felt both thrilling and dangerous.

In those moments of intimate disconnection, my resolve to quench my thirst for the stud grew more resolute. Each time I tried to redirect the passion I felt toward my husband, the contrast between our encounters became painfully clear. The thrill of the stud’s scent, the raw energy of his presence, and the excitement of our secret rendezvous filled my thoughts, igniting a longing I couldn’t ignore. The frustration of unreciprocated desires left me restless, stirring a deeper craving for what I had briefly tasted and desperately wanted to explore further.

On Wednesday night, I stared at my reflection, questioning whether I was ready to cross that line again. In the end, desire won over doubt. I found myself texting him, confirming the time for the next morning. His reply was instant, short and direct, a simple "See you then." The routine of anticipation returned with even greater intensity, knowing what to expect this time—and craving it all the more. By the time Thursday morning arrived, I was ready, anticipation electrifying every nerve. As I waited for him to arrive, the thrill of it all heightened, and I knew that, for better or worse, this secret part of my life was just beginning.

After that second meeting, I quickly surrendered to my desire for the stud and his pits. I coveted every session I could schedule with him, eager to consume every bit of his scent and musk. With every meeting, I felt like he was pulling me deeper into his orbit, the gravity of his presence becoming impossible to resist. While our first couple of encounters had been solely devoted to the intoxicating pleasure of his pits, it wasn’t long before he began introducing me to other practices that expanded the boundaries of my desires. He would casually suggest new things, teasingly guiding me to explore sensations that made my heart race and my cheeks flush. Each time I surrendered to his suggestions, I felt a mix of exhilaration and trepidation; it was as if he was unlocking parts of me I hadn’t known existed.

When the stud casually floated the idea of fucking me in our married bed, I hardly hesitated. His words hung in the air, electrifying the moment, and I was so deeply buried in the crevice of his pits that the suggestion felt like an irresistible command. The scent enveloped me, intoxicating and primal, and in that vulnerable state, my mind raced with possibilities. The thrill of breaking boundaries, of taking this secret to a place that was so intimately mine, sent shivers down my spine.

There was something both exhilarating and dangerous about the notion, a rush that amplified the connection between us. I could almost envision the contrast of his powerful form against the soft sheets of my bed, a collision of worlds that heightened my desire. In that moment, I surrendered completely, swept away by the excitement of what lay ahead, ready to embrace the thrill of living out my fantasies in the most forbidden of settings. It felt like a line had been crossed, and I was eager to see just how far we would go.

After his tantalizing suggestion, the atmosphere between us shifted, thick with unspoken possibilities. I could feel my pulse quicken, heart racing as I considered the audacity of it all. I took a deep breath, inhaling his intoxicating scent once more, letting it fuel my excitement. In a moment of boldness, I nodded, my voice barely a whisper as I replied, “Let’s do it.”

Once we were in the bedroom, the stud wasted no time, pinning me to the bed, his strong hands gripping my wrists as he held me in place. I could feel the heat radiating off his body, the palpable energy making my heart race even faster. He leaned in closer, and I was overwhelmed by the scent of his skin—the heady aroma of his sweat mixed with the lingering notes of his cologne, sending waves of desire coursing through me.

He took his time, teasing me as he moved in and out, ensuring that I was fully aware of every sensation. I felt myself becoming increasingly lost in the moment, every thrust igniting a fire within me. But it was when he shifted his position, raising his arms to flex his biceps that I felt completely undone. The sight of his muscular pits, glistening with sweat, drew me in, consuming my senses. The warmth enveloped me, and I instinctively leaned forward, burying my face deep into the recesses of his pits, inhaling that intoxicating scent that had become my obsession.

For what felt like an eternity, he alternated between powerful thrusts and teasing moments, guiding me to the edge repeatedly. Each time I felt myself getting close, he would flex, showcasing those beautiful pits, coaxing me to surrender completely. The way he dominated the moment, balancing pleasure with teasing restraint, was exhilarating. I felt myself spiraling deeper into bliss, the combination of his strength and scent sending me into a frenzy.

As the climax built within me, I lost track of time, completely absorbed in the experience. The world outside ceased to exist; all that mattered was the intoxicating blend of physical pleasure and the raw, heady aroma of his body. Each moment was a thrilling dance between domination and surrender.

[mutable-manifestation]

The Ghost King (of Miscommunication) Ch. 21

Part 1-12,Part 13,Part 14,Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20

Part 21!

So this kinda got long. I wouldn't be able to fit the explanation part without posting off of my ao3 schedule. Also the chapter would be, like, way longer than the ~2K I've been aiming for.

So! Here's this, and I'm gonna try to post the explanation-scene as a separate chapter on Thursday or Friday. (It'll probably be big on its own anyway).

Info: Self-concept upon death hugely impacts ghost form, and Sam & Tucker expected white hair bc of Danny. So by the time Jazz became a ghost (read: Died) it was just an expectation that white hair and green eyes would be a part of that.

(Danny's own palette swap is an effect of his beliefs about what happens when things burn [white to black] and bleach in heat [black to white - like the flag on the moon]. White hair being associated with stress/death, green eyes because green was all he could see, etc. Just a lot of jumbled, morbid, last-minute thoughts while he was dying combined with pre-existing, subconscious beliefs about life and death.)

Jason's form is his exact form from when he died - minus all the injuries and plus the full-white eyes (not just normal eyes behind a domino mask - I know that varies by version for some robins. This is full-whites. They do still turn green when he's angry tho)

***

Jason only realized he’d been tricked after they finally called it a draw.

For all a snowball fight barely counted as a fight, he certainly felt calmer after getting some of his energy out.

He’d been so distracted enjoying himself he hadn’t even thought of using the chaos to bolt - not that he would have anyway, given he still didn’t know where to find a portal home.

The girl flits in front of him just in time for him to catch his breath.

“Nice to meet you,” She holds out a hand, grin as exuberant as it had been throughout the game - minus the feral tinge of competitiveness.

“I’m Danielle,” she offered as he shook the proffered hand. “But call me Elle - or Dani with an i if you want to mess with someone.”

The mischief on her face at the suggestion made him think she’d done so before.

She almost certainly already knew his name, but not telling her himself would be rude - a death sentence if they really were fae. Still, that she hadn’t prompted him should make it safer. Maybe.

(If the initial kidnapping was permitted by Danny hearing his name then he certainly didn’t hear a prompt from him, but who knows if inaudible whispers count. At least he can see that Danielle’s mouth hasn’t moved)

(Not like he isn’t already kidnapped anyway. What’ll they do, double kidnap him?)

“Jason,” he says as he disengages from the handshake, smiling genuinely despite himself.

(And he meant to smile, he did - he’d read enough stories to know how important being polite to the fae is; one wrong word and you’re 15 ribs shy of a full skeleton. Or a brother shy of a full family. It was half the reason he’d spoken as little as he had - but he hadn’t meant for it to be real)

“I’m sure Danny told you aaaaaall about me already, and yes, I really am that cool.”

Danielle - Elle - breaks Jason out his mental spiral. He just manages to smother his laugh with a cough.

“Ah, the tour actually got kind of off track, so I hadn’t had a chance to mention you yet.”

Elle gasps dramatically, putting both hands over her heart and flopping to the ground at Danny’s proclamation.

“Oh, I am wounded! I am shattered! I am abandoned and unloved!-” Danny laughs “-I am filing a formal complaint! I am requisitioning forms to have my darling emotional support Panther, Palu, moved to the Palace-”

“You- Emotio-WHAT!?” Danny reels back, expression horrified.

Elle floats up to sit a foot off the ground, arms and legs both crossed. She glares at him for about 5 seconds before sticking out her tongue and grinning.

“I’m kidding, you big chicken.”

“She ate my cape made with Actual Stars, Elle.”

Elle laughs at Danny’s clear relief and the following pout. Jason himself fails to suppress a snort.

“Well,” Danny huffs, turning to Wulf. “While these two are busy laughing at my expense, I wanted your opinion on something.”

He gestures to a more distant tree with his eyes, and Wulf follows as he floats away - probably aiming for out of earshot.

Elle abandons her laughter to float upright just in front of him - the floating equivalent of standing, he supposes.

“Anyway, like I said, I’m Elle. Long story short Danny’s ex-arch-nemesis who shall not be named wanted to adopt Danny and handled the ‘no’ really poorly and tried to clone him. I was the only surviving clone, and after trying to kill Danny on said manipulative ex-nemesis’ orders he managed to change my mind about said nemesis, helped stabilize me, and eventually ended up adopting me.” She said, in the most nonchalant manner possible, which, wow, the story really did not call for.

Jason desperately wants to know the long version.

“Sooo…” she drawls, smile gaining a teasing edge, “I guess you can actually just call me big sis.”

She laughs at his suddenly blank expression.

“No? How about ‘best big sister ever?’ Oh! Oh! Or ‘Coolest big sister in the Realms?’ Get it? Cuz ice powers.”

She flits around him as she speaks, wiggling her fingers and loosing a few flakes of snow at the last bit for emphasis, giggling.

Jason isn’t sure how to respond without insulting her somehow.

To any of that, really.

“Never expected to have a baby brother,” she muses, “but then with how readily he adopted me despite my origins I guess it isn’t all that surprising. Especially with you being a halfa and all. We’re really rare, I’m sure you’ve noticed. Or maybe not - you are only like a week old, technically.”

“I’m 22,” he corrects, unbelievingly.

She snorts.

“In human years, maybe.”

And hey. Wow. Jason is not a fan of that.

(Yes, he’s glowing. Yes, he’s visibly de-aged 7 years. No, he has not accepted any of the potential implications that has regarding his human-ness.)

Jason has roughly 100 more questions after her little info-dump than he did before.

Before he can debate risking those rib bones, what can only be one of the infamous ‘eyeballs’ shows up.

It sure is an eyeball, just one giant eye takes up most of its head, but for the thin green outline that connects to the rest of its body - only seen by the matching green of its hands, which themselves bear off-puttingly long claws.

It is also wearing quite possibly the most pretentious robes he has ever laid eyes on.

This coming from someone who grew up watching Brucie Wayne play air headed, carefree rich boy like it was his true calling - the man had a designer collection of dramatic robes to greet unexpected late-evening guests with.

“Phantom.”

“Greg.”

“That is not my name.”

By the terse greetings and short follow-up, this was a common exchange.

The eyeball - Greg, why not - turned its eye on Jason just then.

For all its size, the eye moved just as fast as a normal one. The motion was wrong in some indefinable way; grotesque to see. He did his best not to react, cautious of setting the being off; this one seemed more volatile than those he’d met thus far.

Despite the lack of a facial expression, Jason couldn’t help but feel like he was being sneered at.

Thankfully its attention on him was brief, turning back to address Elle after only a beat.

“If you are quite finished shirking your duties to play in the snow, the Valhallan representative is waiting to speak with you.”

“What??? He isn’t supposed to be here for another hour,” Elle questioned, brown pinched.

“It has been an hour, Phantom.”

He floats to her side to point towards the palace.

“If you would be so kind, I would like to get this over with.”

“Uuuuuuugh,” Elle groans, drifting slowly in that direction despite the apparent distaste, “Can’t you just watch from your lair like Clocky always does?”

“You know very well that matters of exceptional import and tumultuous path selection require personal observation in order to maintain timeline coherency. All royal meetings for-”

“‘-at least the next three weeks fit the criteria.’” Elle makes air quotes as she speaks, turning to face Greg while still floating towards the palace, backwards.

“I know, I know. Blah blah regulation, blah blah timelines, blah blah paperwork. Heard it. Got it. Thanks.” She concludes with an eyeroll, before looking back at him.

“Have fun with the rest of the tour!” she yells, smiling and waving as if she was already a mile away. “Make sure Danny shows you the map rooms!”

And then she turns and zooms away.

He can sense the faintest bit of rage coming from Greg, and he barely hears the muttered ‘Insufferable abomination’ before the…guy?...eye… follows suit.

He watches until the eye disappears into the building.

At which point he hears a small sigh from beside him.

He nearly jumps out of his skin in startlement, whipping his head around to find Danny floating placidly by his side, saluting into the distance.

“Good luck, Elle,” he says mournfully, “Rip to your good mood.”

“That bad?” Jason asks, resettling his nerves.

Danny snorts.

“The Observants always make everything either as boring as they can or as difficult as they can. It could be worse though; the Valhallans are a party people so it should balance out. Best case scenario they’ll spend the end of the meeting annoying ‘Greg’-” he adds air quotes at this, grinning, “-together.”

‘The Observants must be the eyeballs then,’ Jason thinks. ‘The name is a bit on the nose…or eye.’

“Anyway!” Danny twists and drifts to float in front of him. “We’ve got another hour or so before dinner; ready to get back to the tour?”

Jason opens his mouth, then pauses.

He takes a glance around and asks “Where is Wulf?”

“Oh, he’s off picking up a preorder - Volume 15 of, uh…something? I don’t remember the name. But don’t worry, he’ll be back in a few hours.”

And wow, the promise that Wulf isn’t just hovering unseen in the background does a lot to untense muscles he hadn’t realized were tensed.

“Right. Sure, tour away.”

He held in his questions, for all that he was bursting at the seams for answers.

Because really: Clone? Archnemesis??? Was this a hero-villain thing or a fae politics thing? Cloning generally wasn’t a thing heroes did, but kidnapping wasn’t either.

What did Elle mean by ‘Halfa?’ Or technically a week old???

Also: brother? Adopted? There’s no way, right?

Being yanked off of the streets of Crime Alley by some dude living in a veritable castle to be adopted with little to no explanation was not something that happened to people twice.

Let alone when he is, in fact, a grown-ass man.

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

The next section they visit is Elle’s, located close to the final tower on the same side as the Specters’ had been.

The first room is filled with complex ice sculptures - a panther the size of a horse, a normal-sized cat, a few of the yetis, a kid in a pirate garb with a parrot, a girl covered in…Lunch Boxes? Danny, Jazz, and Spike were scattered among more unfamiliar statues.

They take their time in this room, Danny pointing to a lot of the people depicted and giving him names to go with faces - he even recognizes a few of them from earlier parts of the tour, and makes sure to commit them all to memory.

Then came the rooms that looked like a cosmopolitan’s dream collection.

A room dedicated to world maps through the ages - little groups of similarly-aged maps slowly orbited each other in globe-like patterns while newer versions and even a few of alien worlds lined the walls.

At least 3 rooms are dedicated to photos from all around the world - he spotted the Eiffel Tower, the Pyramids, the Congo from above, the Great Wall of China, Niagara Falls - plenty of well-known tourist locations, as well as a wide variety of nature shots. The nature shots took up an entire floor-width room, and were arranged to transition from one biome to the next.

The next room is full of souvenirs; postcards, foods from around the world frozen in more of that crystal-clear ice, weapons, clothing, jewelry - a little bit of everything.

Another swift pass-through - and by, since one of them was occupied - of the meeting, sitting, and nap rooms has them finally arrive at the room that was probably the reason Elle said ‘map rooms’ and not just ‘room.’

It was domed like an observatory, but instead of the night sky it showed that infinite green.

Different sections zoomed in and out, just slowly enough to take in. The room is scattered with cushions and telescopes aimed up. At the very center stands some kind of machine, spitting out paper which, when he floats over to look at it, reveals a single, ever-growing map.

“Elle is obsessed with travel,” Danny says fondly. “She was away more often than not at first, but then she got the idea to map the Realms - a map that can be referenced rather than a single ‘take me where I ask you to’ artifact.”

He floats up towards the dome as he speaks.

“It might seem pointless with how much paper an infinite amount of realms will take to map, but the mechanism feeds the map data into a computer that sends everything to be incorporated into Tucker and Technus’ Zone Map App. It updates constantly, what with the fluctuations in the Zone, but it’s always improving.”

“Fluctuations?” Jason asks, processing the ‘infinite amount of realms’ remark.

“Think of it like space; there’s gravity against the constant growth of the universe. The zone expands and contracts, like the flow of a tide. Except it’s moving in all directions instead of just the two.

But it expands more than it contracts, and just like on the sea or in space things can drift closer together or farther apart. Following specific streams can help, but only so much. Reliable navigation was pretty hard to come by before Elle, Tuck, and Technus started working on this.”

“Impressive,” Jason says softly.

And it is. The thought of mapping a veritable ocean with important bits that never stayed in the same place…it seemed nigh-impossible.

Opposite the third tower - “We can tour my tower after dinner,” Danny had said - lay the section belonging to Jazz and Spike.

The first thing they come to is familiar - the library.

“Anyone can use the library, but Jazz is the one in charge.”

Jason stops cold.

“Jazz.” He echoes.

Jazz, who had so calmly and proficiently wielded a gun.

Who had gifted him a gun.

Who had expressed her own love for literature.

They’d even briefly discussed some of the classics and yet-

“Jazz made that impossible excuse for a sorting system!?”

He couldn’t bring himself to worry about upsetting him, he’d just have to risk the ribs. That ‘sorting’ system was a travesty that could not stand unchallenged.

Luckily, Danny only chuckles a bit.

“Come on, it’s not that bad,” he snorts, shaking his head.

“Not that- how are you supposed to find anything!” he shouts, throwing his hands into the air.

“You ask,” Danny answers, brow raised.

“WHO!? THERE’S NO RECEPTIONIST!” Jason scrubs his hands against his hair in frustration.

Understanding dawns on Danny’s face at that.

“Here, let me show you,” he says, nodding to the doors before zooming through.

Jason follows, anger simmering under his skin - fully his own, for the first time in years.

“Library,” Danny says as Jason comes to float beside him, “May I please see The Guide to Phantom Palace?”

A book soars from a wall shelf to float, wiggling in front of him like an eager puppy.

“Thank you!” Danny says brightly, before turning to hand the book to Jason.

“The library is sentient,” he explains. “Good manners are key, by the way - Jazz is in charge, but the library can and will kick people out if they're rude or incautious with food and drinks.”

Jason stares at the book in his hand a moment, frustrated at the simplicity of it and the hour he spent looking aimlessly, but at least a bit soothed at the presence of a way to actually find things - even if the organization still makes no sense.

“Why the emotional organization system, then?” He finally asks.

“That’s for Jazz,” Danny answers. “This library is a part of some psychology project she’s doing - the return system, at least. Ask the library for the book you want - or you can ask for suggestions based on certain criteria. It’s sentient, it can help you find things - and when you’re done with it you put it back where you think it should be based on your own emotions.

Or if you don’t want to participate you can just put your books back on the shelf by the desk and Jazz will rearrange them however she sees fit.”

“Psychology project?” Jason asks after pause.

“Ah, you’d have to ask her. She told me all about it when it was first getting set up, but as much as I tried to understand it, it was all Greek to me.”

“Anyway!” he claps, “Now for the rest!”

The rest of Jazz’s section seems to follow the psychology theme.

A rage room that looks well-loved - battered, glowing clubs and a variety of damaged items from tech to glass to dummies that appeared to be slowly healing themselves.

A soothing room full of soft things and calming music and candles and even a few flowers.

A sound-proof room for quiet, a therapy room for meeting with ‘patients.’ Then of course there were the business meeting, paperwork, sitting, and nap rooms. And a combat room.

The nap, combat, and sitting rooms seemed to be shared, with the second part of the section - Spike’s - branching off from the sitting room.

Spike, of course, had his own cursed paperwork and meeting rooms.

Then came the ‘this is the home of an artist’ rooms.

An enormous circular room was dedicated to acting as a color wheel, the walls slowly shifting from deepest reds to darkest indigos, with every shade and color in between. In the center of the floor was the darkest shade of black, radiating out to a blinding white where it met the walls - the ceiling was the opposite, a bright white dot radiating darker until it met the walls as a void-like black.

A room filled with sketches and paintings, a room full of blank or half-made canvases with pencils and paints and brushes floating all around - seemingly where they’d been abandoned, a room full of miniature landscapes matching both locations he’d seen on earth and the strange landmasses he’d seen on the journey to the castle. And then what Danny called an archive room, where Spike stored older projects that he no longer wished to display.

Skalfred found them just as Danny finished explaining the room.

“Perfect timing!” Danny grins, turning to Jason. “Race you there?"

They’re near the library. Jason knows the way.

He zips around Skalfred and out the door in lieu of an answer.

He can just faintly hear Danny sputtering, ‘You cheater!’ coming out around the echoing laughter behind him.

***

@mayoota-blog1 @kyrianclawraith, @do3y, @someonebored0100 @omegasmileyface @a-star-with-a-human-name @akikoyuii @newgraywolf @tytythehistoryguy

Fun Facts!

Elle’s name - she initially chose Dani because she didn’t want to change herself just to differentiate herself from Danny - lots of people have the same name, and she has just as much right to it as Danny.

But it also made her feel too much like a copy and less like a person - especially with the confusion when she started living with the Fentons.

Then Jazz suggested Elle would be a nice name - it’s part of her name already and it’s like Elle Woods, known badass. They then watched legally blonde, and Dani decided it was a really cool name and started going by Elle. She’s a lot happier with it - no more discomfort when being spoken too, and they can still call her Dani when she and Danny are both in the room and they want to annoy the Observants or other people by doing The Bit(™) [both pointing to themselves ‘who me’ - other person, also in on the bit, facepalming and saying ‘Danny’ - them ‘which Danny.’ Of course no one told the observants Dani also goes by Elle. One time one got tired of it and went ‘Obviously the Danny with the crown of fire.’ And Danny makes the Crown of Fire appear (separate little mini-rings-transformation) at the same time Elle pulls a Burger King Crown actively on fire from her Halfa Pocket Space and they both go ‘which crown of fire’ and it is by the blessing of not having organs alone that the observant in question did not immediately have an aneurysm from sheer, apoplectic rage.]

Palu - Danny is a dog person, Elle is a cat person. Palu is named for Cath Palug - the closest thing I could find to a cat-equivalent of Cujo’s namesake. Same neon-green fur as Cujo, but all-purple eyes. Palu can be the size of a cat (around twice Cujo’s puppy-size), but can get up to the size of a horse (just slightly smaller than Cujo’s max). Unfortunately, Palu is very fond of Being Enormous And Also Hunting Everything That Moves That Isn’t Dani, so they put her in one of Sam’s conservation areas where she’d be happy. She liked it enough to move her lair - an incredibly large pet-bed in a small forest of cat trees - and Dani visits whenever she wants to see her.

[sunnyrealist]

Chapter 58: Breaking the Seal

The Sun, the Moon, and All Our Stars

Summary and Details…

Previous Chapter Recap/Context: Sebastian's time off of work has ended, and the couple's first Monday morning wake-up was difficult. Even though it's summer and school is not in session, Kate was summoned to meet with Matilda Weasley about issues regarding the Hogwarts library. When asked about her first week off, Kate decided to tell the professor that she was dating Sebastian. Matilda was surprised, unaware that he was out of prison. She also didn't know that Anne had passed away, but she did reveal an important piece of information - that Ominis became Anne's caregiver when Sebastian went to prison. Sebastian had previously tried to learn about what happened to Anne by writing to Ominis, and it had been a major disappointment when Kate's owl returned the letter he sent without a reply. He sent a letter to his old friend Ruby as well, despite the setback, but there had been no response yet. In this chapter, Sebastian and Kate talk over dinner after he returns from work at the DMLE.

Pairing: 25-year-old, post-Azkaban Sebastian Sallow x 24-year-old Kate Mayflower (my OC), the assistant librarian at Hogwarts

Content warnings: In general, this is rated 18+, so minors should not read or interact with this story. This chapter features minor injuries and a discussion about dangerous work.

The full chapter is available below the cut; it can also be found on AO3 (link is posted below). Please leave some feedback if possible, especially if you like what you read! 🥰

Chapter 58: Breaking the Seal

Kate plunks the vial of Wiggenweld potion on the table next to Sebastian’s silverware.

From his seat, he looks up at her gratefully, swallowing it down in one go, and she watches his black eye slowly clear up. The cut in the corner of his lip also seems to disappear, replaced with clean skin. 

“Explain what happened,” Kate insists. “You weren’t out in the field, so… how…?”

“No, but we have physical combat training almost every day I’m at the Ministry,” Sebastian tells her.

“So… a colleague did this to you?” she asks with disgust.

“I was paired up with one of the strongest Aurors in the gang division, and he caught me slightly distracted. These things happen,” he replies, sighing. “This will hardly be the worst state I come home in.”

“Well, I don’t like it.” She tuts as she turns to plate their dinner - pan-seared salmon with a vegetable medley and warm honey oat bread. 

“I don’t enjoy getting punched either,” he muttered. “But I repaid him during the dueling session later.” He smirks. “I’m the best in the group.”

Kate delivers the plates and sits, spreading butter on a slice of bread. “So, what does your work week look like?” 

“They have me in the field overnight between Wednesday and Thursday,” he groans, and her face drops at the news, though he warned her it happens often. “And Friday, there’s two training sessions on interrogation and poisons and antidotes. Other than that, it’s a lot of research, strategy meetings with the gang division, and spellwork evaluations. Plus physical combat and dueling. They always want us at the top of our game.” 

“I have a question. I don’t mean to offend, but…” she looks at him curiously. “Do you feel like there’s a difference in skills and knowledge between you and the Aurors?” She smiles awkwardly. “The reason I ask… is simply because there are so many qualifications to become an Auror, and many of those involve top marks and recommendations from Hogwarts professors. And since you did not finish your schooling…”

Sebastian is quiet for a moment. “When I first started working for the DMLE, they underestimated me.”

“I don’t mean to say… I don’t underestimate your abilities. You’re brilliant, Bash, and Professor Weasley said you were incredibly gifted in school,” she quickly interrupts.

“Professor Weasley?”

She smiles a little. “I had my meeting with her at Hogwarts today. I have things to tell you, too. But continue on.”

“Well,” he sips his white wine, “I don’t think anyone expected me to keep up with the others when I was brought on. They had me working specifically with Chief Hammersmith, to try to catch me up. He was shocked by how much I already knew about magical combat. When he realized I had very little to learn and felt certain about my commitment to destroying the Kelpies, he… took it upon himself to get my wand back for me.” Sebastian exhales. “It was like… finally breathing after being underwater, having it again.” 

Kate nods in understanding. “I don’t know what I’d do without my wand. I could never imagine...”

“It was like losing a limb.”

“Does the chief like you, then?” Kate asks, stabbing a broccoli floret.

“It’s… complicated,” he answers. “He knew Solomon. He… tolerates me, but sometimes he has sympathetic moments. He knows what I’m capable of - what good I can do for the department. I’m a useful tool.” He sighs. “But I have colleagues in the gang division that I am somewhat friendly with. People who trust me. People I could rely on in an emergency.”

“Maybe they could help you talk to the chief about… making an official agreement to grant your freedom,” Kate suggests.

Sebastian softly huffs out a laugh at her persistence in bringing up the topic. “I’m thinking about it more than ever now, my love.” He gives her a serious expression. “We had a briefing today. Something big is coming with the Kelpies. That’s why I’ll be in the field overnight - to obtain information.” He looks into her eyes. “I’ll do whatever it takes, Kate. I promise you - if I survive the Kelpies, I’ll be a free man. Not on probation - free.”

If I survive. It’s a sobering thought.

He sees her fearful expression and covers her hand with his. “I love you. I want nothing more than to be free and to love you for a long, long time. Have faith in me.” He pauses. “Now, tell me about your meeting.”

“Oh, where to start… Well… She asked about my summer, and… I told her about you.”

“You did?”

“Yes,” she says, refilling his wine. “She said you were a very talented student, and she was glad to hear you were out of Azkaban. Bash, she knew your parents and said they were absolutely beloved at Hogwarts. And then she asked about… how Anne was doing.”

Sebastian blanches. 

“I told her the truth - that Anne had passed while you were in prison and that we didn’t know the circumstances and I had been hoping she would know something. She… did know something.” Kate gives him a meaningful look.

His hand tightens on hers. 

“Bash, when you went to Azkaban… Anne clearly could not survive on her own. Someone stepped up for her,” she begins. 

“Ominis,” he whispers, almost immediately.

“Yes. It was him,” she replies. “Apparently, Headmaster Black granted Ominis permission to live off-campus for his sixth and seventh year so he could take care of Anne.”

Sebastian’s mind is reeling. “Do you think…” He hesitates. “Do you think he…?” He shakes his head, his brows furrowed. “I… don’t know what to think about that… how to feel about that…”

Kate gives him a small smile and squeezes his hand in understanding. “I don’t know… Maybe. Maybe.” She stands, walking towards the window. “There’s something more.” With an immensely pleased expression, she picks up a piece of sealed parchment, holding it out towards him. “This arrived today.”

His name is written on the parchment in perfect calligraphy. 

-Sebastian Sallow-

For several moments, he stares at it in amazement, then carefully takes it from Kate.

“I want to give you some time to read it privately,” Kate murmurs. “I… also have other good news, but it’s unrelated - it’s about the library. And I have dessert. Celebratory dessert, if the letter is positive, or… comfort dessert, if it isn’t.”

Sebastian finally tears his gaze away from the parchment to glance at his girlfriend. “Can I read it right now? Do you mind?”

“Not at all. By all means, go ahead, sweetheart,” Kate softly whispers, kissing the top of his head as he breaks the wax seal, unable to wait even a second. “I’ll clean up.”

He’s never left the table so quickly.

Dear Sebastian, I cannot tell you how delighted I was to receive your letter and to know that you are well. I have information to share and would like to tell you in person. It has been far too long, and it would warm my heart to see you again. We have much to catch up on. If you don’t mind, I will bring Poppy (formerly Sweeting) along - we’re married, by the way - and please, by all means, bring Kate - I would love to meet her. Poppy thinks she remembers her from Hufflepuff so long ago. We travel often for work, but we’ll be in the Inverness area all summer. Perhaps let’s meet up at the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade for old time’s sake. Does Friday evening work for you? I would truly prefer to meet up sooner, but I would rather save what may be a long and joyful visit for a weekend when we are unburdened by work and can unwind with a Butterbeer. Again, it is wonderful to know you are safe, and I look forward to seeing you soon! In friendship, Ruby

[pabulumm]

the hits start coming and they don't stop comingggg

brand new washing machine broke yesterday after only 2 weeks, can't get someone to come fix it until thursday so i'm gonna learn how to wash my underwear by hand today

dish washer's been leaking for idek how long at this point, but at least it still works i suppose

there's a 12x12 inch hole in the wall behind my toilet from my dad trying to fix a leak and it's been exposed for 3 months now in spite of my repeated pleas for it to be covered up and now that it's getting warmer spiders keep crawling out of it

and now there's an ant invasion in the kitchen

plus i've been feeling lowkey nauseous lately and idk why (not pregnant 100% sure of that at least) might be GERD, admittedly i've not been taking care of myself lately, sleeping and eating for shit...

just been throwing myself into every possible distraction because i don't wanna be a participant in my own life, which isn't really anything new, and i know it's not good but i don't know how else to cope. medicaid supposedly covers some mental health services which i should at least look into but from struggling to find a dermatologist that takes it, it became pretty apparent that as soon as they hear you're on medicaid, they want nothing to do with you because they're not gonna get any money out of you. that's hard to grapple with when you already feel unworthy and not able to take too many hits.

i know i'll feel better if i accomplish even 2 things today, so imma try to wash my undies and repot a plant that i suspect needs it and i've been neglecting. fingers crossed my plant doesn't freak out and die...supposedly its hardy, unlike me. we shall see.

[wrestlingisfake]

Worlds End preview

MJF vs. Samoa Joe - Friedman is making his 11th defense of the AEW men's world championship. He already defended the title against Joe on September 20, but he needed a timely distraction by Adam Cole to do it. Adam got hurt doing that, so Max can't rely on that trick this time. During Cole's absence, MJF has been struggling to keep up with all the guys gunning for him, so Joe offered to provide assistance in exchange for this title match. MJF finally took him up on that offer on November 18, so now it's time to pay up.

For the past three months MJF's storylines have been in the shadow of The Devil, a mysterious masked figure that stole Max's devil mask and seems to want to ruin Friedman's life. For a while it looked like Joe and MJF had a common interest in thwarting The Devil and his goons, since Joe wanted the champ to be safe and sound leading up to this match. But then on December 27, Joe and The Devil revealed it was all a set-up--Joe let two of The Devil's goons beat Max for the ROH tag title, then he personally laid out the world champ with a chair.

MJF is hurting. Not just because Joe betrayed and attacked him, and not just because he couldn't keep his promise to Adam Cole about keeping the tag belts. He's said that he's working through a legit torn labrum in his left shoulder. He clearly fucked up his right hip when he did an elbow drop from the top rope to the floor in his last world title defense. On Thursday The Players' Tribune ran a long column by Max, where he acknowledged that he's banged up and probably shouldn't be doing this match. Everything about the column reads like he wants to get some stuff of his chest because he knows he's about to go away for a while. Of course, if anybody would know how to give that impression as a red herring, to build suspense for a wrestling storyline, it's MJF.

I don't expect to learn anything significant about The Devil on this show. But that's fine with me, because I've been hankering to see this match since before The Devil even showed up. For me the point is to see the people's scumbag square off with a powerhouse he can't outwit. Max has been an underdog in most of his big title bouts, but this time he's really behind the 8-ball, and I want to see how he faces that.

When these two first worked together in September, I never expected Joe to win the title. But since the first match, AEW has only pushed Joe harder, and built him up even bigger as an unstoppable final boss. He could play that role in the midcard, and he did for over a year as ROH television champ. But once he vacated that title, I became certain they don't want him to lose again anytime soon. My gut says this is the end of Max's title reign. He could certainly surprise me and retain, but I sure don't know how.

Eddie Kingston vs. Jon Moxley - This is the final match of the Continental Classic tournament. By design, this match will decide the first AEW continental champion, but two other titles are at stake as well, since Eddie added his ROH men's world title and the STRONG men's title to the pot. So whoever wins will get three belts forming "the modern American triple crown."

Moxley won the Gold League with a 5-1 record, including a three-way semifinal against Swerve Strickland and Jay White. Kingston lost his first two Blue League matches, but since then he's been on a four-match winning streak. The last time these two faced off one-on-one was 2020, when Moxley beat Eddie in two world title bouts. Kingston has to be considered the underdog, but that's how he likes it.

Ever since Eddie put the ROH and STRONG belts on the line in this tournament, I've expected him to at least get to the final, and probably to win the whole thing. If you were just going to make up a new belt and put it on Moxley, there'd be no reason to bring the other two into this. So my gut says the plan is to build up Eddie as some kind of traveling champion who brings his triple crown to other promotions. But we won't really know what the continental title is for until after this match, I suppose.

Christian Cage vs. Adam Copeland - Cage's AEW TNT title is on the line. This is a rematch from December 6, where Cage beat Copeland to retain the belt, but he needed interference from Shayna Wayne to do it. This time Copeland wants no excuses, so the stipulation is that the match can't end by disqualification. Whoever ends up with the title after this will likely defend it against the winner of tonight's battle royale, at some point.

Cage's whole patriarch gimmick has really gotten over. I never expected him to retain against Darby Allin in October, or to win the first match against Copeland. But at this point, I think the fandom is more invested in loathing Christian than they are in seeing Copeland jump over from WWE. The money isn't in giving Copeland a belt, it's in seeing what new low Christian will stoop to in order to maintain his power base. I actually think it might be a good idea for Copeland to lose again, which would have been unthinkable eight weeks ago. I'm going to say this could go either way.

Toni Storm vs. Riho - Storm is defending the AEW women's world title. The whole storyline is just that Riho returned on December 6, so now she gets a title shot. To be fair, Riho later scored key wins over Ruby Soho and Saraya, but that's still a bit backwards. Riho is popular, but Toni's gimmick has momentum, so I don't see a title change happening anytime soon.

Julia Hart vs. Abadon - Hart's AEW TBS championship is up for grabs. If they win here, Abadon would be the first non-binary champion in AEW. Not much story here except that Julia did the lights-out teleport gimmick and offered the belt to Abadon, and they were like "yeah, let's do it" but more like a zombie would say it. There's clearly some intrigue between Julia and Skye Blue, but I'm not sure it'll play into this match.

This is a big one for me, because I invested early in both of these wrestlers. Abadon's gimmick is the kind of thing you used to only see men do, and I like that they have the range to be hideous and disturbing and not simply "sexy zombie." I wasn't sure Julia had the chops to fit in with the House of Black, but she's risen to the challenge and made people take her seriously as more than just "cute kid." They've both come so far in the past couple of years, and it's just rewarding to see them both on this big stage.

I will just bet that all the wrestlers have a good time. But realistically Julia should win, and it's a step forward for Abadon to even be in a PPV title bout.

Ricky Starks & Big Bill & Konosuke Takeshita & Powerhouse Hobbs vs. Chris Jericho & Sammy Guevara & Sting & Darby Allin - This was originally Starks and Bill defending the AEW tag title against Jericho and Kenny Omega, but Omega was recently hospitalized with diverticulitis. Now nobody gets a title shot, I guess.

Guevara turned on Jericho back in September to join the Don Callis Family, but he suffered a concussion shortly thereafter. He finally returned on December 27 and turned against the group. Jericho made the save, mending fences with Sammy, but Bill and Starks attacked them. Then Sting and Allin showed up for some reason. So AEW announced an eight-man tag. Originally Hobbs and Kyle Fletcher were representing the Don Callis Family on the heel side, but then Fletcher was swapped out with Takeshita for some reason.

I think it's pretty clear AEW had to scramble to re-book this match after Omega was sidelined. I guess the goal is to pivot to Sting & Allin vs. Starks & Bill, because otherwise I have no idea why this needed to become an eight-man tag. Sting remains undefeated in AEW, and I don't think this is going to be his first loss.

Byran Danielson & Claudio Castagnoli & Mark Briscoe & Daniel Garcia vs. Jay White & Brody King & Rush & Jay Lethal - These are eight of the twelve men from the Continental Classic tournament. There's not much to this except that none of these guys have any storylines set up for this week, so we're just throwing them into one match. The outcome probably doesn't make much difference, although I'm thinking Danielson's team will pick up the win.

Swerve Strickland vs. Keith Lee - These two were a top tag team last year, but things fell apart. The split dragged out for weeks until December 21, 2022, when Strickland did a double foot stomp off the top rope onto a cinder block on Lee's chest. Then not much happened. Finally, a couple of weeks ago, Lee started bringing up the cinder block and wanted a blowoff match, but by that point I had completely forgotten what he was talking about. I mean, okay I guess. Thing is, if they'd done the match last year, Lee would be the heavy favorite, but as it stands right now I think Swerve has to win.

Andrade El Idolo vs. Miro - Miro's hot and flexible wife CJ Perry came to AEW in September looking for clients to manage, but every time someone signs up Miro beats the fuck out of them. Andrade, however, is not so easy to beat the fuck out of. CJ convinced Miro to spare Andrade during the Continental Classic tournament, but that's over now, so. I feel like Andrade should win to keep the story going. On the other hand, I'd rather just see Miro crush Andrade and get back together with CJ. So we'll have to wait and see.

HOOK vs. Wheeler Yuta - This is scheduled for the pre-show. Hook's FTW is at stake; Yuta's ROH pure title is not. It's an "FTW rules" match, which just means the match can't end by count-out or disqualification, so anything goes. I figure one way or another we're going to get a rematch for Yuta's belt under "pure rules." So Hook should probably just win.

20-man battle royale - Another pre-show match. This is evidently a standard battle royale, so it starts with all the participants in the ring, and ends when all but one has been eliminated. Eliminations occur when a participant exits the ring over the top rope to the floor. The last man left in the ring is declared the winner, and will receive a shot at the AEW TNT title at a later date. None of the participants have been announced so far.

Assuming Christian Cage retains the TNT title, I suppose the most interesting challenger to set up would be his estranged henchman Killswitch (formerly Luchasaurus), but it may be too soon for that. If Adam Copeland wins the title, you need someone who can be a credible threat to him, like maybe Wardlow or PAC. Although I guess it'd be kind of funny if Roderick Strong won and found a new Adam to yell at. I dunno, I guess I'll go with Trent Beretta to win, since he'd be decent in a losing effort to either Cage or Copeland.

[kinetic-elaboration]

June 11: Picnic, Sick

This is my attempt to sort out what I'm feeling. My stomach felt a little iffy going all the way back to Thursday/Friday but I thought that was just stress and context. I was standing a lot on Thursday and ate lunch late, and on Saturday I went out with S and had a really big lunch and I just felt, like, full, pretty much the rest of the day. It wasn't actually that big of a lunch but I thought it must be that. I also was sort of stressed about having 2 social events in a row and not really knowing what to expect from the picnic.

At the picnic, I had some chips and stuff just to snack on and felt fine. Then I got a burger that J's fiance S had grilled. It was really big and even picking it up, I was like 'hmmm, this is really large!' I also noticed it was done more rare than I would normally eat meat. At some point while eating, I felt like it was too much but I really thought it was just the size. I thought I was just full. It didn't feel like nausea really. Like a sort of wrongness? I wanted to lie down or something or maybe just be ANYWHERE ELSE. But I also wasn't sure if I should move. I thought it was just me feeling full and that I would feel better with time.

When I decided it was like a serious bad feeling, it was literally too late. Like, I thought there was a chance I would vomit, I asked where the bathroom was, and before I could stand up, I was vomiting all over the bench. Not to be even more gross but it wasn't like normal vomiting, it wasn't like where your body is struggling to get something out. Like my body KNEW this had to go. My stomach didn't hurt or anything. It was over fairly fast but only after I'd gotten down to bile. I was honestly more embarrassed and scared than anything. J, S, and B were near me at that point. I think they got something to try to clean up with, and J and S got a park attendant, and B was staying near me and just making sure I was okay. Once I was done, I honestly felt FINE. I actually pretended to feel worse than I did so I wouldn't have to look around at people and figure out what they thought or what they saw.

I got a water, walked over to the bathrooms to wash myself off (I did get some on me, pretty gross). At that point, people were packing up to leave anyway. L asked if I was okay. I wanted to take a walk since there are trails at Freedom Park and I just… felt instinctively that's what I needed to do. The trails were pretty intense and it was getting warmer by then but it felt really good.

B and I went back to my apartment and we hung out there a little bit. I made myself mint tea. I was basically feeling fine, my stomach maybe a little weird but I thought that was just hunger since I functionally had not eaten anything sine breakfast. B and I talked about going out for smoothies but when we talked about it, I became suddenly afraid I was going to be sick. When he left, I felt WAY worse, like almost immediately. I was cold, so I changed clothes and bundled up, I was wary of moving, my stomach was bad. I got the smoothie delivered and I watched some tv. Sometimes I had to stop doing literally everything and just lie there still with my eyes closed because I was afraid I was going to be sick even though it wasn't really nausea so much as that wrongness from earlier.

Texting with my mom helped. I think effective distractions really do a lot. Which makes me wonder if it is a real sickness and not psychosomatic.

When I took a nap in bed, I did not move at all. I had a bit of a hard time falling asleep, which was also true last night--very unusual for me. When I got up I had to be very careful and slow about doing things. I took my temp and I do have a fever. But typing this all out has made me feel a lot better. I still have a headache but I don't feel as cold and my stomach is okay.

So it's like… the pre-Sunday symptoms imply I'm sick with a bug. The suddenness of the vomiting implies I was reacting to what I ate. And the wildly oscillating symptoms tied to mental state implies some degree of psycho-somaticness going on.

[writtenbygen]

Why not

I’ve spent a lot of time and energy on all the reasons “why” he was perfect for me and why we should be together. So for in the future, when I inevitably idealize him again and feel like I should’ve given him more of a chance and maybe we’d be together, here are the reasons why we’re not.

I’ve been sure of him for almost a year. At which point he was fairly in and out. He knew he was a major confidant of mine, yet would often leave texts unanswered and cancel plans without rescheduling. I get it, he doesn’t feel well. But then when I stopped reaching out, going the entire summer without seeing each other and barely speaking at all. Never once checks in on me when I had confided all the problems I was having in the spring. 

Then he miraculously reappears in the fall. Doing a little better. He wants to see me. Then he wants to see me more regularly. He says “yes” to plans and we’re regularly part of each other’s lives. It gets to the point where I can expect to hear from him pretty often. Where he knows what’s going on in my life and I know what’s going on in his. I know he has doctor appointments on Tuesdays and therapy on Thursdays. He texts me to check in at 3pm on the dot when he knows that’s the time my stressful dentist appointment would be over. It starts to feel like a little more than friends. 

Then he drops off again.

Then I have a horrible tragedy—the death of one of the most important people in my life. I call him. Because everything feels so wrong. And I know when I’m with him, I feel like everything is a little more right. He’s there for me. He tells me to come over right away. That first night, I fell apart, and as horrible as it felt to be falling apart, it felt so right that it was his arms that I fell into. I felt safe and loved and at home. I said to him that I wished I could stop existing temporarily and he said “please don’t. I kinda like you.” He put his arm around me and he held me to his chest and I listened to his heartbeat. I told him I never wanted to move and he said I didn’t have to. We sat like that on more than one occasion, 3 separate days.

It was more than a friendship.

Over the coming weeks, he and that old couch in his basement and the little orange flicker of the fake candle underneath the lamp, became my safe place. That grounded me. Daily texts, checking in on me, reminding me he was there. He’s there for me in exactly every way I need him to be. He reaches out, responds, sees me whenever I need him. Comforts me, holds me, lets me cry, distracts me, includes me with his family and friends. He is perfect. He is the supportive partner I’ve always dreamed of. It feels like things are happening. 

Whenever I was feeling lost and alone and overwhelmed by my life, I remembered him. I could text him and he’d always respond. I could invite myself over and be there soon back in his comfort. And even when I couldn’t right away, I could think about it. Just the thought that he was there supporting me, cheering me on, and the thought that I’d see him soon, that he’d be there for me, was enough to get me through the worst days of my life.

He invited me to spend Christmas Day with his family. He invited me to New Year’s Eve with his friends. It felt like things were really “happening.” It definitely felt like more than friends. His mom said she thinks of me as part of the family. The New Year’s “party” was just his close guy friends from high school, and me. It felt like I was his plus-one. This was more than a friendship.

Then he dropped off again.

Daily texting turns into maybe a text or 2 every day or 2. It gets less and less frequent. Less and less interesting. When I ask how he is, I get vague answers. He claims he’s more absent because of his own issues. Maybe that’s true. He says he doesn’t want to talk and isn’t up to talking lately. Yet, he is also extremely hurt and offended that his stupid ex girlfriend won’t make time to talk to him. He wants to talk to HER. But not me. Not me, who he knows is counting on him. Not me, who he knows loves him and is there for him.

I don’t know if he’s spooked because he felt like things were happening with us. I don’t know if he doesn’t feel the same way or is just overwhelmed or is just hung up on his ex. I don’t know if it all really IS just because he’s sick and depressed. And honestly? It doesn’t even matter. I’m sick of not being a priority. I’m sick of him always coming first to me, and me only coming first to him when it’s convenient for him. He’s unreliable and inconsistent. He’s there only when he wants to be. He doesn’t communicate. He shuts me out. He pines for someone who couldn’t care less about him, and shuts me out when I clearly care so much for him.

This is a big case of: if he wanted to, he would. I don’t need to tell him how I feel about him. I can’t, even, because I haven’t seen him. I can’t see him, because he doesn’t want to see me. For almost a month now. But he knows how I feel. I’ve made it very, very obvious, and he’s LITERALLY a rocket scientist. He’s not stupid. He’s always been more observant and less oblivious than he acts. I’ve gotten my answer. No response is a response. I am done putting my life on hold for him. I deserve better than the scraps he throws at me.

In the wake of this, I feel absolutely wrecked by him. In the horribleness of the last couple months, he has been the straw that broke me. I feel absolutely shattered, heartbroken, and abandoned by him. Even though nothing ever “happened,” he can’t possibly have been so thick to not see at the very least that he was extremely important to me and was a huge reason why I wasn’t falling apart (in addition to it just being plain obvious, I actually told him this). He was there for me at my lowest and then gradually phased me out. What, as if I wouldn’t notice? The worst part is, I wasn’t even surprised. He got progressively more and more distant, like he always does. I thought this time would be different. Maybe it was. But he’s still him, and I half-expected that from the start. He’s not going to change. And this is what I’m going to get from him. I’m never going to come first to him. He’s never going to be open and communicate with me. He’s never going to be real with me. It’s always going to be one-sided. I’m just going to pathetically pine for him like he pines for his ex.

I cannot be broken by him one more time. I deserve better than to keep giving him chances thinking that it may turn out differently. I’m not going to give him the opportunity to crush me again.

I can now officially say, I saw this “relationship” through. I gave it a chance. It won’t work out. I see that it won’t work out. These are the reasons why. The reasons why I deserve better than him. There are so many things I love about him, but he makes it impossible and painful to love him. He would be perfect as a hypothetical. But he’s not hypothetical. He’s real, and he’s flawed, and he’s broken me time and time again. Whether or not it’s deliberate or malicious, he has. He’s not horrible, he’s not the worst person ever, but he’s also not as great as I’ve made him out to be in my head. When I put it this way, when I see who he really is and what he’s really done and take off the rose-colored glasses, I can finally see that. I’ve given him way too much power over me and my life. I need to break the cycle. I need to stop giving him chances to hurt me. Things are bad enough right now. The last thing I need is to feel crushed and gutted by my “friend.”

But love isn’t rational. Love doesn’t make any sense at all. Love is why, in spite of all the reasons why not, I still want him. I still love him.