#my brand is being messy and incoherent so . .. .

[majesticwren]

due to high demand - me. I'm high demand. this entire project is being written entirely for my pleasure, be warned I'm being extremely self-indulgent - I've decided to write a little prequel to the events that take place here. this is set in 2018 and is the beginning of Fletch x OFC. billy will have his own little prequel at some point. enjoy. a/n: please don't come for me I am heavily lingering into the angst and the toxicity and the drama only for the pleasure of it and this is my testimony be warned because we'll dive head first in it folks.

Trigger Warning/s: OFC is her own trigger warning she is damaged goods and slightly toxic and emotionally unavailable, kyle is a little baby, mark is being overprotective and extremely toxic sorry not sorry, alcohol consumption, mention of addiction, mention of heroin abuse, mention of sex, mention of trauma, mention of intentional overdose, swearing, smut!, unprotected sex (this is a fic, don't do this at home kids, know your sexed!), loss of virginity (Kyle's a baby, as already said), OFC is slightly dom, angst, mainly friends to lovers/impossible relationship dynamics.

nuclear season: part I -> | part II -> | part III -> prequel: <- part I | part III -> | part IV -> Masterlist

“I tell you,” Kyle chuckled, “you should have been there. I fell off the stool from laughter. I have never seen anything like it before in my life,”

They laid close to each other in a nest of covers and pillows on her bed in her messy hotel room. Music played in the background. Erika looked at his features, getting inebriated by the naïve, sweet look he had on his pretty face. His blushed cheeks and the lack of focus he had due to being tipsy were getting her drunk more than the alcohol.

“Well, then,” Erika raised the half-full bottle of tequila in a cheer, “I suppose that requires a hooray!” giggling to herself, she let her head fall heavy on the nest of pillows. She wasn’t even sure what they were talking about anymore.

She had tried so hard to stay as far away from heavily drinking for so long, that she almost got back to being able to feel tipsy and enjoy it. She hadn’t been completely clean, but she hadn’t gotten drunk in months. Until tonight.

Sobriety would have meant for her to have a clearer mind to take sensed, thought-through decisions, considering a whole lot of consequences and people involved. But that also meant she was supposed to face her emotions, which Erika had no intention of doing. Not after she had to face Mark’s words.

If her brother didn’t believe in her, what chance did she have?

She tried to escape her past, but it was just as her brother had said. A tiger wouldn’t lose her strips. She would have never become anything better than who she was. Forever branded like the unreliable troublemaker unworthy of the benefit of the doubt or any hope.

She had been so stupid for believing anything could change. That she had a chance to become something better.

And then there was Kyle. She didn’t even want to think about how heartbroken she was. It hurt so much to want someone so desperately and knowing so well she’d never have him. It hurt too much for her to bear. If she had been given the chance to be someone different from her past, maybe she would have thought she could make it. Maybe she would treat him well, give him the affection he deserved and trust him to give her the respect she needed. But she wasn’t different. She was the same girl she left in Australia, only lived in the United Kingdom and pretended to be someone else for kicks.

And now, she just knew she was going to break Kyle’s heart. It was a conscious decision she had made.

Instead of considering her options, Erika decided to take the familiar route of drowning herself in a bottle of tequila and making bad decisions. It was easy enough to forget about her dreams and expectations. And the more she fell into her drunkenness mess of incoherent stormy emotions, the more she became erratic and unpredictable, spiralling into a dark void. She was stuck in an ouroboros where she became the thing she feared the most to escape it.

And now, she was ready to stand by the rubble of everything she was going to ruin.

Before Kyle could grab the bottle from her grasp, Erika retrieved it to her chest, sending him a teasing look, challenging him to come and get it as she drank more of the bitter liquor herself. She hid her grin behind the bottle, chugging down a big gulp. No salt. No lime. No shame.

The liquid felt hot as it slid down her throat and into her stomach. Its warmth spread quickly through her and into her mind, making it difficult to focus on much more but Kyle’s lips.

“You are so pretty,” she whispered, deciding to push herself to break the distance between them and tracing his jawline with her fingertips. “Beautiful, actually.”

Kyle’s face became red all over. “Not like you,” he dared and then stole the bottle off her grasp and hid his timidity behind it.

She felt every inch of her skin itch to be touched. The small distance dividing them was so painful to endure. She felt the need to feel him. To have him. Hanging between their words and in their crossed gazes there was everything she tried to deny herself from feeling and all the space he allowed her to have, respecting her wishes. The difference was she was done being mature. She had taken her decision. Trying and act like the bigger person, getting away from everything toxic in her behaviour, didn’t bring her anywhere. So why keep fighting?

That was her last chance to make a sensible decision before ruining everything.

Fuck Mark.

She thought impulsively, getting distracted from Kyle.

Fuck him and all his empty promises and his pretended love. He didn’t deserve her to try. He didn’t believe she could, anyway. So, he wasn’t going to have the best version of her. He ripped her hope away and threw her in the dark. So, she was going to hurt the only person he cared about. And she had every intention of liking it. Kyle would have been delicious; she just knew it.

“I am so glad you are here,” she didn’t need to lie about that. She was aware of what she was walking into and what she would have done. But she truly liked him.

This time, she traced her fingers to his chin, close to his lips.

Kyle popped a timid smile, as he looked at her face. Words didn’t come out of his mouth. He was fiddling with his hands. So nervous and pretty, made her smile widen. Delicious.

Erika was naturally prompted to move to him, placing a hand on his chest. “What is it, baby?” She wondered in a low purr, pushing herself closer to him. “You are so nervous.”

“I didn’t think you’d call; you know?”

“No?” Erika decided it was time to get rid of the bottle of tequila, which she leaned over to leave on the bedside cabinet, before quickly going back to snuggling by Kyle’s side. “You haven’t noticed how I look at you?”

“I have. I do. I hope that you’ll notice me all the time,” he admitted, “but you made it clear you need distance, and that’s what I gave you.”

“And I appreciate that,” Erika wasn’t lying. Nothing of what she felt for him was constructed. She was truly enjoying spending time with him and wanted so much more from him that it felt difficult to breathe; even though she did ask him to join her only because of her quarrel with Mark, to prove a point, and was determined to break both their hearts.

If she was supposed to end up suffering, she was gonna do it in the sweetest and most prohibited way possible.

“I don’t want to have distance anymore,” Erika suggested, her eyes crossed Kyle’s face, soaking up his sweetness. She decided to encourage him to follow her queue by grabbing his hand and gently guiding him to place it on her stomach. He watched her do it holding his breath in his chest.

His touch was extremely attentive. Kyle laid his large hand flat on her abdomen, not daring to move. His skinny fingers were spread across her, feeling the soft material of the extra-large t-shirt she was wearing above a simple pair of booty shorts. Then, his hand moved ever so slightly, feeling her body underneath his touch.

A shiver crossed her. They were barely touching and she was already on fire. A soft sigh left her as the pleasure of his touch, even just so small, was already enough to make her stretch under him. She desperately wanted him to touch her all over and to feel him everywhere. She was ready to beg and had to bite her tongue not to. Not yet. That simple caress wasn’t enough – not even remotely.

Erika kept her hand on his, pushing him down into her belly, making him feel her. She needed him to explore her. She wanted him to desire to feel her just as badly as she did. Her other hand was still on his face as she was carried away by his timid look as he followed everything she did. There was uncertainty behind his eyes, but it was the edge of expectations he hung on that attracted her the most.

“Tell me what you are thinking,” she pulled his chin, making him look back at her. “I need to know what’s going on behind those beautiful eyes.”

Kyle tried to hide behind a chuckle, but his blushed cheeks gave him away. “What do you think I am thinking?” He wondered, trying to outsmart her.

Except Erika wasn’t playing. “I hope you are wondering what I look like when I am naked.” She dared, not stopping at how he choked on his breath. “And I am hoping you are going to put those pretty hands and lips into use soon.”

“God, Erika,” he whispered, trying to escape her gaze.

He hissed when she didn’t let him get away. “Tell me. Please, baby, I need to know. I need you.”

The way he shivered made her body react. Warmth flooded right through her, charging up her nerves and making her belly ache and her abdomen feel heavy. God, nothing about her desire needed to be forced in any way, Erika truly liked him and had been wanting him for a long time now. Only she had stopped hiding it away. Now it was her time to be selfish.

“Me too,” he admitted, leaning closer to her, enough to press his forehead on hers. “I want you so bad it hurts.”

She smiled victoriously and decided she was done waiting around. She pushed herself closer to him, brushing her lips on his.

Kyle took another few moments to warm up. He was awkward and uncertain, but surely ready to follow her queues, because, as soon as he battled with his shyness, he dived into her lips, kissing her with a hunger and desperation Erika was more than ready to match.

It had been so long since they kissed and she had missed his lips ever since.

There was a force pulling her towards him. How did she believe it possible to fight against her deepest desires?

She was such a fool.

Erika’s hand cruised across his neck and around his shoulders, pulling him down on her. She avidly studied the slim edges of his body, admiring the feeling of every muscle and bone she found, desiring to feel more. She needed his naked skin. His warmth. His everything.

Kyle weighing on her as they made out was so sweet and ravaging. She was already pretty unhinged and self-destructive, but now, nothing was stopping her.

Erika bent her leg and slid it around his thin waist, branching around him like ivy. She then guided his hand from her belly to her thigh, needing to feel his fingers on her naked skin. This time, Kyle was more courageous and took the initiative, squeezing her soft flesh into his hold. The soft moan he released, pushing himself against her, further into her arms, sent her ballistic.

Erika pushed him down on the mattress and hopped over his hips, straddling him. This time, lowering herself back down, she pushed her face into the crook of his neck, avidly kissing his skin and adoring feeling him tensing up underneath her, his choked breath was music to her ears.

Kyle took a few long seconds before feeling confident enough to wrap his hands around her hips. But then, he rewarded her by letting his hands explore her body, feeling dauntless enough to cruise up her spine and down one leg.

Erika pulled herself up sitting back into his hips and enjoying every inch of his body she felt underneath her. He was aroused. She felt his trapped erection poke her through their clothes. And, God, that was enough to make her head spin. Not thinking too clearly, she pushed her hands in between them, reaching for his belt, feeling the need to touch him.

However, before she could even realise her desires, Kyle froze and was quick to stop her. His hold on her was gentle but firm as he grabbed her hands and pushed them off him.

Erika sat back up on him, frowning. “What is it, baby?”

“Nothing,” he huffed, avoiding eye contact, “I just- would like to take it easy, for a moment.”

Looking down at him, she suddenly felt slightly uncomfortable with the idea that he may have not wanted the same thing she did, despite his clear arousal and desire for her. Though there was something in him, in his quickened breath and pink cheeks, and in the way his eyes were drawn away from her, that intrigued her even more.

She slipped a hand of his grasp only to grab his chin and pull him to look at her. “What is it, Fletch?”

“Nothing-” he choked. His entire face was becoming red.

Erika leapt into his eyes. “No. That’s not nothing.” She leaned in, brushing her lips over his softly, “Tell me.”

Kyle hesitated, looking at her for a long moment and then, with a defeated sigh, he shook his head. “I think I need a minute before we start doing stuff.”

“Ok,” she nodded, understanding and encouraging, not forcing herself on him. “Why? Are you ok?”

“More than ok,” he nodded, “please, don’t think I don’t want this. You.” He released her hand only to place his around her hips, giving her an encouraging squeeze. “Because I do. More than the world.”

“Then what is it?” She wondered softly, kissing gently his forehead and then cheeks, loving the way he moulded into her like a cat bumping his little face into her.

“I-” he choked on a secret.

“You can tell me,” She encouraged him softly, sliding her hand across the back of his neck and up his shaved hair, gently cradling him. “You can tell me anything.”

“I may not have as much experience as you think I do,” he revealed speaking quickly.

“That’s ok,” Erika pulled a gentle smile, willing to make him feel at ease. She had suspected it by the way he was attentive and soft and, if anything, it only made her more feral.

Though Kyle still shook his head. “No, you don’t understand.” He took a deep breath like he was trying to gather all his courage. “I’ve never done this before.”

Erika was stricken.

She froze on the spot, looking down at him.

However, her shock was soon gone. She was quick to cup his face into her hands, holding him ever so gently. “Are you a virgin?”

Kyle quietly nodded, face still red all over and puppy eyes so sweet her heart couldn’t take it.

Her chest was quick to warm back up and fill with a feeling so strong it made it hard to breathe. It was respect. It was affection. It was straight-up devotion, the second she realised the meaning of his words. And then it ripped her apart, as she realised he wasn’t only a sweet-looking boy she fancied. He wasn’t only a prohibited fruit she wanted to defile to prove a point. He was so much more than that. He was everything she wanted. What she felt rolling out of her chest, made her have to bite her tongue not to tell him how deep she was falling for him.

She attentively caressed his cheeks.

That wasn’t going the way she had planned. She had planned to do what she was used to, which was charming a boy into bed with her and watching her world burn. But now all of that was gone in the back of her mind. Now there was only their moment.

“Would you give it to me?” She wondered pulling his chin up, brushing her lips against his.

Kyle nodded without a second of hesitation. “Yes. Yes, please. I have thought about this so much. I just need you to go slow on me.”

“Oh? You thought about this?” Kyle whined and nodded in her hold, only attracting her attention more. Erika kissed the sides of his mouth, “When?” she wondered in a whisper, “touching yourself?” He whimpered, and then nodded again, only prompting her to pull his chin softly. “Use your words, pretty boy.”

“Yes. I did.”

Erika rewarded him with a soft kiss. “Thinking about me?”

“Mh- yes, it’s always you.”

“Fuck, Kyle,” she hissed as a shiver crossed her back, making her skin ripple in goosebumps.

There, right at that moment, as they both stood over an edge there was no coming back, Erika decided there was no past or future. They were only a boy and a girl who liked each other. There were no consequences, no regrets. Only what they felt and what they wanted.

And she desperately wanted him to be hers. Only hers.

Erika pulled him up in a kiss, starting with her plan by taking his lips. He melted underneath her, now wrapping his arms fully around her, caging in a hug and holding onto her like she was a lifeline.

This time, he was the one taking the initiative. He traced her chin with his lips and down her neck, pushing her to bend in between his arms, assaulting one of her most sensitive spots, tasting her skin.

“Yes,” she cooed with a proud smile on her lips, enjoying feeling his mouth on her. “I like that. Keep going.”

Kyle followed her words gladly, taking a liking to nibble on the sensitive skin under her ear only to feel her shiver and sigh in his arms. She whimpered when his hot tongue passed over the spots his teeth marked.

“Did you ever have a girlfriend, before?” she wondered breathlessly, sliding a hand through the longer hair on top of his head, feeling the need to grab on something.

“I am not that naïve,” he pointed out, looking up at her with a small grin, “I did stuff before, only not everything.”

God, he was breathtaking with his puffed-up lips, blushed cheeks and glimmery eyes.

“Oh, yeah?” Erika brushed her lips on his forehead, “what stuff?” She found it so arousing for no reason in particular, if not that he just became a thousand times more delicious to her. She wanted to eat him up.

Kyle went red again. “Everything else but sex.”

“Everything?” She kept wondering, tracing circles with her fingers across the back of his neck. “Like what? You had a little girlie who showed you how she liked to be touched? Or more than one girl, maybe?”

“Are you taking the piss out of me?”

“No.” She simply said looking down at him. “It turns me on. Tell me, I want to know.”

“Just one girl,” he sighed, giving her exactly what she wanted, “We were high school sweethearts, we were together for a little over one year, though it didn’t work out as soon as I started travelling with wrestling. It’s been some time now.”

“Was she pretty?” Erika causally played with his hair.

She wasn’t jealous. She had never been jealous once in her life, her ego was big enough to give her the confidence to know there was no competition with her. When she wanted something, she simply would have it. There was no other way about it. But she was proud, arrogant even, and she needed to know; she needed to hear it from his lips.

“Yes,” he nodded, “she was a pretty girl. Too pretty for me. But nothing compared to you,” Kyle didn’t disappoint her. “But you know that, don’t you?”

She pushed her index under his chin, making him lift his face. “I like to hear how pretty you think I am.”

“Breathtaking,” he revealed. The way his honest eyes glimmered, as he traced the soft lines of her features, gave her a shiver. “You look like you came out of a dream. But it isn’t only your smoky hot body or the way I’d fall on my knees every time you smile. It’s your eyes. When you look at me, I feel seen. I feel important.”

“You are seen,” Erika slid her hands around his face, making sure to be as close to him as possible, “You are important to me, Kyle.”

She shouldn’t have said it. She was well aware. But there were worse things she wanted to say just as badly. She wasn’t only falling for him; she was already there and had those three words on the tip of her tongue. She couldn’t keep it in anymore, her heart was leaping out of her chest and pouring straight into his. Erika had no control over the emotion that just overwhelmed her. But she forced herself to silence.

He may never know it. She had never been no one’s before, but she was his now. No matter about tomorrow or the consequences of all those damned choices they were making in that bed. A piece of her just left her and he had it to keep forever.

“I want to take off your clothes,” she instructed softly, her hands sliding down on his chest, hinting at her words. “Would that be ok?”

Kyle nodded quickly, only prompting her to reach for the helm of his t-shirt and pull it up and over his head. She then gave him a gentle push, hinting for him to lay back down under her. Kyle followed her queue obediently and let her feast on the view.

She saw him shirtless all the time while they worked. Sometimes around the house too. It wasn’t news. But it was entirely different now when she had his consent to study, tease and taste every centimetre of his exposed skin.

Her fingers followed attentively her gaze across his torso. His skin was soft and warm under her touch, feeling thinly stretched over his slim body. She followed the edges of his thin pecs and down the sternum to his abdomen. As she teased him, tracing her fingers lower to his belly button, Erika enjoyed seeing how his breath trembled in his belly. It gave her a hot shiver that crossed her spine and nested right into her abdomen, giving her the primal need to lower herself and leave a deep bite mark on his belly. Before she could get distracted over, her fingers cruised back up across his sides and ribs, feeling every bone under her fingertips, counting them.

Erika leaned down on him and, before he could move his arms to reach for her, she gently interceded him and made him bend them over his head. A confident smirk on her lips as she looked at him as she crossed his wrists and pinned him down, looking at him like he was his most precious possession.

“Do not move. Can you do that for me, Kyle?”

“Yes,” his voice was bent in a whimper that made her thoughts fog up.

“Good boy,” Erika rewarded him with a kiss on the lips and then moved on his neck. Her hand clawed around his jaw, pushing his head up, making him expose as much of his throat as possible just so she’d have free access to it.

She kissed and nibbled over his soft skin, having to assert the utmost control over herself so as not to leave visible marks. Even though marking him was the only thing she could think about. It was possessive, maybe wrong even, and yet, she wanted his skin to present the traces of her nails, teeth and hickeys.

Kyle moaned and stretched underneath her, bucking his hips up at her, trying to find some kind of release, as she sucked his soft skin into her mouth. It was enough to send them both insane. Erika passed her tongue from the base of his neck up to his chin. Feeling his Adam’s apple move under her muscle made her growl like a feral animal.

She then moved down across his body. Her lips moved to his shoulders as she nibbled on his collarbones and down his chest, where she enjoyed toying with his nipples, licking and sucking, only bringing him to arch underneath her and huff, blinded by pleasure.

“You need to stay still for me, baby,” she hinted as she moved down on him, crossing his abdomen with the tip of her nose.

Kyle still arched underneath her, extremely reactive to her touch.

God. And she hadn’t even got to his cock yet. She wondered what kind of little whimpers he would have offered as soon as she did.

Her hands moved across his hips and followed the edge of his jeans, moving slowly to the buckle of his belt. She looked up at him, making sure to study his reaction so she could stop if he froze again.

He didn’t. He hissed instead, arching and throwing his head backwards, letting her have a perfect view of his stretched-up body caged by the invisible chains of her will.

“Give me permission to take your pants off, baby,” she begged.

Kyle looked down at her, looking pretty and desperate, lust glimmering through his beautiful light eyes. “Yes,”

Erika started to undo his belt; her savvy fingers had no trouble with the buckle. “And then,” she started, looking back up at him, “I want to take you into my mouth. Would you like that, baby?”

Kyle let his head fall back, his chest trembled in a small whimper.

“Use your words, pretty boy,”

“Please, Erika,” he whispered, still keeping his hands above his head like he was tied down. “Yes. Do whatever you like to me.”

Erika acted frantically like her life depended on that moment. She opened his jeans and pulled them down on his hips, not letting herself look at him. Not just yet. She wanted to savour it. She pulled them down his legs, helped by him lifting his waist. They giggled innocently to each other.

Finally, once he was naked under her, Erika slid her hands across his thighs, feasting on his body.

A proud grin crossed her plump lips as she shamelessly looked at his erection. “What a nice surprise,” she teased, biting down on her lip, “such a big pretty boy with a big pretty cock,” she spaced her words willingly, adoring seeing him hang from her lips.  

Kyle was flustered, red all over his face and neck, and breathless, but didn’t hide from her. There was a certain level of expectation and ego hiding behind his curiosity. He wished to be praised. “All yours.”

His words crossed her like a spike, hitting her straight into her lower abdomen, and making her tremble. She felt her inside squeeze under the desperate pressure of feeling him inside of her. She had never experienced desire quite like that before.

“Mine.” She agreed.

His virgin skin was milky pale, making her feel the savage need to bite down on him, nibbling along his leg and up to his hipbone. A desire she gave into and responded to Kyle’s little whimpers with moans of her own.

She looked up at him, making sure he was just as lost in the moment as she was, as her lips traced across his lower abdomen. Erika was attentive as she rolled her hand around his cock, allowing Kyle to settle down into her touch. He flinched, but almost immediately relaxed under her, releasing a pleasureful sigh. Erika gently squeezed him in her palm, rolling her hand across his length.

A sharp smile crossed her lips. “Did I get your dick wet?” It was a rhetorical question. He was, in fact, wet, so to speak. But she still wanted to see him nod for her. “You are so fucking desperate; I haven’t even done anything yet.” Her hand followed her words across his cock as she dared to kiss its base, feeling the need to have a little taste of him.

Kyle moaned shamelessly. “I-” he tried to formulate words that only escaped him, mixing with whimpers.

She had never heard a prettier sound.

“What, baby?”

“Please, Erika, I can’t take it anymore,”

She was the one who whimpered now. Having him begging under her made her go feral.

Erika looked up at him, nodding. “I want you to do something for me,”

“Anything,”

“You are free to move your hands now. I want you to grab my hair as I suck on you. And I want you to pull it. And I want you to push me down on you anytime you want to go deeper into my throat.”

“Fuck-” he choked.

“Can you do this for me, baby?”

“What if I choke you?”

“God, baby,” she flicked her tongue along his length, stealing another moan and all of his focus out of him. “That’s the entire point. I want to choke on your cock.”

Kyle sounded like he could cry and she was done wasting time.

She knew well he wouldn’t have lasted long. And she was intentioned to milk every drop of the pleasure of his first time out of him. But she also wished to take it as slow as possible, just like he asked.

Erika traced his length, base to tip, with her tongue and then, she gently took him into her mouth, again allowing him to get used to the feeling of her hot mouth around him. Kyle moaned loudly, not losing a second to slip both his hands into her hair, grabbing on it more to brace himself than to control her movement. As he looked down at her, his mouth was open, pretty lips puffed and wet, his face bent in pleasure.

When she started sucking on him, Kyle was completely gone. He let his head fall backwards on the pillows and arched underneath her, whimpering and softly moaning to her every movement. Erika slid her hands up his chest, digging her nails into his skin, as she took him a little deeper into her mouth with every thrust.

Kyle followed his instinct, Erika’s lips closed around the base of his dick and he, holding her head firmly in between his hands, pushed himself as deep as possible into her throat. A shiver crossed as she felt him so deep inside of her. She released a suffocated moan that slipped right through him, shaking Kyle too.

“Fuck, baby I’m-” he gasped for air, “so close.”

Erika pulled back, releasing him and catching her breath. Looking up at him, she whipped out another sharp grin. “Do you want me to stop?” she wondered only pretending to be innocent. She had no intention of stopping.

“Not a chance,” Kyle then surprised her. He grinned too and, pulling on her hair, he hinted to her to climb back over him. “You are still wearing clothes,” he whispered as soon as she was close enough for him to kiss her.

Kyle took over. He moved her hair out of the way and kept a hand dug deep into it. She started to suspect he liked it to hold her like that. And Erika had no complaints about it. Erika threw her arms around his shoulders, enjoying his initiative. With his free hand, Kyle guided her to go back straddling him and then wrapped his arm around her hips, pushing her to sit as close to him as humanly possible.

His erection pressed on her hot core, making her head spin. It was the first moment she realised what kind of mess she was already. Her pleasure had been forgotten for a second, but now, she realised she had soaked her pants. Erika released a soft moan into his mouth as she rubbed herself against him, only giving him a hint of what to expect. She wanted to drive them both insane.

Kyle’s fingers squeezed the material of her large t-shirt, he then tugged at it and pulled it up on her figure. Erika helped him remove it and then welcomed how he moved on her with a giggle. Her body moulded on him as Kyle kissed her neck, down to her collarbones and shoulders, and lower again. His warm hands were quicker to cup her breasts, squeezing them; he followed quickly, not losing a second to suckle on her tits.

Erika’s head fell heavy as his tongue played with her hard nipples. Her stomach was invaded by a heavy wave of pleasure that slipped through her, making her skin feel tight as she stretched against him, looking to find release. A louder moan escaped her lips, only prompting him to grunt on her.

“Look at you,” she whispered brushing her smile on his forehead. “Little virgin pretty boy knows what he’s doing, uh?”

Kyle shamelessly bit her nipple, in return to her words, and then offered a cocky smirk. “I know some stuff.”

“Clearly,” she smiled, pushing a finger under his chin making him lift his face. “Can I fuck you, now?”

He trembled under her touch; his fingers squeezed her hips as he softly nodded. “Yes. I’d like that.”

“Yes, you would, baby.”

Erika downed on his lips, trapping them into a kiss. She caged his head between her arms and squeezed him against her as if she could push him into her chest and never let him go.

Kyle’s fingers hooked on the band of her booty shorts and pulled on them, teasing her. To which Erika reacted moving her hips, rubbing herself on him.

She broke their kiss, trying to catch her breath and think clearly, even though common sense still escaped her. It was too hot, he was too sweet and inebriating, and the tequila didn’t help.

“Ok,” she huffed, “do you know how it’s going to work?”

“I have access to the internet, babe. I’ve seen porn before.”

Erika smirked, shaking her head as they both blushed. “Ok, little smartass, don’t get an attitude with me,” she poked his chest, “or I’ll make you regret it and beg until you apologise to me.”

Kyle smiled, so smitten as he looked at her. “You like having control, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do.” That being said, she pulled his hair, making him bend his head for her. “I’ll give you a pass because I am about to take your virginity,” only thinking about that made her stomach tremble, “but remember it next time. A brat gets punished.”

Kyle still smiled, testing her. “Careful, I might decide to punish you, one day.”

A shiver crossed her. They had no future, she was aware, and yet she hoped for it. She wished that one day, he’d make her whine and moan desperately under his control. “Let’s see if you can take it from me, pretty boy.” She decided she rather keep pretending that was only the beginning for them.

Erika pushed him down on the mattress and then got rid of her shorts, throwing them somewhere in the room. She was quick climbing back on him and, as soon as she did, she grabbed Kyle’s cock, massaging it into her palm and silencing whatever he was going to say. “You are so hard for me, baby.”

Kyle hissed, nodding as his hands cruised on her thighs. He bit hard on his lower lip, looking so pretty underneath her, it was insane. Erika pushed him against her bare core, rubbing herself against him and immediately was shaken by a wave of pleasure, feeling how hot and heavy his flesh was. “Do you feel how wet you got me?”

He whimpered softly, looking down at their bodies meeting. “Fuck, Erika,”

Every time he called for her name, she felt transported to another dimension.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Yes. God, yes.”

“Come here, baby. Sit up for me,” she suggested and was ready to catch him as soon as he did as she asked. She rolled an arm around his shoulders, keeping him as close as possible. She needed it. She had no intention of having an inch of space in between them as she took him deep inside of her. “I want you so bad.” Erika brushed her lips on his chin, accompanying her words rubbing herself against him once more.

Kyle trembled under her and then hissed, nodding. “Me too. Please, just fuck me.”

She didn’t let him ask her again. She was done waiting and teasing. It was time and there was no going back. She was already his. And he was hers. Only for that night.

Erika lifted her hips and positioned herself on him. She looked straight into his eyes, getting lost in them as she slowly lowered herself on his erection, taking him inch by inch as slowly as she could. Pleasure shot through her immediately, connecting her to him on a deeper level. She mirrored his expression as Kyle opened his mouth, welcoming feeling her squeezing on him and taking his virginity with a silent moan. She wasn’t quiet. He was shaken by a shiver as pain and pleasure mixed through him.

Erika sat still on him, giving him the time to process how it felt. He stretched her nicely, making her feel breathless. A proud smile quickly followed as she nodded, encouraging him. “Good boy,” she whispered, kissing the sides of his mouth, hugging him. “Pretty, sweet boy. All mine.” Erika kept lulling, getting lost in their moment.

When she moved on him, she watched him take a deep breath and hold it in his chest. Pleasure was slipping through her, making it so difficult for her not to get selfish and just take what she wanted.

“Tell me how it feels, Kyle.” Her words were accompanied by another slow thrust.

He rolled his eyes in the back of his skull as a small whimper shook his chest. “You feel-” his words were choked, “Hot. And wet. And so damn tight I can’t breathe.”

“Good?” She wondered brushing her lips across his forehead and down his nose, enjoying how he moved under her, responding to her naturally.

“So, so, good, baby.”

Erika hid her proud smile into his lips, kissing him deeply.

“I will go faster now, is that ok?”

“Please,”

Erika proceeded to ride him, bucking her hips up and down his cock with increasing speed, following the pleasure quickly mounting into her lower abdomen and spreading through her as he stroked her most sensitive spot inside of her. She didn’t care about being quiet anymore. On the contrary, she was as vocal as possible. She wanted him to hear exactly what he was doing to her.

She held onto his shoulders as her pleasure only grew, making her fingers claw. She dug her nails into his flesh, willingly leaving marks across his back.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so good,” she cooed to his ear, enjoying the little noises he made in response.

“I am so close,” he whispered sounding so desperate it sent her feral.

“Do you want to come, pretty boy?” She wandered making him look at her.

Kyle nodded, letting her see how the pleasure of being lost inside of her shaped his face.

Erika pulled his hair, making him bend his head backwards and riding him mercilessly, determined to take what she wanted. Every drop of it. “Then let it go,”

He wrapped his arms around her, squeezing his fingers on every inch of skin he could grab. He pulled down on her hips, burying himself as deep inside of her as humanly possible.

“Kyle,” she welcomed him with a moan, letting her head fall backwards. She felt him in her stomach. He choked the breath out of her chest and she loved every second of it. To the point, she started wondering how she could have got back to normality.

Kyle quivered underneath her. His breath was shaken and broken, as he erratically mumbled her name, chanting it like a prayer. And then she felt him get stiffer as pleasure shook him. He found his release quickly and violently, suffocating a loud moan into the crook of her neck and letting himself go in between her arms.

Erika felt him unload inside of her; she felt every inch of him shake in waves of pleasure, that crossed straight into her flesh, pushing her over the same edge. Her pleasure caught both by surprise. She didn’t count on coming. Not the first time anyway. Instead, her orgasm mounted violently inside of her just a moment after him. Erika came calling his name in a soft whimper, praising him and cradling him into her arms. Her quivering body squeezed him into overstimulation, making him extremely reactive to her spasms, as he gifted her with small, pretty whines, not daring to push her away but letting her ride her high.

“Fuck,” she whispered, trying to catch her breath, “you are pretty good for a good, little, virgin boy.” Erika pressed grateful kisses on his forehead and cheeks, not hiding her proud, lovestruck smile.

“I can be even better,” Kyle looked up at her, so devoted she felt his gaze into her heart. His hands cupped her face as he pulled her into a soft kiss. “You know,” he began, stroking her softly, “what I feel for you, don’t you?”

Erika had to fight against the need to hear him say it. She knew. She knew so well. Her heart sang for him. She didn’t need his words to know that if she was ready to fall he’d be there to catch her. But she couldn’t afford to hear it. Erika pressed her fingers on his lips, gently shutting him up. “Whatever, you know? Don’t say it, Kyle.”

“Why?”

“Because if you say it, I’ll have to say that I do too. And that won’t be fair.”

“We just had sex. You were my first. And somehow this is worse?”

“No. Not worse,” Erika kissed his lips softly, “I can deal with sex. I know sex. I don’t know feelings. Don’t say it, Kyle, please.” She sounded so desperate.

“Ok,” the look he sent her was just as intense, “Whatever.”

Later, that same night, Kyle laid heavily on her, fast asleep. He passed out pretty quickly after their third round. Which was another surprise he had in store for her, just like the amount of pleasure he was able to give her. He was a quick, eager learner.

She wouldn’t have forgotten that night easily. Surprisingly, the good sex her little virgin pretty boy gave her wasn’t the only reason.

Erika was lost in the quietness surrounding them. Time had slowed down. She listened to his soft snoring and softly played with his hair with one hand and stroked his back with the other. His head was nested on her chest, arms caging her under him.

It was pretty good, she thought. It was something she so desperately wanted to get used to.

Maybe, she should have revised her entire plan. Maybe, she could have stood up to her brother and faced the consequence of accepting to be in love with that sweet boy. It could have worked. She could, maybe, deserve to be happy. If only-

Erika brushed her lips softly on Kyle’s forehead. “I love you,” she whispered ever so softly. A secret no one else could know.

The bright sun flooded the room. The morning was well started as birds sang outside, traffic flowed on the road by the hotel and people walked up and down the rooms, closing doors and dragging suitcases.

But the same couldn’t be said for the occupants of the bed. Erika was oblivious. Lost in her lazy slumber, drowning in soft pillows and even softer arms. She had woken a couple of times already but had decided to roll over and ignore responsibilities, only finding Kyle’s arms ready to hug her and pull her in a deeper, warmer hug. Why would she ever consider waking up when the alternative was that sweet?

A singing maid pushed her wonky trolley through the corridor. Erika vaguely heard it creak as it moved. But it was when it got slammed carelessly against the wall just outside her door that she was finally startled awake.

As Erika jumped up, Kyle too moved, rolling on his back and taking a deep breath in. Senses came back slowly to her at first; she had a second to recollect her memories, the room looked just as messy as she was used to having it, but she knew she wasn’t home, she was in a hotel somewhere in England. Essex maybe? Or Suffolk, it didn’t matter much. Then Erika was hit by a massive headache that weighed her head down. She felt it in her teeth. Behind her eyes. Under her ears. Into her fingertips and toes. Her stomach twisted.

“Ugh,” she hissed, letting herself fall back on the mattress, covering her eyes with her arm.

“’orning,” Kyle mumbled, stretching on the mattress next to her. “Did you sleep well?”

It took her a second longer to remember everything else. Mark. Kyle. The sex. The feelings. Panic started to set inside of her, making adrenaline fire up in her veins, giving her the familiar fight-or-flight feeling she was so used to dealing with running.

“Shit,” she kicked her sheets off, jumping off the bed looking for something, anything, to wear to cover herself up.

Kyle sat up, frowning, rubbing his hands on his face.

Erika took a moment to look at him, not even realising she had stopped only to think how pretty he was just awake, skin kissed by the sun. Or maybe it was everything they shared that made her want to drop everything else, slip back into bed and let him know how much she had no intention of letting him go, ever.

“What is it?” He wondered, leaning his head to the side, puzzled.

Erika got shaken back into reality and went back to her hasted movements. “You weren’t supposed to sleep here all night,” she warned directly looking at him.

“OK? So?”

“Get up,” Erika threw his t-shirt back at him. “You went M.I.A. all night, you know what that means? Mark has probably lost his mind by now.”

Kyle shook his head. “I don’t care, I am an adult. He’ll be fine.”

“No. He won’t.” Erika shook her head, “Trust me, Kyle. He won’t. Not about this.”

Kyle shook himself awake, trying to connect her words to a deeper meaning, even though his face remained only puzzled. “Slow down,” he hinted, moving to the edge of the bed to grab her by the arm and stop her erratic moving around. Kyle pulled her closer to him, and, against her better judgment, she let him. “Explain what’s going on to me, please?”

“I am kicking you out.” Erika sighed sadly. “And Mark can never know this happened,” she pointed in between them, “He won’t forgive me, ever. He doesn’t want me to be with you. He made it pretty clear last night.”

“Is that what happened at the pub? Why you left?”

“Yeah,”

“Erika,” Kyle tried to catch her gaze, “I don’t care what Mark thinks, I want to be with you.”

“No. You don’t. I have a past. I did terrible things. Mark knows every single one of those things. He knows better what’s good for me. You might be good for me, there’s hardly a person you wouldn’t be good for. But I am not good for you. He’s right on that.”

“Do I get an opinion about this?”

Erika looked up into his eyes, silently begging him to stop. “Please, Kyle, don’t go there.”

“Hey, hey,” Kyle cupped her face, making her look at him, trying to scoop her out of her panic. “I don’t care about all of that. Whatever you were before I met you won’t change the girl I fell for now. You don’t want to tell your brother? Fine by me. Just tell me you are ok.”

“I’m,” Erika was ready to slip off his hold and yet, somehow, there was something in his gaze that hooked her. “I’m ok,” she whispered leaning in to give him a quick kiss, “But you need to go.”

“Ok,” Kyle still pulled a cheeky smile, pulling her into a kiss. Then, he hopped off the bed and back into his clothes. “I’ll see you at breakfast?”

“Food. God, yes. Let’s hope we’ll be on time for it.”

He still hung by the door, looking back at her. His lips were bent in a stupid smile, his gaze, as he looked at her, was completely smitten. “For what is worth, I am glad we did what we did.”

She stood by a forked road; she was looking at her options and felt like both led to ruin. One represented something sweeter, that would have hurt so much more when everything would have gone up in flames. The other was jumping into the void now.

Erika was well aware of what she had been telling herself all night. She knew what she was supposed to do. What she thought was the best course of action. And yet, now, standing there, she was just a lovestruck girl, looking at a boy she liked so much her chest hurt only thinking about it. It was hard to breathe. She told herself she would have been able to shake herself back to normal. She was convinced she could have scratched that itch for him and then go at breaking his heart as if nothing mattered. Except she lied.

Her itch to scratch was only becoming bigger. About a lifetime size, right now. How would one shake that?

“Me too,” she admitted, pulling a soft smile. “Now go, you idiot,” she chuckled, hinting at the door. “I’ll see you later.”

As soon as Kyle left the room and Erika was left alone, her despair and torment took over her, stripping her of every good feeling and intention that was giving her a shred of hope.

She wasn’t going to be able to make him happy. Maybe for a few weeks, it would have worked, but not for long. She wasn’t enough for him. She would have never been enough, and when Kyle realised that too, it would have been the end of her. She was addicted to how he made her feel, now, because he didn’t know who she had been before and made her feel so good about everything she was and did. But what about when he’d look at her with regrets and resentment, realising he had made a mistake trusting someone like her?

Erika forced herself to shove those thoughts to the side and got in the shower, doing her best to delay the panic attack she felt mounting into her chest.

Breathing in the steam and getting lost in the soft smell of her fresh shower gel that always reminded her of a shower took in the evening after a long summer day spent at the beach was reassuring. She let the hot water run across her skin. It was a compromise between the sadness of washing away the traces of the night she spent with Kyle and the relaxation her tensed nerves found.

By the time she was done with the shower and brushed her teeth, it was almost ten o’clock and Erika had barely time to dress up and ran out of her room if she wanted to catch the breakfast. She needed it. She realised that besides a few chips and the tequila she drunk last night, she had been fasting since lunch the day before. She needed to eat some solid food, to drink a coffee and possibly some orange juice. God, she hoped to find some.

Erika entered the restaurant on a trot, welcoming the familiar smell of the breakfast canteen every hotel seemed to have with a soft smile. Most tables were being cleaned up. Most food from the buffet was gone, like the fresh pastries. But she made it. Nothing else mattered. She could see the filter coffee pot on the side and thought “life is good”.

She turned over, looking into the room, finding both Mark and Kyle sat at a table by the window. The table was a mess. Mark sat in front of Kyle, he had several stacked-up plates in front of him, already empty, probably from a while, and was enjoying some coffee, while Kyle was deep into his full breakfast. They were chitchatting joyfully, big smiles on both their faces. And Erika took a moment to just enjoy seeing them like that. She wished she had her camera on her. They were both so beautiful and without a worry in the world.

Her chest ached.

As soon as she moved, Kyle caught a glimpse of her and his eyes didn’t leave her. His cheeks immediately blushed softly as his bright eyes glimmered. There was something, in his gaze, that couldn’t be mistaken. He looked like someone who’d seen her naked. He gifted her a large smile as she approached the table.

“Hey,”

“Good morning,” Erika avoided eye contact, pushing her damp hair behind her ear as if that could mask the guilty look she had on her face. She knew Mark was looking at them, she felt his eyes suspiciously moving on her.

“Saved you the last croissant,” Kyle pushed the little plate with the golden pastry cooked to perfection closer to her.

Erika wanted to smack him, and at the same time, everything she wanted to do was to kiss him and express her utmost devotion to his sweet concern. She had to bite her tongue not to. Not when Mark was there.

They had no chance of trying to hide anything from her brother.

“Thanks,” again, she ignored Kyle as much as she could. Clearing her voice, she finally looked at Mark, finding him waiting. He read right through her. Erika immediately looked away, regretting every decision she took in the last twenty-four hours. “Ok, then, I’ll go grab myself some coffee.”

She turned over, leaving them both and went hiding at the buffet counter, weighing her options.

She could have made a run for it; the door was just to her left. Maybe there was a way to never face the consequences of her actions. Cowardice, for sure. But also, she felt it could have been easy to pack her stuff, drop her job and disappear. After all, how many times did she think about it before?

Erika made herself a glass of orange juice and gulped it down and then made another.

No. That was ridiculous. She could never do that.

Fake even when brought up in front of the crushing evidence that she was, in fact, in love with Kyle and nothing could erase what they did last night? Yes. That was better.

Erika poured herself a cup of black filter coffee, wondering if it would have tasted just as disgusting as any other hotel breakfast buffet filter coffee.

“The fuck is up with you two!?”

Mark’s sudden interruption startled her enough that she almost dropped her cups. “Shit, mate, you scared me.”

He casually poured himself a cup of coffee, even though Erika suspected that was just an excuse to get closer to her. “Don’t deflect, sis. What did you do?”

“Nothing,” she lied, shrugging.

Mark grumbled, shaking his head, so disappointed in her he didn’t even need to say anything to hurt her. “The way he looks at you it’s not nothing. And since when you are fucking shy!? C’mon, cut the crap.”

“What do you want me to say!? If I look at him you come at me because I do. And if I don’t you still-”

“Hey,” Mark pointed a finger in her face, “you think I am an idiot? I know you. What did you do!? Are you trying to stand up to me or something, playing with him in the process?”

Erika put her cups down and decided there and then that she was done. She wasn’t a coward who’d run away so easily or ignored the situation forever. Not anymore.

Anger flooded straight through her, firing up her nervous system, and making her squeeze her fists. “You think so little of me?”

“I think I know you. I think I’ve seen enough of your little whims and games. I think I don’t want to see you play with him and end up ruining him, just like you do with everything.”

“Mark,” Erika gasped, hit deeply by his words, shaking her head. “Do you hear yourself?”

“Can you blame me, sis?”

“You are supposed to be in my corner,” she was the one pointing at him now, openly confronting him. “You are supposed to support me.”

“Not with Kyle, I don’t. We both know you’ll get tired of him so quickly. As soon as you are done getting your ego fed by how differently he treats you, you’ll go back to seeking the thrill like you always do. Just leave him alone.”

“Say it,” she hissed. “Say how you think a good-for-nothing, junky, slut like me will never deserve someone like him. I fucking dare you.”

Mark huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’ll never say that to you.”

“Well, you already did. You are thinking about it. Might as well use the real words you are thinking, uh? Have the guts to go all the way, at least.”

“Fine,”

Erika gasped, feeling the air being taken out of her chest. She hoped until the end he wouldn’t agree with her. She gave him the benefit of the doubt, grasping on her last shred of trust in her brother, that he’d never go so low. And yet, she was wrong.

Of all the people in her life, even Kyle, Mark was the one most capable of destroying her.

And he just did.

“Fuck you,” Erika fought back her tears, not intentioned to give him the satisfaction to see how deeply he just hurt her. “Anything that will happen now it’s your fault. I want you to know. I want you to feel it. And regret it.”

“Erika,”

The second he tried to hold her, she pushed him back, spitting in his face. “No. You fucking bastard. You don’t get to annihilate me and shit all over everything I have done in my life, the good and the bad, in one minute, and then feel better about it.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean? What are you going to do?”

“Break his fucking heart for one. I could have made him happy. Maybe,” this time she didn’t hide her tears. “But you had to happen to me. I hate you. And then I am going to shoot some heroin,” Erika smiled maniacally, “Hope to die in the process and stay on your fucking conscience forever,”

Pushing Mark off again, Erika stormed out, too shaken to even consider staying, too distraught to remember about her hunger or dehydration. Who cared about those things? They weren’t important anymore.

She needed to think. She needed space. She needed a smoke so bad.

“Erika, wait,”

“Kyle, get fucked,” she hissed, not stopping her march through the lobby.

“Baby, hold on,” he caught up on her easily and tried to grab her, only for Erika to immediately fight him too.

“What!? What do you want from me, Kyle!?”

Her harsh tone clearly hurt him. Part of her wanted to apologise and hold him and let him hold her and give her all the love and support he had in him. But the rest of her didn’t allow it. She wouldn’t have allowed anyone to hurt her like Mark did. She couldn’t trust anyone, ever. It would have made her only vulnerable. Weak.

Hurting Kyle got rid of the problem. He was the only person left who saw something in her. She sure didn’t anymore. And hurting him would have hurt Mark, just like he deserved.

It didn’t matter how much it would have hurt her. She was already in hell by that point, reliving everything she had done, everything she was and wondering why she ever tried to become better when there was no chance for her.

“I need to make sure you are ok.”

“Well, I am not ok. Do you know why? Because of you. Do you want to know what!?” She burst out, “I didn’t want to say anything before because I didn’t want to hurt you, but I want nothing more to do with you. We had sex, it was fun, thanks, I needed it. And now I got what I wanted and you lost your shine to me.”

“You don’t mean that, I know you don’t.”

“Watch me meaning it.” She turned over, walking out of the hotel, only to grumble when she realised Kyle was still there. “Stop following me around like a lost puppy,”

“Erika, stop for a second, will you?”

“Why?” She did stop. And she did face him. Ready to regret everything she was going to do from there to a minute time. “So that I can look you in the eye and tell you I don’t want to see you anymore? I’ve got everything you had to give and I am done now?” Erika’s conviction in the terrible things she was saying was so true all her lies seemed real. Even to her, for a second. Enough for her not to feel her chest being ripped apart by her own hands. The world was going up in flames around her and she was ready to dance in it. “I don’t need a lost little boy who still has to learn everything in my life. I need myself a man.”

“I-” he stumbled in his own words, genuinely hurt now.

“Make everyone a favour and go back to your silly little life, playing pretend on rings in small gyms in forsaken places around the country, and leave me alone,” she dismissed him turning around, digging into her hoody pocket in search of her cigarettes. “Go back to Mark.”

She knew it took him some time to decide to retreat back inside and when Kyle finally did leave her alone, Erika felt free to let her pain slash through her. Her shoulders bent under the weight of the rubbles of her crumbling world. Hope was lost. And she found some sort of comfort in her despair. It was something familiar that she welcomed like an old friend.

She cried quietly, hiding behind a corner, finishing her cigarette, hanging desperately on the nicotine fix like it was her only lifeline. When she was done, she immediately lit herself another and waited. She wasn’t enjoying it. She wasn’t taking the moment in and soaking under the morning sun, enjoying the warm air smelling of spring. The only thing she wanted to do was to run. She was only taking a second to gather her nerves up and make a plan.

Maybe it was time to disappear. Maybe it was time to go home. Who did she think to fool? She wasn’t so strong as she thought. She would have never escaped her past. It would have always ended up that way.

[uzurimisery]

apologies in advance for what will inevitably be rambly and incoherent but i just read all of what you’ve posted for ‘the death of an actor’ and !!!!! oh my ~fucking~ god ✨ i am literally on the floor, i’m absolutely in love with how you write corio. the way you seamlessly switch between his pov and the readers is so addicting to read. the spice is spicing, and maybe this is a weird thing to say but it feels so fucking accurate. all his angst and fears of being vulnerable ultimately losing out to his lust and desire/need to get what he wants! you went so hard with that, literally slayed it! and the cliffhanger at the end of ch 3!!! it’s soooo opportunistic and cunning and on brand and i’m so deeply invested it’s insane. i’m obsessed. thank you for sharing it with me and everyone else on here 😽🫶 i look forward to reading more from you 💗

Please ramble whenever!! I love hearing people's thoughts on my work,

Like Dr. Gaul said, “Control is a fickle thing.” The moment we lose control of our personal lives is when our feelings become too intense, too heavy. When they strain at your seams, tension unbearably painful, we snap, unable to reign them, the seams ripped. A force that we cannot stop sweeps away us. In moments like that, we play ourselves and any play at control, any act we had, exposed and dissectible to a crowd. Any attempts to go on with the show forever have an aftertaste and are unable to run as effectively as they did before. An expose of the fragility of our attempts to command every aspect of our lives.

And for all of Coriolanus’ feelings, breaking the seam stitch by stitch, messy and complicated from the forced proximity he cannot escape, he will always be a man who needs to feel in control. I wanted to explore that thought with someone he can’t remove from the picture like Lucy Gray, who hungered for control and power just like him. Someone who could not only see his game but play it themselves.

 After all, don’t we all want control over our lives? To reach the highest highs?

[sutoikku]

uchiha  clan   and    fire.

        fire (   &&  the elemental nature lightning which I headcanon to be derivative of fire and linked to it -- )   is a source of strength   &&  power for sasuke.  it’s familiar ,  a  reminder of  his heritage and every that was once marginally happy in his life .  It’s dangerous ,  untamable , destructive in tendencies  like sasuke and an reoccurring theme in his arc throughout . 

       from the creation of the clan ,  the uchiha are deeply affiliated with the nature (   and even incorporate it into their lifestyle  /  clan  rituals   )  and were probably the first to manipulate chakra into fire jutsus .  Fire lies as a deeply symbolic to the uchiha which sasuke grew up with. From the clan’s symbol   &&   name being of a paper fan serving as reminder that the uchiha are the ones that would fan the flames of the will of fire even  stronger  &&  brighter for konoha    .  The uchiha even implement the great fireball technique as a coming of age rite  ,   with members not being considered true adults until they learned to perform it . Fugaku emphasizes this , and serves as a great burden to sasuke as he couldn’t perform it outright in comparison to the prodigy that itachi was touted to be  .  It’s a source of pride for a young Uchiha to successfully perform this jutsu .  sasuke does eventually learn to properly do this jutsu through gruesome training on his own and receives a compliment from his father much to his surprise .  Weddings  &&  birthdays are also celebrated with such rituals.  Fire dances and ceremonies are innate traditions to the Uchiha

       On the subject of core beliefs of the uchiha   ,  sasuke grew up worshiping aspects  of  nature    , and held a respect for everything around him.  the uchiha believes in a singular divinity, or sacred essence, that manifests in multiple forms: rocks, trees, rivers, animals, objects, places and even the elements  (  i.e  fire  )   .  This remained pertinent in their affiliation with in their practice of shintoism.   Fugaku ,  especially as head of the uchiha clan ,    &&  Mikoto   harped on the important of respect and were militant about these core values . This is evident in the way he handles animals , from his hawks and snake summons to the ninja cats he frequently visited with itachi in his youth. Animals were far better than humans , and there was a reverence for them that he didn’t hold for mankind ( who he thought were intrinsically despotic as he grew up ) .  

        the creation of fire is also linked to the many gods that were worshiped. notably , Kagutsuchi  (  who was the god of fire in shintoism and son of Izanami and Izanagi   --  of whom the sharingan’s technique was aptly named after   ) .  Sasuke’s religious beliefs as an uchiha were subsided after the massacre of his family , finding no reason to carry them on .  The trauma and emotional damage that was inflicted brought an end to any reason for sasuke to believe in any higher being . this lent itself into sasuke putting belief in gaining power  &&  trusting only himself . a wheel of cynicism and coldness /  sasuke is now agnostic or an atheist (  much unlike his predecessors who valued tradition )  . 

          With  that  being  said  about his connection to elemental fire ,    even his attire is heavily reliant on the fact that Sasuke comes from a long line of katon users.  the arm guards he’s worn since childhood are actually fire resistant guards  &&   bandages  rather than a simple  fashion statement from dealing with fire jutsus since a young age   ,   meant to keep his skin safe from extreme temperatures ( though his hands are  still littered with fire   && lightning fractal burn  scars from executing them so much -- namely lichtenberg scars from the electrical discharge from chidori  that kakashi taught him .   )  without proper protection ,  these jutsus would exhibit much worst adverse effects .  wearing protective ninja gear serves as a habit that is carried on into his adulthood remaining constant . 

         sasuke  (   due to his affinity for katon   )  also intrinsically runs hotter than other people who possess  other elements  or chakras . His body temperature spikes higher than the average human can normally withstand  &&  isn’t all that odd considering chakra is kneaded into flames and expelled from the body to perform complex ninjutsus. People would consider themselves to be febrile  &&  sick but it was always the norm for the uchiha folk . If you touch him ,   he radiates a certain subtle warmth in close proximity .    in reference to other sources of heat ,     Sasuke can eat plenty of spicy or hot foods  --   and actually enjoys them  in juxtaposition to his aversion to sweets . The heat doesn’t bother him in the slightest though when it comes to weather , he prefers the cold   /  dreary weather like thunderstorms  .  It counterbalances the fire nature in him and brings a sort of comfort .  

[silversatoru]

hi!! i just started followed you and i love your works :)) could i request a smutty fushiguro megumi drabble/fic where he realizes he has a daddy kink?

daddy?

a/n: hi you are so sweet thank you!!! n the idea of megumi realizing he has a daddy kink is so fucking cute lmao i have been losing my mind over this idea,,,

fushiguro megumi x f!reader

synopsis: you call a classmate daddy in order to smuggle some homework answers and accidentally awaken a full blown daddy kink in your usually shy boyfriend

tags/warnings: daddy kink (obviously), mild manhandling, fingering

w/c: 1.6k

you really thought people would be more mature when you got to college,, or at least you hoped they would be. unfortunately, you’ve never been more wrong.

you had the most annoying busy-work assignment due tomorrow — and of course it wasn’t hard, but it was just so damn time consuming and you didn’t feel like doing it. but this is where the class group chat you were in comes in handy; you planned to ask if anyone had the answers but someone else had already beat you to it.

and then some cocky asshole who did the homework agreed to send the answers under one condition: he wanted someone to call him daddy. it was so stupid and horribly immature but this wasn’t any cocky asshole; it was a smart cocky asshole, and his answers were definitely reliable.

now, you weren’t a desperate woman, but this homework was a real pain in the ass and daddy was nothing but a word — so why not?

pls send the answers daddy, your thumbs danced across your phone and hit send before you could even think twice. a few moments later a picture of all the assignment answers came through the chat — success.

and now you could go enjoy a night out with your friends instead of wasting your time on that pointless shit. your boyfriend megumi had been waiting outside for you in his car, ready to pick you up and go to a house party a few streets up. neither of you were big party people but when your best friends nobara and yuuji were the ones throwing the party, you were obligated to attended.

megumi seemed a little off when you first hopped in the passengers seat, his facial features even more stoic than they usually were. you tried starting conversation a few times, but it was to no avail. something was clearly bothering him but he was refusing to talk about it — and then it finally clicked in your head:

“oh my god! this is about the daddy thing isn’t it?” you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing when you realized megumi was in that group chat too.

his eyes rolling in annoyance and his continued silence was all you needed to confirm your theory.

“come on, gumi, i was just getting the assignment answers so we could have fun tonight,” you pouted.

“yeah i know, i just don’t really like you saying that kind of stuff to other people,” he finally spoke up, his eyebrows scrunched together in distaste.

“fine, you’re right, i shouldn’t have done it. but it’s not like you have a fucking daddy kink or anything, so relax a little,” you let out a sigh and leaned back into the seat.

and he silently agreed with you — there was no way that he had a daddy kink, right?

the rest of the car ride was mildly awkward but some of the tension between the two of you had finally settled. you wrapped your hand in his as the two of you entered the house, greeting a couple friends on the way in.

after grabbing some drinks and hanging around the entrance for a few minutes you released megumi’s hand from your own.

“i’m gonna go find nobara quick, okay? try to relax and enjoy yourself a little bit,” you flashed him a smile and then stood up on your toes so you could whisper the next part into his ear, “see you in a few, daddy”.

you figured that if the word bothered him so much when you said it to other people, you’d like see how he’d react when you said it to him. and it took everything in you not to burst into a fit of laughter when you saw the stunned look across his face.

you were laughing, but megumi found your comment to be anything but funny. his heart rate quickened and suddenly his jeans felt tight and — oh fuck, maybe he did have a daddy kink.

he grabbed your wrist and yanked you down the hall, pulling you into a guest bedroom and locking the door behind him. you couldn’t contain yourself when you started to connect the dots — his shocked expression and the obvious boner in his pants made it very clear.

“holy shit, gumi, you do have a daddy kink don’t you?” you giggled, reaching up to wrap your hands around his neck.

he gave you an annoyed and embarrassed look, as if he was ashamed of it or something. but you couldn’t let him feel like that, not when the idea excited you just as much as it excited him.

“you want me to call you daddy? hm? moan it into your ears and beg for you? we could try it right now; that is why you drug me into this room, right?” you caressed the side of his flushed face, his eyes getting darker the more you spoke.

he gave you a quick nod and then the two of you collided together, messy kisses being scattered from your lips to your collarbone and everywhere in between. megumi was slow to start but once you had him going there was no holding him back. he broke off the kiss after a few heated minutes and before you could even catch your breath he gave you a rough shove that sent you falling to the bed.

he stared down at you with a brand new fire in his eyes, and it was fucking hot. if you knew calling someone random guy daddy would have awakened this in him, you would have done it forever ago.

in a matter of minutes his skin was hot against yours, your clothes nothing but a heap on the floor. his kisses were sloppy and rough, his head clouded with lust as he relished in his newfound turn-on. he wanted to have complete control over you, he wanted you to beg him for everything, and he wanted to hear you whimper the word daddy over and over.

he snaked two of his long fingers down to your clit and rubbed a few rough circles that made your legs twitch in anticipation. they then lowered to your entrance, his eyes widening when he felt the amount of slick that had already accumulated. you felt a warm redness flush across your face in slight embarrassment — it was kind of pathetic how quickly his shift in attitude went straight to between your legs.

knowing that you liked his newfound dominance sent a whole new wave of confidence coursing through megumi. his usually gentle fingers slid through your entrance with an entirely new force, causing your core to clench and your breath to catch in your throat. a disgusting array of squelches and moans quickly filled the air, your hands desperately grasping onto megumi’s body. he was delving his fingers deep into your caverns at a completely merciless pace and it was earning him the prettiest moans from your mouth.

“feels so good, gumi,” you mumbled as he had you squirming and whining underneath him.

“no- no i want you to say the other thing,” he pressed his forehead to yours and let his eyes rest shut as he savored every last one of your beautiful sounds.

you’d gotten so caught up in the pure bliss that was megumi’s touch that you’d completely forgotten about how this all started — the daddy kink. but now that he reminded you, you were gonna lean into it hard. you wanted to put on only the best performance for your wonderful boyfriend.

“your fingers feel so good, daddy, but your cock would feel better,” you cooed in his ear, sending electricity down his spine and straight to his dick.

“is that what you want?” he leaned back and opened his eyes to look at you, sliding his sticky fingers out of your soaking cunt.

“yes, daddy, please,” you begged for him, “i want you to fuck me”.

you could have swore you saw his dick twitch and his eyes get wide at your words, but you hardly had time to think about it before his two slimy fingers were shoved into your mouth. you shameless sucked them clean, running your tongue around and between them while megumi used his other hand to position himself at your entrance.

you flinched at the slight pain when he sheathed himself inside you — your body taking it’s time to adjust to the size. sure his fingers felt good, but you felt so much fucking fuller with his cock stretching your walls. the way he thrusted stuffed you so perfectly that you could barely even form words, your eyes rolling back into your head.

the two of you had sex on many occasions, but there was fresh intensity and passion flowing between you this time. your fingernails were digging claw marks into his arms and you could barely contain the array of moans leaking from your lips. between your noises and the creaking off the bed you were grateful for the loud music blaring through the house.

megumi even manhandled you a bit more than usual — tossing you around and pushing you into the positions he wanted you in. if he managed to work up the confidence he’d order you around too, and you’d just respond with whines and the occasional “yes, daddy”. the phrase was simple but every time those words left your pretty mouth tiny fireworks went off in his head.

when he murmured the words come for me, you were hopeless — a pitiful, whimpering mess who couldn’t do anything but mumble incoherent phrases all stemming from the word daddy.

it was the best fucking orgasm of your life — and it was all because you’d been too lazy to do your homework earlier.

[chil2de]

Your sharing a bed with the JJK men hc's were incredible 😩 special mentions for Megumi's bed head, Nanami being a secret cuddle bug, and Yuuta having to drink both iced coffees (that fucking sent me fjdndnfd I could picture it so clearly).

You're super talented so could I, er, possible get a NSFW version? 👀 💳💥💥💥💳💳💥💳💥

Thank you so much 🥺💕

hello anonie!!! thank you dear i’m so glad you liked them!! please the credit card emojis had me cackling LMFAOOOO you really made my whole day out here!!!(THE ICED COFFEE WAS MY FAVOURITE PART TOO)

well i managed to hit the max amount of characters allowed in a tumblr post with five characters alone so i’m going to have to split this up into several posts. it just kinda happened ig

characters in this post: itadori yuuji, gojo satoru, okkotsu yuuta, fushiguro toji (megumi was supposed to be here but i had to reserve him for next post😔)

this work is nsfw. if you’re new here, please read my disclaimer before proceeding. thank you and enjoy!

based off of this post

itadori

- itadori would prob be a ‘deer in the headlights’ if you woke him up in the middle of the night

- but after that? shit, he’s so nice to you. so kind and generous for his baby girl. whether he’s fucking you ‘cause he thinks you might be able to sleep after an orgasm or there’s just an incessant desire for him- doesn’t really matter all that much to itadori. he loves you either way :)

- gets horny so easily LMFAO

- would 100% dick you down if you asked him to and i like to think that he still keeps his really sweet personality during sex cause aaaa he would be so soft and reassuring

- hardcore dom yuuji sounds sexy as all hell but let’s be real… this man won’t kill a fly and apologises for stepping on ants. only exception being angry sex but overall reserving hard dom for sukuna :)

you pepper tiny kisses onto itadori’s face, treating him with the utmost care like handling fine china. his skin feels so soft against your lips, and he smells very faintly of milky soap. there’s some traces of brand cologne on his shirt, as well as his natural scent.

“yuuujiii-“ you coo, blowing air very gently. when he doesn’t stir, you run your fingertips through a bundle of his cotton candy tainted hair. it evokes a reaction from him, so you continue to press him.

“y-uuuu-ji!”

after a few moments, itadori lets out a soft whine before grumbling incoherent blabber. “i won’t eat the pineapple! kugisaki will scream at me!”

you giggle before prodding him again, when finally he relents and jolts awake, eyes wide and mouth slightly parted at how close your face is to his.

“‘s it morning yet?” he wrinkles his nose, stifling a yawn. you emit a hum in thought before wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling you into him. itadori squeaks in surprise when he feels you latch your lips onto his neck, suckling and carefully breaking the bonds underneath his sensitive skin. his moan comes out groggy, still laced with sleep.

“that drives me crazy, you know that, right?” itadori laughs, though his voice comes as a wobble.

“i know. and they look so good on you too, hm?” you giggle, caressing one hand from his neck and then down to the hem of his shirt. your fingertips flutter against his bare skin and he shivers physically and audibly. you smooth your palm flat along his chest, dragging your nails carefully against his muscles.

“kinda.. wanna.. go to.. sleep.. but i don’t.. wanna fall asleep…” itadori mumbles against his pillow. the fabric muffles most of it, but there’s a strain in his voice that leads you to believe he’s moaning lightly. guess after sukuna ripped his heart out, this area hasn’t been quite the same, huh?

“so? then go to sleep, yuuji. i’ll be fine-“ “-no way! i gotta take care of you”

“so why don’t you?”

“‘m going to! i was asleep just half a minute ago!”

“and besides-“

he shifts himself up into a sitting position, leaning his back against the headrest. itadori opens his arms, motioning for you to crawl on top of him. without any haste, you clamber over his built frame, ghosting just over the print of his hard dick.

“not that i mind but- we did, you know, in the morning already-“ “oh, shit, sorry- it’s totally fine if you don’t want t-“ “-just messing with you!”

itadori pulls your neck down and gifts you with the same treatment you were offering him earlier. his tongue is hot and wet against your skin and you can already feel the precipitation forming at the back of your knees. calloused yet tender hands smooth around your waist and he smooths his palms over your shoulder blades.

after itadori’s satisfied with the mark he left, you can’t help but groan a little into his mouth when his lips suddenly claim yours. he drinks you up, relying solely on your taste like he’s drowning and you’re the air he needs.

itadori takes his sweet time cherishing you, or rather it’s still his state of half slumber, but you can feel a dull ache prick your abdomen. you scratch up his shirt, motioning for him to take it off. you’re unsure what comes over you, but shit, you don’t want him- you need him.

“heyheyhey, ‘s okay. don’t worry, i got you.”

“i’ll take care of you.”

“just relax, okay? i got this.” he only coos with sweet reassurances, peppering small kisses and handling you with the utmost precision.

you whimper, balancing your palms flat against his abdomen for additional support as you sink down onto itadori’s cock. he lets out a hum of content, forehead bumping against yours as he allows you to adjust.

“you good?” he murmurs after a few moments, capturing a few strands of your hair in between his fingertips. you nod meekly and itadori hisses out a breathy exhale. he’s sure that if he goes rough as shit you might end up more broken than being able to sleep, so he screws his eyes shut and exhales to maintain his composure.

blazing hot lips scrape against your ear, and his voice comes out in a husky tone.

“tell me how you want it.”

by the lords of everything and all that is holy, itadori only chants the same phrase over and over in his mind. it’s a miracle that he’s able to think straight with all the blood rushing to his cock. he’s more than happy to take it slow, reward you with slow and long strokes while he showers you with high praises. but he can’t ignore the twitch that he experiences when he envisions that pretty lil fucked out face of yours, all messy and ruined for him.

you mutter that you have no preference, that you don’t care because anything he’ll do for you is perfect, and it only gives him a beaming smile at your words.

itadori grabs the scrunched up ball of his shirt that he was wearing before ripping the fabric into half with his bare teeth. you watch his eyebrows perk when he notices how fucking hot you just found that, evident with the way your walls fluttered around him.

“here, babe.”

you part your lips and he stuffs the fabric into your mouth, there’s a little bit of excess hanging out, but he reminds you that you look sexy as hell either way, on top of his dick like that with your hands on his chest, legs spread, face flushed and ready for him.

“don’t wanna be wakin’ anyone else up.”

yuuta

this man is about to end my whole career

yuuta wouldn’t bring it up on his own accord just because… respect.. and he doesn’t want to pressure you or make you uncomfortable into doing things you’re not ready to.

it’s kind of a gray area for him because he doesn’t relish the idea of bringing up sensitive and/or extremely awkward topics so he really said ‘i’ll leave it up to future me’s problem’

but holy shit. let me absolutely tell you.

the second you hint at it? anything of the sorts? 0 to 100. he is FREAKY you cannot tell me he’s innocent just LOOK at the man

can make you scream with ease. all that practice he’s been doing with handling katanas? he doesn’t need his dick to make you cum. will gladly lick up your leftover juices and remark with a smile on his face how ‘it tastes good, angel’

similarly to itadori, i think he would be sweet and patient when asking for your preferences, etc, but after that you’re gonna have to find something to bite onto

“and? what’d you tell her?” yuuta remarks from over his fanned out deck of three cards. his gaze flickers to you as he awaits a response before using his index and middle finger to lay down a +4 card.

“red, by the way.”

you huff and glare at your boyfriend, picking up four cards and attempting to hold them in such a way that they don’t all fall and rattle to the floor. truth be told? you’re seriously a sore fuckin’ loser. you don’t know how he does it, but you’ve never managed to win a game against yuuta.

“i told maki-san that it’s her problem, not mine. if she’s so pressed about people taking them, why does she keep noodles stored in the fridge? really, noodles in the fridge? they’re really spicy as well! made my nose run like hell.” you scoff in distaste, throwing down a random red card on the pile.

“you totally ate them didn’t you?” yuuta giggles, beaming you a wide smile.

“also.. told her that i didn’t see them instead but- yeah.”

“aren’t you worried she’ll find out? oh, and, uno.”

“she might just beat me up to be honest, and, uno, you say? not anymore, love.” you sneer, throwing down a +4 card.

“i want green.”

“i’d protect you.” yuuta states over his cards. you feel like cracking a joke and laughing, but there’s absolutely zero implication on his facial features to show that he’s joking. that, and his serious tone, of course.

you flip your cards down onto the table and yuuta squeaks, pointing towards them.

“uh- i can see your cards-“

“it’s okay, not like i was gonna win anyway.”

at this point, yuuta’s mind races a hundred miles an hour. he’s panicking, blood pressure raised, heart thumping and throat clogged. oh, shit, did he do something wrong? did he upset you? is it ‘cause he said he’d protect you with no regards to the fact that you’re perfectly capable of fending yourself off against maki? fuck, he’s such a god damn screw-up, can’t even take care of his girlfriend correct-

“hey.”

your fingertips slide around his neck, hands interlocking at the base of his head. your thighs balance on his lap and you straddle him, legs either side of his.

he can’t help but hitch his breath, holding it in as though one wrong move and you would dematerialise.

“what’re you thinking about in that head of yours?”

whether you’re referencing his mini panic attack just now, or if you’re referring to all the multiple times he’s battled just bending you over and railing the absolute shit out of you, there’s not much room for debate when you brush your clothed sex up against the print of his dick.

yuuta snakes his slender hands around your throat, holding it in place. you can feel the arousal pool and wash over you, and you’d be more than surprised if you hadn’t soaked through your clothes.

he lets out a breathy laugh, devastating your stomach with butterflies due to how attractive he sounds. yuuta’s soft lips brush the shell of your ear and his other hand moves to rest on your waist,

“why don’t i show you?”

before you can utter a tease something along the lines of “show me what? how you’re too scared to hit me in bed?” you’re already down, flipped over and bent over the table you and yuuta were using moments prior ago for uno. the cards have splattered all over the wooden floor and you only hiss in discomfort as the cool surface scratches against your delicate skin. your boyfriend towers over you, leaning down as his torso clicks into place against your back. even through his titanium white jacket, you can feel his calm and collected heartbeat. he rests his head on your shoulder, nudging his face into you.

“don’t scream, okay? or, try not to, at least-“

his warm fingertips ghost over the curve of your ass, where he pinches the skin there before delivering a loud slap. you squeak, back arching as you jolt from the action. he proceeds by grabbing the inside of your thighs, long middle finger hoisting around your underwear and pulling it to the side. he makes note of the red lingerie you’re wearing and gives you a small chuckle, peppering a kiss to the side of your face.

“-unless, of course-“

“-you’d prefer everyone hear me fuck you stupid.”

“safe word’s blue, angel. i love you and thank you.”

truth be told, you were never sure what to expect from yuuta. hell, you’d never really seen the man’s dick before, sure you caught glimpses in the morning whenever he’d wake up but it’s really not the same. nothing in the world can compare to the first time you felt his piping hot tip brush up against your slicked cunt. and it was embarrassing, actually, the way your pussy was seething for him already.

with a firm hold on your tailbone, yuuta utilises his lower body strength to ram his dick all the way inside. there’s a garbled and choked moan that hisses from you when you feel your walls wrap and deform around the girth of yuuta’s dick. you whine even more so when you can physically feel a thick vein that decorates his shaft.

“the mirror.” yuuta commands in a low tone, redirecting you to glance at the same mirror you’d always fantasised about him fucking you in front of.

his eyes are half lidded, riddled with concentration. it reminds you of that feral and focused gaze he gets during serious battles.

“don’t look at me. look here.”

you trail the outline of yuuta’s arm veins as a result of him rolling his uniform sleeves up; following his v line that points towards his dick. you can only gawk in awe when you realise you’ve taken him to the base of his shaft.

his gaze locks with yours for a split second and he snaps his hips out until just about his tip is visible inside your cunt.

and shit, if his pretty pink cock isn’t the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen, especially with that attractive curve. you’re sure the gesture is just to wind you up, but you can’t help but swoon at him showcasing his pride to you.

“so- mmhf- pretty-“ you whine, words jumbled and breath caught when he slams his dick inside without any prior warning. you can only shriek in exclamation when his tip bruises your cervix, and you’re unsure whether you lament the sensation or not.

he only gives you a cheerful hum, reminding you of his usual cheery disposition. it’s not until then that you realise how much of a fucking beast he’s acting right now.

“right? i’ll put it to good use, i promise.”

gojo

- i know we’re all thinking the same thing here lmfao

- trying to sleep? good for you, now, open your legs for satoru.

- oh you can’t sleep? atta girl, down on your knees for satoru.

- bye i can literally imagine gojo saying some dumbass shit like “think you were trying to sleep but i couldn’t help but think how good my dick would look down your throat like that. sorry, love, you’re not sleeping tonight.”

you blink your eyes in turn with the cicadas chirping aside, stifling a yawn. everything around you down to the very last detail screams at you to sleep, but you just cannot. from the pitch black night that floods the room obscurely, to gojo’s even and quiet breathing beside you. you’ve tried it all. you’ve counted an excess amount of sheep, you’ve tensed and relaxed your body more than you can remember. hell, no matter how many times you’ve flipped the pillow you always seemed to feel less exhausted each time.

you can’t watch netflix, because you’ve binged all your favourite shows. it’s not that you’d wake gojo up because, who cares? by the time you finish scrolling through the endless lists it’ll be time to get up.

you ponder over the things you can do, continuing to subconsciously blink furiously. that is until gojo makes note of your stupid actions and starts giggling like a high schooler at his first sleepover.

“what the hell are you doing?” he snorts, cackling into the pillow like it’s the best joke he’s heard for quite some time.

“shut up, satoru. i’m trying to sleep you ass.” you tut at him, berating him for ruining your divine concentration.

gojo audibly shifts onto his stomach, his right arm crosses over the back of his head as he lazily rests his palm onto his scalp. the other arm preoccupies itself by landing it smack bang onto your chest, fingers wandering up to cup your breast.

“satoru, huh? that’s daddy for ya” he remarks, still giggling in a state of half asleep.

“uh-huh. goodnight.” you dismiss him and his nonsense.

“just go take a shower. always helps me whenever i can’t sleep.”

“hm? you’re giving me actual good advice and being a normal boyfriend? i think i might be asleep already, this is the best dream ever.” you remark sarcastically, prying gojo’s glued wrist off of your breast and sitting up. you could go for a shower, actually. you’re not sure why but it’s always so therapeutic to take one at night rather than the morning.

“huuuh? how could you say that? you’re so mean, (y/n)-chaan! i offered you my love and the world and this is how you repay m-“

“-goodnight satoru. i love you.”

“don’t think professing your love for me will change my mind! i’m still upset at you right now, young lady!” gojo shouts from over his pillow, exclaiming and irritating you in the way he knows how to best.

“yeah, yeah. okay.” you mumble softly to yourself, bearing a wide grin from ear to ear nonetheless.

when you move to crank the water on in the shower, you realise that you didn’t bring along a change of clothes. you momentarily pop back into the bedroom to ransack the drawer for anything that you can find.

“are you back to apologise for being so mean to me?” gojo whines and you can see the pout evident on him even when it’s pitch black.

“no, i’m just here for clothes, satoru.”

you hear him mumble something but it’s muffled by the sheets he’s underneath so you don’t heed any attention to it and resume in taking a shower to help keep your insomnia at bay.

with a ginger step and a small ‘oopf’, you heave yourself into the large shower that only a headass like gojo would bother buying. it’s reminiscent to what a hot tub looks like on the inside, with surrounding jets practically in a full 360 degrees. the things so steep that there’s a small step up in front of the shower outside the actual structure. it must have cost quite the fortune.

you reach in for the built in shelf to grab ahold of some of your toiletries as you allow the water to fall in a gentle sprinkle, almost like rain. there’s an audible squeeze reminiscent to trying to get the last ounces of ketchup as you apply some body gel to your hands, lathering it up.

despite standing, the warmth of the water leads your muscles to feel less tense. the only noteworthy downside is that the running water is tremendously loud. how on earth is gojo sleeping through all that racket?

slender fingertips ghost over your inner thighs. you can feel his wet and sturdy chest in place against your spine.

“surprised to see me?”

“you know i can’t let my baby talk shit like that.”

really? that’s his issue at hand here?

“so which is it?”

“acting like an intolerant brat because you’re tired or ‘cause you wanna get dicked down?”

gojo loops his arm underneath your leg, bending it up. you almost topple over in the process and you lay one hand flat against the tile.

“don’t answer that. sometimes it’s so obvious that you’re such a whore for my dick.”

“huh?! what the shit are you saying?” you snap at how correct he is.

gojo yanks your face back, digging his fingers into your cheeks as he forces you to face him. it almost sends your neck into two pieces, straining to look back at him.

“oh, really princess? just the other day you were begging me to fuck you”

“remember that? couldn’t wait so you rode me in the car? you know, baby, all you gotta do is ask.”

your legs tremble and psyche wobbles when he pries your mouth open with his thumb, promptly before spitting into it.

“don’t bother with the bullshit. i’ll play the games, not you.”

he drags his hard cock against the curve of your ass, slapping it against you.

“i don’t think i feel like fuckin’ you right now.” gojo sneers, humming sardonically. his lips quickly latch onto yours when you spin around to meet his gaze. like the fucker he is, gojo moans and whines into the kiss- lips ravaging you whole and tongue capturing your essence.

“baby girl, i was gonna let you top me. you know i don’t let anyone do that.”

his long middle finger prods against your cunt, forcing itself in with ease.

“damn, you’re soaked. you really wanted to milk me dry that bad?”

you hate him. hate him so fucking bad. he flashes you that attractive smile of his, azure eyes sparkling and snow white hair disturbed with water.

gojo pulls his finger out before sucking onto it in front of you, lapping all the excess arousal off.

“i’m not playing with you tonight.”

toji

- i literally don’t even need to say anything here

- just be sure to make a hospital check up appointment or something

- um-i uh- please remember to breathe after this one? maybe touch some grass? ALSO my first time writing for toji AAA i hope he’s okay

maybe if you don’t breathe? nah, that wouldn’t work. there’s still air acting around your limbs when you move so you’d be disturbing the barriers there. let’s see… maybe bit by bit? surely if you slowly inched his shirt up? then again, wouldn’t toji chew you out halfway through? maybe you should just give it to him straight up? just slip your hand under his shirt. come on. but he looks so peaceful, sleeping like that.. long eyelashes fluttered closed, lips relaxed and not scowling. his eyebrows are softly arched. he looks so soft, lips parted, chest rising and falling with every breath.

fuck it. just do it. cuddle him already.

you muster up all your courage in one fell swoop and you bend one leg over toji, resting it just above his groin. your right arm sprawls out over his chest and your hand rests against his toned arm. he’s already sleeping with one arm bent up with his hand supporting the back of his head, so you utilise the free real estate to nestle your head in the crook of where his shoulder and collarbone meet.

when he doesn’t move after a while, you deem your life to be safe and exhale with ease.

“you’re not asleep.” toji states in a groggy, husky tone. it’s supposed to be a question, but, coming from him it almost sounds like a challenge.

“yes?” you squeak out meekly.

“‘yes?’ you asleep or not?”

“i can’t sleep again.” you murmur against his shirt and he exhales a small sigh. the arm that you’re clinging onto moves to draw small circles on your thigh that rests on toji.

“when’d you notice?” you inquire, glancing down at his large wrists.

“like five minutes ago. nice try, kid.” toji snorts indifferently, chuckling at your behaviour.

when you don’t make an effort to respond, toji’s interest peaks and he lets out a small hum of intrigue when he follows your gaze.

he turns his head, brushing his lips up against your temples.

“see anything interesting down there?”

“as a matter of fact-“

you nestle yourself in between toji’s large and built thighs, digits curling around the waistband of his boxers. he only smirks at you through the dark, cock twitching through the fabric. you notice toji hover his hips up so that you can slide his boxers off for him and you happily oblige.

“-i do.” you chime, licking your lips.

it’s cute, though, if you thought toji was gonna let you handle him like that all by yourself.

as you kiss a trail up his thick shaft, toji yanks ahold fistfuls of your hair before grabbing your face off of his cock.

“who said you could suck my dick? that’s real cute.”

“thinking you actually have a place in my house.”

“i didn’t train you to be such a depraved slut. know your fucking place, because this isn’t it.”

“how many times do i gotta tell you? you don’t belong here. look around. do you see anything that shows a woman lives here? no? that’s because you’re nothing but a fuck doll for me.”

toji hisses out profanities at the gag you spew when he slams your tiny little mouth back down on his dick.

“lose the teeth you imbecile. unless you’re trying to tell me that you can’t suck my dick properly.”

incessant whines and garbled sentences are muffled by toji’s cock. whatever remnants you had of your vision are nothing but a blur as tears stream your cheeks, nose running and sniffles resurface in a repeating pattern over the slick sounds of slurping and gagging. your mouth stretches as far as it can go and the corners of your lips shriek in despair. you can feel the skin there stretch and pull beyond what’s considered normal.

even through all that, you manage to glance up at toji through your water logged lashes. you’ll be a good girl for him. you need to be.

“fuuuck. that’s a pretty sight.” he grumbles and a deep chuckle resonates through his chest. within a few moments, toji fumbles to reach for something.

you can only wince and screw your eyes at the suddenly blinding flash of a light in front of you. one can only assume he’s taken a photo of you in your humiliating state.

you can feel the fear settle into your veins when that telltale ping of a message being sent vibrates throughout the room. if you were to listen hard enough, you could hear a notification go off in the next room over.

your throat feels raw, jaw tense and locked open. it’s been a good twenty minutes of toji face fucking you to teach you a valid lesson. it’s all in the will of him wanting to drag this on, savouring every miniscule slurp, whimper or gasp. when his strokes start to feel sloppier than usual, you can’t help but feel relieved.

as you squirm about due to toji shooting hot ropes of his thick cum down your throat, the door softly clicks open.

“megumi. you’re just in time.”

“she’s way more obedient than your mom ever used to be.”

[mybg3notebook]

The Party Scene

Disclaimer Game Version: All these analyses were written up to the game version v4.1.104.3536 (Early access). As long as new content is added, and as long as I have free time for that, I will try to keep updating this information. Written in June 2021.

In these “scene posts” I will explore the scene of the title looking for the information in the dialogues. What I will be looking for is how much Gale “lies”, how much lore is provided, and any extra detail that may be of our interest to highlight. At the end of these posts there are summary points for those who don't want to read the whole post.

Additional disclaimers about meta-knowledge and interpretations in this (post) while disclaimers about Context in this (one).

The party scene, I personally think, needs plenty of polishing. The fact that many characters can have a "jealous" behaviour towards Tav no matter their approval looks suspicious to me. Gale's case is even weirder because if Tav did not romanced him at all, Gale will still share those judgemental comments that seem to come from jealousy, as well as strange dialogue options about “being a bad loser” when the context is not romantic at all. This would make some sense—to a certain extent—if Tav romanced him, but if Tav locked him as a friend, it has no purpose. Especially if Tav explores the option of suggesting him to spend the night together, which ends with Gale rejecting the situation because "they are just good companions" after such display of incoherent jealousy coming from a char who values privacy (and therefore would not meddle into Tav's personal affairs). It seems to contradict his character and therefore, it makes me suspect that the whole party scene is just very raw and unpolished in general. 

As I said, the party interaction is very confusing since it doesn't follow the relationship context created by Tav, and in Gale's case looks inconsistent with his char as well, inviting a strong misinterpretations of his character (this is probably a consequence of the decision of making Gale part of EA in the last moment). So this scene analysis may be a bit messy since the scenes are messy too (hence this post's length. I'm sorry). 

Whether Gale was locked into friendship or romance, Gale drops his famous line: 

As they say in Waterdeep: In wine there is truth. That's usually followed by: In water there is good sense. Good sense will have to wait till the morrow.

A great warning line from a narrative point of view: he is basically saying that what will be shared that day under the effect of wine is true, but it certainly won't be "good sense".

In a friendship path, he would not want to waste Tav's time any longer, and will bid them a good night while promising a bed-story the next day. In that case, the wine line could be interpreted as the final decision of a confession that will happen the next day: Gale has finally reached a degree of trust in Tav that gives him enough courage to finally speak about the details of the "orb" (and I emphasise details because in broader aspect, he already shared what's most important: the "orb" in his chest is a dangerous thing. If Tav assisted with his death protocol, this is undeniable by now, unless Tav allowed him to keep his privacy). 

In a romantic path, this wine line could be interpreted as the decision of inviting Tav to share a night, and explaining the details in the morning, the “good sense”. After the wine phrase, we have other piece of prose in which Gale describes a book that it's a bit more than a sexual book:

Gale: Allow me to make the following proposition: there is a book that circulates in Amn, detailing the first thousand nights of a newly-wed king and queen. They turned everything they did into an art. The art of conversation. The art of taste, time honoured and newly acquired. The art of the body. The exploration and acceptance of the self and the other. The art of the night itself. I say we take a page from their book. 

Considering that Gale is not only a verbose char, but also a poet and a scholar, the enumeration of the concepts in the description of the book speaks a lot in my opinion. Gale is not inviting Tav to a night of sex (let's remember he never uses that word in EA) but to a deeper degree of "intimacy", as he calls it. There is a lot more involved in what he asks for: confessions in the art of conversation, pleasures in the art of the body, and, hopefully, acceptance. For Gale, acceptance is a big deal: it’s not by chance that he left it last in the enumeration, summarising the whole concepts with the "art of the night". Gale is truly eager to access these concepts, and in doing so, I personally believe he shows a fair level of naivety on this matter. It seems (especially later with his unpolished arguments in the morning) he felt he needed this level of intimacy—of acceptance first—so he could speak the details openly. He wants to have this night before any confession because he thinks that it would allow him to acquire something that would prevent the abandonment that he viscerally fears: acceptance.

Any of the options taken by Tav keeps showing his eagerness. He wants this to happen in whatever terms Tav desires: as a brand new experience (“blank slates on blank sheets”) or with the promise of commitment (writing the prequel of a newly-wed couple). Or if Tav romanced Gale and then chose to spend the night with another companion, Gale will still insist in sleeping together, showing he was open for Tav to have casual sex as long as the "commitment" part would be established with him. This is reinforced by the fact that, if Tav never shared the Weave with Gale, there is no way to sleep with him: Gale is not a character for one-stand nights. He craves for deep connection, for commitment, in whatever fashion he can get it. Mystra taught him not to ask about exclusivity after all.

Gale is so desperate to have this deep connection that if Tav doubts about spending the night with him, he will drop a line which can trigger an alarm in the player:

Tav: I'm not sure you're the one I want. Gale: That's because you've yet to find out what you're missing. Doubt is a spoilsport. Cast it aside.

Gale, the scholar, the one who kept encouraging Tav to doubt and to think critically about everything, suggests to dismiss doubts. Once more we see he needs this to happen. Some players interpret this as manipulation as well. I personally think this also says something else in Gale: since the dev's notes show no second intentions in the only two scenes where dev's notes existed, and instead, they display how much fear Gale has for a second abandonment, Gale is showing here his inexperience with relationships as well as a constant fear for abandonment.

Gale is looking for commitment, for something that can last longer than Mystra's affair did: he wants something solid, but his inexperience in this field made him "acquire" knowledge of how things should work via romanticized means such as books and poetry. In his mind, the acceptance he needs can only be acquired due to the "art of the night", very well detailed in this book he describes. 

It's true that, all this part, if we completely ignore the narrative weight that the book has for a book-based character such as Gale, can be interpreted as Gale manipulating Tav to have sex alone; desperate to obtain it, doing everything in order to get it. We can also see the description of the book as a “bait”, as some people do. It's a valid interpretation, especially for a Tav who respected Gale's privacy during the Loss Scene and the protocol, so that Tav has no information with which to connect the dots. But I personally find it an over-magnification to see him as a "mastermind of manipulation". The few dev's notes we have about Gale seem to confirm that nothing shadier than his “orb” despair and his fear for abandonment are going on. These fears are constantly echoing in his mind, and they are, as I said in other posts, the main reasons why he becomes emotional and prone to make mistakes. 

Is this action manipulative? It can be seen as “withholding information” by any Tav who didn't push him to explain, otherwise, all the information in a general way has been offered already and there is no withholding at all. Is Gale a manipulative character? In EA we don't see a pattern of that behaviour to qualify him as such. He has been quite honest, explaining in all scenes what he can say and what he cannot, drawing his boundaries clean and clear. We saw him struggling with the explanation of what he lost. The few Dev's notes reinforce mainly his fear for abandonment, lacking any manipulative behaviour behind his actions. His pattern, in my opinion, is that he tends to make mistakes in his emotional state, which is mostly triggered by the “orb” and the concept of “abandonment”. Not so much with Mystra per ser. He seems to be nostalgic but more aware of what loving a God causes (his regret is explicit during the conversation of Karsus). He is quite done with "her love as a lover", but that doesn't mean he doesn't want to be forgiven nor he doesn't love her as the essence of Magic itself. More details in the post of "Mystra and her Chosen ones".

After the party, Tav can have a romantic conversation before the sex “intimacy” or can reject the chance. What seems incoherent in this part is when Tav is not in the mood for sex, and Gale simply cuts off the situation. He is a character who craves connection and intimacy, and pretty much like Wyll, he needs a bond before stepping into romance. To waste a night of celebration that could be used to share any other level of intimacy (let's say, talking? The man clearly LOVES to talk) seems strange. If this reaction is truly meant to be in the game, it would seem that he certainly was more desperate for sex than what all the previous scenes hinted, but in that case it would have done little sense to leave the tale of the wizard for the next night. Gale already knew Tav did not want to have sex, so no point in delaying the explanation of the details. I personally suspect these incoherences are a consequence of Gale being added into EA at the last moment, making him more “shadier” than he is meant to be. 

To justify my opinion that this seems to be an unpolished scene: if Gale is not romanced, and conditions are given, Lae'Zel will spend the night with him, talking. Why would Gale prefer to share a night of talks with a companion with whom he had not the Weave connection before, but he won't do it with a Tav who shared it? I see some incongruence here, probably as the result of being added into the EA in a rush. His scenes are less polished and much more messier than the other companions' (certainly not more than Wyll, though) and his bugs and triggering priority show it. 

This part is also seen as "coercive" by some players:

Tav: I’m sorry, but I actually don’t think I can do this. I’m just not in the mood. Gale: Not even a simple kiss would change your mind? Tav: No, it wouldn’t.

Tav: Maybe a kiss was enough Gale: Are you sure? One kiss is like one chord in an entire symphony. It begs for more.

Gale: (disapproval) What a pity. One should never be afraid to live life to the fullest. Before we part.. I know there are many things about me that remain shrouded in mystery. You’ve been very patient with me, and I appreciate that. You’ve brought me back from the grey shores of death. You know of my condition, and you know about my unfortunate efforts to win Mystra’s favour, but those are but the broad strokes. The time has come to paint you the true picture. So come find me another night, yes? No kisses, just words. (Leaves)

Asking seems to be coercive for some people just because there is a disapproval. I personally separate very clearly what Tav sees and receives as information from the NPCs and what I, the player, do. Tav should react to what they see, but the player is having a “meta-knowledge” of the situation with the info of the narrator and the approval system. The player knows Gale is disappointed in not having intimacy now, and he expresses it. Then he behaves completely natural, and continues talking (of course) about what he will explain about in the following morning (I don't understand what impedes him to say it in that moment: is it the wine? He fears his charisma checks are at a disadvantage due to the wine? Is it just a reflection of the rush in which he was added to the game? We will see in the full release. To me it looks inconsistent.)

Anyways. The scene continues in the early morning or simply the next night depending on what option Tav picked. Here, Gale presents the details of the revelation: “It is a story full of answers long overdue. It is a story of a man who fell in love with a goddess.”

Tav: You're really about to tell me about another lover? What's wrong with you? Gale :I couldn’t do it before. I couldn’t ruin the chance for us to happen. You were there. How could I say no to you? Dev's notes: Gale revealed he was in love with Mystra. He tells this the morning after. Understandably, the player can react negatively to his timing. He tries to explain himself. 

This line clearly shows that there was an intention in hiding the relationship he had with Mystra, which it's an “answer long overdue” (is it?). Now, some players consider this the proof of Gale's manipulations; the greatest betrayal, because people are entitled to know all the details of their partner's past before sleeping with them. Other players consider that it's in poor taste to disclose this exactly the morning after sharing the night with Gale. And I agree. However, I see a scene with a lot of over-magnifications and making things more problematic than they truly are. In my opinion, “the chance for us to happen” is deeply linked to the book of Amn for all the reasons explained before. It's not by chance that this book has such a weight in the scene. Gale also shows with this line that he has no experience nor idea how relationships develop. 

I also think that Gale fails so much in delivering decent lines in this scene because, 1) this is a very unpolished text in EA, or 2) this is very on purpose, emphasising that Gale is ready to speak about the two topics that turn him into an emotional disaster and his word choices could be attributed to as someone failing many charisma checks. Maybe that's the intention.

If Tav considers this the greatest of the betrayals they can tell him to leave and Gale will not resist the rejection, leaving the party immediately and facing one of his biggest fears: Abandonment. And once more, the abandonment as a consequence of his own mistake. The irony of this path. 

If Tav allows him to explain, Gale will accept any "judgement after telling his story". This is something very related to Gale's approvals: to have a complete grasp of a situation, you need to have all the evidence, hear all the details of the event, before drawing a conclusion. And curiously, no matter what aggressive option Tav picks, Gale gives no disapproval unless he is forced to leave the party. So, after some dramatic reaction, Gale will try to proceed with the telling.

Tav: It’s clear as day you are talking about yourself, you know Gale: I know, but a bit of narrative distance will make it all so much easier in the telling. Indulge me.

From here, Gale gives Tav another courtesy gesture: to pick the version in which this will be explained. He clarifies that the long version, more pompous and verbose and in third person, is the one he would prefer due to the distance. Since the first meeting on the road, or the stew scene, passing through the Loss Scene, we see this pattern again: Gale, the character who always has a lot of things to speak about, has also topics that are difficult to explain and needs to use narrative tricks to do it. Not by chance he is a reserved person: those topics he can't talk about are always personal. 

Long version

Gale: Once upon a time, not quite that long ago, there lived a wizard in a tower. The wizard was what one might call a prodigy, who from an early age could not only control the Weave, but compose it, like a musician or a poet. Such was his skill that it earned him the attention of the mother of magic herself. The Lady Of Mysteries, Mystra.

Tav: What did Mystra’s attention feel like? Gale: Love.  Dev's Notes: nostalgic, regretful, bitter, sad, lost romance–all with a bit of hesitation on the front of the line. Tav :He sounds like a very talented individual Gale: He was. Even though it was in Mystra’s affections that his true power lay. Tav: Teacher’s pet, was he? Gale: He fancied himself much more than that. He fancied himself favoured above all others. 

These three options give interesting additional information: Gale was convinced that Mystra's attention was love, because he was young and naive. He is now very aware that his talent meant little, because the true power he had was in Mystra's affections, meaning in being a loved Chosen one. He fancied himself unique, as a Chosen would do. 

Gale: Perhaps it was not quite love, Dev's Notes: A little embarrassed Gale: but you see, the wizard was but a very young man. It was most certainly love to him. Mystra showed him the secrets behind the veils. The gossamer veils first, draped across the Weave. The delicate veils next, draped across her body. ‘Chosen One’ she whispered, as she slipped them off completely.

This is another fragment with interesting, yet disturbing lines: Gale now, as a narrator, questions if that past feeling was Love. He has matured his sentiments for Mystra, they are less "teenager-like". He is convinced that in the past it was love to him, implying that now he has doubts (concept reinforced once more by the end of the scene). The disturbing line is the definition of "very young man", which I will talk about in the post of "Gale Hypotheses- Part 1", section: "Grooming". 

Tav: The veils draped across the Weave? Gale: Indeed. What most wizards perceive is but the ripple of the Weave’s surface. Untold wonders lie beyond. I enjoyed them for a while, as we enjoyed each other.

Once more, in these details, the narrative reinforces how intense is the connection of Mystra with a Chosen one. Again, this is lore information. Chosen ones have a deep connection with Mystra/the Weave/Magic, which is unique. More on this matter can be read in the post about "Mystra and her Chosen ones".

Gale: One day all too soon, the whispers stopped. The goddess spurned the mortal. The veils were drawn once more, and the wizard was left behind heartbroken.

Tav: Poor wizard Gale: Poor wizard. Silly wizard too, for he wouldn’t take no for an answer Tav: What happened next? // I hate to say it, but he really could have seen this coming Gale: He was blinded by love. Good stories are rife with lovers’ follies after all. Tav: Perhaps she, like you, had other lovers she didn’t tell him about. Gale : She might well have had, but that didn’t stop the wizard from trying to reclaim her affections.

Gale: Like so many of the heartbroken, he did something infinitely foolish. One has to think big if one seeks to win back a goddess. So the wizard thought big. [Here he explains all about Karsus who] sought to usurp the goddess of magic so that he could become a god himself. He almost managed but not quite, and his entire empire – Netheril – came crashing down around him as he turned to stone. The magic unleashed that day was phenomenal, rolling like the prime chaos that outdated creation. A fragment of it was caught and sealed away in a book. No ordinary book, mind you; a tome of gateways that contained within it a bubble of Astral Plane. It was a fragment of primal Weave locked out of time – locked away from Mystra herself. ‘What if’, the silly wizard thought. ‘What if after all this time, I could return this lost part of herself to the Goddess?”

Another part of the scene that keeps giving us a lot of information: Gale is very aware now how silly he was in his youth (at this point, one can almost remember his words during Arabella's quest: she is not innocent but that doesn't mean she is guilty) and his past young self was unable to take a no as an answer (which apparently Gale learnt very well when before this revelation or after, Tav can reject him and he simply leaves the party without putting much resistance, despite knowing that Tav only has a fragment of the big picture). The other answer reinforces his blindness by this strange concept that Gale thought it was love, and pretty much uses the word Folly for describing or making an analogy with his past, which again, it's not a casual word: Folly is a formal way to say stupidity and it's also a word that Gale uses to compare his mistake with Karsus' folly. As an extra, the last answer seems to explain very much what he does when Tav romanced him and then slept with another companion. Details of this in the post "Gale Hypotheses- Part 2", section: "Proposition to Cheat".

Short version: 

This version is shorter and more into the point without an excess of dramatic details that may end up annoying Tav more than making the process of comprehension better. The short version makes much more clear where Gale is standing: the facts are presented without his typical pattern of embellishing the story.

Gale: […] I am what one might call a wizard prodigy, who from an early age could not only control the Weave, but compose it like a virtuoso. Such was my skill that it earned me the attention of Mystra herself. I soon fell in love with her, and she returned my affections. […] Before long Mystra tired of me. What was I, after all, but a mortal plaything in sacred hands? You have to realise I was heartbroken. I was a young man, she was my first love. I thought it would last forever. 

This part reinforces once more that he is very aware that a relationship with a goddess was very unbalanced, that Mystra was his first love, he was a young man, and he thought it would last forever. 

For completion's sake, the goblin version has a different introduction:

Gale: Let's just get this over with. No doubt you've guessed by now there was something rather special about my relationship with the goddess Mystra. The thing is, we were lovers once. I am what one might call a wizard prodigy [...follows the same speech of the short version]

Three versions converge in the kneeling. The scene in this point has a different narrative value; a proud character as he is, who has a deep regret for his mistake with the “orb” (he says it explicitly in the "Loss Scene" post) kneels before Tav to humbly show the traumatic experience by placing their hand on his heart, where the “orb” resides:

Gale: Here. Place your hand over my heart. Let me show you Narrator: You feel the tadpole quiver as you realise Gale is letting you in. Into the dark. You see through Gale’s eyes, staring down the corridors of a dread memory. A book, bound, then suddenly opened. Inside there are no pages, only a swirling mass of blackest Weave that pounces. It’s teeth, it’s claws, it’s unstoppable as it digs through you and becomes part of you. And gods, is it ever hungry…

This scene speaks of opennesses in all senses, honest and without any interest of pretence: Gale is showing his greatest regret, the lowest of the lowest he reached, the despair that it inspires. For once, he is not talking, he is showing it (because the experience is the one that makes him speechless and its memory seems to cause him great pain too due to the facial gesticulation). And what Tav sees shows again that Gale has nothing extra to hide: this has been the same exact information that Tav could extract from him in earlier opportunities with successful tadpole intrusions. So, if Tav never reveals that they saw this in Gale during the stew scene, Tav will realise that Gale kept his promise: he was reserved for a while, trusting slowly in Tav, to finally open up and show that he was going to explain the “why” much more later, because it's truly difficult for Gale to speak about.

1-Yank your hand away Gale: Terrifying isn’t it? And that is only the beginning 3-Tav: Gods – why show me this? Gale: I’m sorry, but I had to. After all, that is only the beginning 4-Tav: I slept with a monster. Gale: I didn’t sleep with a monster despite the tadpole in your head. We are none of us monsters. We are merely hatcheries for monstrous things. So we fight them.

This is one of the most ominous information Gale gives us, in my opinion: The experience of how the “Black Weave” rushed into his body is grotesque and painful, and it's meant to cause despair. But that was only the beginning: Gale is everyday dealing with that feeling, but on a bigger scale as its hunger increases with each passing day. The descriptions of his emotions during the artefact scenes adds more despair and anxiety to it. Gale is living in the worst mental state that a person can, but he manages it thanks to his wizard training and the Weave he consumes (he is still alive thanks to Magic, of all things). This shows the mental power of a wizard in DnD. And if you read the post about "Well-known Characters" section: "Elminster", Gale could have been inspired in him since I can see this level of endured torture similar to the one that Elminster was exposed to when he was kidnapped and dragged to the Hells. 

Gale: This Netherese taint.. this orb, for lack of a better word, is balled up inside my chest. And it needs to be fed. As long as it absorbs Weave it remains stable – to an extent. The moment it becomes unstable, however..[...] It will erupt. I don’t know the exact magnitude of the eruption, but given my studies of Netherese magic, I’d say even a fragment as small as the one I carry…. It’d level a city the size of Waterdeep. Dev's Notes: He admits he’s a walking disaster waiting to happen. This is said very seriously. The truth is finally out and he has no idea how the player will react to such monstrous news.” 

Tav: I should godsdamned kill you Gale: Perhaps that is what I deserve, but you deserve no such thing. To kill me is to unleash the orb. I understand your anger, I do […]

Here is where we know that Gale calls it “orb”, but it's not an orb. For more details, read the post about the "Orb". Tav already knew since the Stew scene that Gale could cause a catastrophe without artefacts. In this scene we just get some extra details about it. 

Gale: It is my truth, finally revealed. It is this folly that led Mystra to abandon me completely. I can only hope you won’t abandon me as well. After all we’ve been through.. (After the night we spent together). Surely we can brave even this side by side. Dev's notes: Solemn. Full of yearning his news will not lead to him being abandoned by the player.

And there, Gale's “truth” is “revealed” (not truly, it is only more detailed in the information): We know that the Weave he consumes from the artefacts keeps this condition stable (something we already knew since the Stew Scene) and it will erupt if it doesn't consume artefacts (which is something we knew since the Stew Scene too). So the revelation scene is not so much of a revelation. The whole scene has a writing with a lot of weight in “shocking” revelations and “dramatic” reactions when the context provided shows that there is little to be shocked about, in my opinion. If anything, this whole scene needs serious polishing.

Then it follows the “coercive” part according to some players, which again... it's only Gale hoping this situation doesn't end in a second abandonment. The concept that the “intimacy” of the shared night gives more reasons to stay by his side seems pretty naïve, but maybe that was the intention (thus my suspicion that Gale has no experience at all in relationships, only what he learnt from romantic books). What it's clear is that after the detailed explanation, Gale is desperate to avoid a second abandonment, yet he knows it's unavoidable. This can be seen when Tav doesn't forgive his betrayal (?) of not saying anything about Mystra or the "orb" (he did in the Stew and following scenes, but this context is not acknowledged here), and Gale simply accepts it, showing that Mystra's experience made him learn to accept a no, leaving the party forever (in EA). 

Tav: No. This is too large a betrayal. Gale: I see. I am sorry. I am sorry that it had to come to this. All that’s left to say is farewell. Dev's Notes: A slight hesitation, hurt but understanding. He makes a polite little bow, then we see him walk away.

Really, I don't understand what happened with this scene because it's either ignoring any annoyance that the situation can cause on a Tav who didn't push Gale to talk, or it offers an over-reaction when all the information has been shared already, at least in a very generalised way during the Stew Scene. A Tav who doesn't push Gale to speak will have no more details than the ones provided during the Stew Scene at this point in the game, but one who pushed Gale will basically have the whole story covered. The Rpg-options we get here are so white-and-black, and not even coherent with the context, no wonder so many players turned Gale into a “mastermind in manipulation”. This scene is very unpolished in my opinion.

Tav: Gale, are you still in love with Mystra? Gale: I’ll be honest with you; I don’t know. She is my muse still, the embodiment of magic, but the embodiment of love? Only if we ever meet again will I know

Here we have once more confirmation that Gale questions what kind of love he has for Mystra. Considering all the context he gave us previously, it seems that his love for his Goddess as a devotee will never cease, but romantic love is a big question for him. He has given Tav all the hints to make them suspect that Gale probably never knew romantic love outside his experience with Mystra or what he could read in books.

Tav: What would permanently rid you of the orb? Gale: The orb was kept safe and inert in a pocket of Astral Plane, suspended in time. If I can somehow manage to expel it from my body while in the Astral Plane, it will be rendered inert again. Alternatively, I could learn to control it’s chaotic magic, that is; to succeed where I failed before. But without Mystra’s favour, I don’t see how that may come to pass. Of course there could be different answers as well. Faerûn brims with more magic than any one wizard could fathom, let alone comprehend. Who knows what outlandish solutions may yet present themselves?

The last bits of information are more interesting: Gale thought of two possible solutions to solve his “orb”problem. One is to expel the object out of his body in the Astral Plane where time doesn't exist so its hunger or ticking mechanism stops, so the magic will remain inert. The other option is to control Netherese magic. He informed Tav that he already tried this option, so it's clear that Gale's intention when obtaining this book was to master this strange piece of Weave and give the secrets of that control to Mystra. But he failed.

Summary of the post:

There is an important emphasis in acceptance: only through acceptance Gale can open up to share the details of his mistake. He wants to have this night before any confession because he wants to acquire this acceptance that, in his mind, would prevent the abandonment he viscerally fears.

In all the scenes there are many hints suggesting Gale is very inexperienced in relationships: the acceptance he needs can only be acquired due to the "art of the night'', which is one of the main points in this book. His notions related to relationships seem to have been acquired via romanticised means: books and poetry. He may believe that intimacy guarantees acceptance.

Gale “reveals” his truth: he was a Chosen of Mystra, he was Mystra's lover, and the “orb” problem was a mistake he made to earn Mystra's attention. All this information is now detailed here when it had been shared already. There is little “revelation” in it.

Gale's actions can be interpreted as manipulative for a Tav who respects his privacy and has little information about the “orb”. But hardly the pattern extends to his behaviour. His need for acceptance makes him make bad decisions.

A Tav who pushed Gale to speak in previous scenes finds little new information in this one: they will have a more detailed picture of the situation and they will know that Gale and Mystra were lovers.

Gale is very aware that Mystra's love was not exactly love, but it felt like that when he was young. He also knows that the true power of a Chosen is related to being loved by her. He is also aware that a relationship with a goddess is a very unbalanced one. He states that Mystra was his first love, the affair happened when he was a (very) young man, and he thought it would last forever. 

Potent narrative image: Gale, a proud character with great confidence, kneels before Tav to humbly show the traumatic experience by placing his hand on his heart, where the “orb”resides.

In general, the whole tone of the scene jumps constantly in my opinion. Tav's options are not toned to the general atmosphere of the scene: or they ignore completely the value of what Gale says, or over-react magnifying information as if it were the first time Gale says it, when a lot of it was shared during the Stew Scene and following scenes. It feels like a very unpolished scene, probably as the result of Gale being a companion added to the EA in a rush.

The Dev's notes explain the whole situation as: 

Dev's notes: synopsis: The principal portion of this dialog consists of two main parts: a romantic night intro that leads to a fade to black and implied intimacy, and a section in which Gale tells you his true story in either of two ways (chosen by the player). These are the ‘story’ variant in third person, and the slimmed down ‘story-light’ version in first person. It is the story of how he fell in love with the goddess Mystra, was spurned by her after a brief affair, and how he got himself into big trouble when trying to win her back. The dialog was originally meant to contain only the above, but for recording and cinematic purposes, the story sections of it are also used in a variety of other ways, that is to say, the dialog also contains an intro section in which the scene begins with no romantic intent. In specific cases though, Gale will still try his luck, which you’ll see in the repeat of some lines of an earlier dialog. 

This shows that, so far, the intention was always to make Gale explain the “true story” in this scene, which was the one we were told. I think that expecting more secrets would water down this intention here. In any case, the future secrets, if there are some left, may be secret even for Gale himself.

This post was written in June 2021. → For more Gale: Analysis Series Index

[ciggylungz]

Miss Ginger

Miss ginger

Blurb night- 2.5k

(request: can you plz do something about Harry being all soft with his kids?)

 -----

Harry had always been a family man. Ever since he was a little boy he dreamed of having his own family, couple of kids, a nice family home with a big back garden for the little ones to run around in and him and his wife to attempt to grow some fruits and veg and maybe a few sunflowers or daisies. Simple, modest, pure and quaint but most of all, happy.

The day Harry met Y/n he knew she was special. She had this aura that he wanted to wrap himself in like a blanket. A laugh as pretty as song birds in the morning, a heart of gold, quick wit and full of talent. He knew she was going to be his wife someday, and he swears the day she said yes when he got down on one knee his heart grew 3 times its size.

The pair planned their wedding to be an intimate, beautiful event and with the help of Harry’s lovely mother Anne and Y/n’s combined work they were able to pull it off. They had decided to invite their parents and siblings, their closest friends- which included Harry’s former bandmates who made sure to embarrass the newly wed man during their best man speech- and all of Harry’s god children as well as their parents.

Harry wasn’t shy about crying when he saw his bride walk down the isle towards him, her dress was a simple silk fitted gown with delicate trimming of lace. Y/n chose to wear the same pearl earrings her mother had worn at her own wedding and a diamond necklace Anne had gifted her for the occasion. He really couldn’t help the waterworks making their way down his face as he took in her beauty, he stayed weepy through the entirety of their vows a huge smile across his dimpled face when he finally lifted the vail over her head giving her the first kiss as a married couple. She was his, and he was hers and the pair couldn’t be more smitten for each other even as they stand where they are now nearly 4 years into their marriage.

Over the last 4 glorious, joyful years of being fully committed to each other, sharing a surname and living as a unite the pair had welcomed 2 beautiful children into the world. Alfie who was nearly 3, he was conceived only around 6 months into their marriage yet they couldn’t have been more elated to find out they were expecting. The second was their little girl Rosana that they affectionally called by her nickname ‘Rosie’ and she was now coming up on 10 months old, she was starting to become increasingly mobile already such a bubbly happy little girl who had her dad wrapped around her tiny chubby finger.

__

Harry was currently on a break, just finishing his first solo tour finally getting some downtime to be home with his family and he couldn’t be happier. He loved every part of fatherhood, he enjoyed getting up in the morning and starting the little ones routines. First Harry would go downstairs, putting a kettle on while taking some breastmilk y/n had pumped from the fridge to warm up, when both of those were taken care of he’d migrate back upstairs into his sons room where he’d usually find his little guy sitting up in his new big boy toddler bed playing with one of the various stuffed toys on his bed as he waited patiently to be gotten up. Harry adored the way his son would perk up when he walked in, opening the toddlers curtains to let the sunshine in giving him a nice morning cuddle before taking him to the bathroom to change out of his pullup into his new big boy underwear since y/n and Harry are finally reaching the tail end of potty training their first born. It had been a struggle, yet every time their little boy danced around with a sticker on his shirt for going on the potty it was worth every bed wetting incident, and all the terrible two’s tears that came with the teaching. After he had him changed, he tried his best to tame the boys hair. The little tyke inherited his fathers chocolate curls unlike his sister who wore a head full of ginger ringlets.

After all of the hygiene tasks were complete, he’d serve the boy his breakfast, steeping his wife and him a cup of tea using the remaining warm water to heat the breastmilk in for when Rosie decided to greet the day. Harry didn’t mind giving his girl a bottle feed so his wife could get a little extra sleep in the mornings, opting to nurse during the day and before bed pumping whatever’s left to hold Rosie over till her mother wakes up.

Unlike some people, when Harry heard the baby monitor start to go off with the cries Rosie gives when she first wakes up he smiles instead of groans. He didn’t get angry when his kids cried, he was actually good at reading the cry’s instead of getting frustrated which always helped calm it down quickly and his little girl would always have a little cry when she’d wake up and think she’s all alone.

As soon as her daddy opened her nursery door the little girl stood up in her cot, balancing herself by gripping the railing to get a good look at who was coming towards her. once the morning light was shining in from Harry opening her curtains the tears stopped and a sniffling nose and big gummy grin was shining on her face, a contagious smile at that.

“Good morning sunshine!” the man raised his voice a few octaves, a big grin on his face as he picked her up from her bed giving her a nice hug as he swayed back and forth. “Did yeh have a good sleep, miss ginger? You look very beautiful this morning my girl, always take your shirt off when yeh sleep don’t ya’ silly girl? I get it girlfriend, sometimes you gotta let it breathe babe. C’mon think it’s time for a nappy change and a bottle hmm?” the little girl giggled at her father, bouncing in his arms and babbling incoherently whilst her dad cleaned her up and got her ready for her morning feed.

Harry set the baby in her bouncer, putting the milk into her bottle checking the temperature on his wrist before giving it to the still topless baby. It was easier to just leave it off during the morning snack, she was a rather messy little girl since she always wanted to hold her own bottle now often letting it dribble onto her tummy as she removed the nipple from her mouth to babble at her father. She always had a lot to say, even if no one but her knew what she was on about, no one had created a baby talk translation app yet so until then her passionate rants wouldn’t be understood.

Alfie was at an age where he wanted to be independent more, he reminds everyone how he’s a big boy, whenever he puts his own dish in the washer or screws the top onto his sippy cup by himself. Both his parents found it absolutely adorable and humorous as well.

__

When Harry heard the pitter patter of his wife coming down the stairs around 45 minutes after he’d got the kids up, a soft smile etched itself onto his face. He swears every time he sees her, no matter what state she’s in he still finds her breathtakingly gorgeous. Angelic even. Even when he had pulled Alfie out of her as she pushed, he still found her beautiful. Nothing would ever change the love and attraction he felt for his wife.

“Mornin’ love, sleep well?” the man brought his wife into his arms, giving her a warm hug and a kiss on the crown of her head. “Mhm, thank you for gettin’ up with the kids so I could get a few extra minutes of rest. Love yeh h.” she stood on her toes to peck his lips, this far into a relationship and being parents a slightly morning breathy kiss didn’t bother them in the slightest. After you’ve changed some ungodly diapers, smells don’t affect you the same anymore.

“no problem, had an easy morning Alfie was good about brushing his teeth and me and Rosie had a nice cuddle. She woke up shirtless again, I’m starting to get her vibe think I might start just being half naked all the time.” Y/n chuckled at her husband, sipping her tea slowly before responding. “At least it was just her top this time, last week when I got her up she had taken everything off. Had to do an extra load of wash after that one. Silly little girl.”

The couple could fawn over their kids for an infinite amount of time, but a thud from the living room disrupted their banter. The two wore matching raised eyebrows while venturing into the room, being met with the sight of Rosie’s bottle tossed at the wall and the girl herself holding her feet up with her little hands in a split position while still strapped into her bouncer chair.

“Hey missy, throwing things isn’t nice. C’mon time to get dressed, can’t have nakey babies crawling in the garden can we? Neighbors might think we aren’t watchin’ after yeh well enough.” Her mother unstrapped her, bringing her to her chest to kiss her cheeks, her father deciding to chime in, “I think with that chubby tummy and those chunky thighs they’ll know our girl is more than taken care of.”

y/n bounced the baby in her arms, cooing at her and mocking Harry’s words with a baby voiced ‘is that true?! Rosie are you a chunky lady?’ which got them a chorus of baby laughs from the infant.

 Once y/n got both of her little ones changed as well as herself cleaned up and changed for the day, she took them back downstairs where their father was sitting on the couch glancing between his phone and the tv screen as he shoveled some cereal into his mouth.

Alfie made a b-line for his dad, excited to show him the outfit his mother had dressed him in for the day.

“Daddy! Daddy look! I got clothes on, mummy says I look handsome! Look I got turtles on my socks, daddy look!”  the little boy was over the moon about his clothes. Y/n had chosen some toddler size sweatpants, Alfies favorite t-shirt- a Gucci one Harry had got him which his wife thought was insane to dress a messy 3 year old in a 250 pound shirt, but their son loved it because his father wore the same brand- and some socks with little turtles as the print on them. It was going to be a pretty chill day at home so there was no need for fancy clothes.

“Oh my gosh! Bud you look very handsome, look at my dapper boy! Gimme five, big guy” Harry held his palm in the air, his son jumping to smack his much smaller one to his fathers, beaming from all the praise he’d gotten from his doting parents.

When Harry looked over at his wife holding his daughter his smile got even bigger. There stood his beautiful bride, clad in a pair of his black socks she liked to steal, some comfy adidas sweats and a t-shirt Harry had given her years ago. Her hair was in a sloppy bun, lips slightly shiny with some lip balm and only one earring in since Rosie had snatched the other stud from her right ear and tossed it somewhere Y/n too caught up in her children to even remember to take the second one out even after 2 weeks going by now.

His daughter was in a yellow polka dot onesie and her hair was in a little whale spout on the top of her head. His girl’s looked stunning in even the simplest of clothes, they were his angels and he adored them.

“And look at you girls! Little red head, you look dashing in that onesie! Red carpet ready my girl. And you miss yummy mummy, are stunning today. C’mere I want kisses from my ladies don’t be stingy.”

Y/n couldn’t help but laugh at her husband, even when she looked like she lived in a alley behind a gas station he still made a point to make her feel beautiful. Of course, she adored the way her husband talked to their baby girl too, they had a long talk while she was pregnant with her where Harry vowed to always build up their daughter from infancy till the day he died. No matter how old she is, what she was wearing, if she was covered in gunk from the sandbox or in her future prom dress, he promised to always let her know she was beautiful and loved. Harry never wanted his kids to feel any less than supported, validated and loved.

 It was around 1 in the afternoon when Rosie woke up from her first nap, nursing while Y/n and Harry sat together on the couch playing with Alfie and his blocks. The family had a quick bite to eat, hanging out just enjoying each other’s company. Y/n handed their daughter to Harry for him to burp her so she could refill Alfie’s sippy cup and grab both her and Harry some water.

After distributing the beverages she sat on the floor, playing with both her kids and holding Rosie up by her hands so she could dance around in her mothers grip. She loved to dance, she was always on the move crawling full speed everywhere and always squirming whenever she heard her fathers music.

Today the little girl had more in store for her parents, taking them both of them by surprise when she hoisted herself up to cruse holding onto the couch before looking right at her mother suddenly taking her first steps towards her.

Harry and Y/n both gasped, eyes wide and mouths showing huge grins while starting to cheer their baby on waving their hands and praising her whilst the baby took wobbly steps to her mom flopping into her chest before she was lifted in the air and spun around, excited cheers from the entire family as they celebrated her milestone.

“You’re walkin’ now Rosie! My big girl! Oh my gosh I’m so proud of you princess!”

Y/n tossed her into the air gently, catching her then setting her back on her feet letting her walk to her dad who was now in full blown celebration mode hands waving in the air while he cheered. His little girl toddled towards him, squealing as he scooped her up and kissed all over her face.

These were the moments he dreamed about his whole life, and he swears the dream didn’t even compare to the reality now. He’s never been happier.

[avversiera-writes]

try again; in every day we breathe life [tobirama senju/you] - chapter 6

Chapter 6 - Now

Summary: Tobirama’s secret disquisition is taking a toll on him. More of a comfort chapter. 

Word count: ~3k

available on AO3. 

Chapter 1 - Now | Chapter 2 - Then, part 1 | Chapter 2 - Then, part 2 | Chapter 3 - Now | Chapter 4 - Then | Chapter 5 - Then | 

Tobirama massages the bridge of his nose as the words on the paper in front of him starts to blur into incoherent sentences. Tremors plague his hands too often now, and his chest often feels tight. He knows these are signs that he is very fatigued and that he lacks sleep–these days, he has simply stopped sleeping altogether. The energy that he rides on is the hope that he can finish his secret disquisition, so that finally he can rest. He just needs to do this one last thing. 

 The events of the year had spurred him on to throw himself on his Edo Tensei . He feels that this is the only way he can cope and handle his troubles in the near future. Especially if his theory about his brother is true: that he is dying everyday he lives.

 He is almost never wrong. 

 He needs a backup plan. A safeguard, among his other collections of safeguards. Someone like him can never have too many. 

 And he believes that the answers lie in his creation. 

Tobirama sighs and he presses his palms into his eyes. Maybe he really needs sleep. 

 The office doors open after a knock, and he looks up to find his brother. He cannot help but notice that Hashirama’s hair is silky and that his face is smooth, free of the blemishes of a wrinkle. There are no spots on his skin, and in fact, his skin seems to glow with youth. 

“Elder brother,” Tobirama greets him, with utmost respect. 

 Hashirama’s face softens towards him. The glaze in his eyes from the other night is gone. He looks more alert. “You called for me?” 

Tobirama tries to hide the way his hands seem to shake and fishes for the papers that he wants his brother to see. He takes his time, in the guise of searching for it, even though he is organized enough to know where each document is. 

 “I…” Tobirama begins, taking his time to form his words. “First, I have told you that this is not a good idea. Despite my best efforts to persuade you, I know you are also quite stubborn. So here. The approval to begin the construction of your precious statues. It commences next month.” 

Hashirama’s eyes widened in surprise. “Brother, I don’t know what to say.”

 Tobirama rolls his eyes, but much to his chagrin, he gives his last sibling a genuine smile. “Don’t flatter yourself. My wife put me up to this.” 

 Hashirama laughs, and Tobirama is glad that it sounds carefree. His eyes form into beautiful crescents, and Tobirama softens. There is his cheerful brother. 

“Give my thanks to her,” Hashirama says. “She is the best of us.” 

 Tobirama nods, and he clutches his hands under the desk. He will always agree to that, because as compared to him, her flaws pale in comparison. 

Hashirama pauses before turning towards the door. “And come visit your eldest nephew and his wife soon. We have heard that they will have a girl in about a month.” Hashirama chuckles giddily. “I will be a grandfather!” 

Tobirama stops breathing, but thankfully, Hashirama has left before he can break down any further. 

 He closes his eyes, and suddenly, he is taken back to a more peaceful morning, as he prepares to travel to Kumogakure. That day will never be erased from his mind, not when he could have connected the pieces that were falling into place that almost cost her life. If he wasn’t so busy, if he just prioritized her a little bit more and only trusted himself to look after her, then maybe he could have been there on time. As the Hokage, it is his job to keep the village safe, but what kind of husband does that make him? When, once again, he has chosen the village over her.

Tobirama remembers her giddy smile, and the warm sensation spreading across his chest as she whispers to him a secret. 

 “ I think it’s a girl ,” she says, unable to control the wide grin spreading across her lips. 

Tobirama feels his heart break further. He hates to see his wife reduced to tears, because those are few and far in between. She is strong, and has always known a clear line between right and wrong. Now, it is almost like she is becoming like him. 

 He was very relieved to hear that she could not ever go through with killing Kimiko, but if he wasn’t there to stop her on time, who knows what could have happened. 

Tobirama does not cry, but if he is going to, this will be the moment he will choose to weep. 

 He feels as if there is nothing he can do, and there is no tangible way to come through on one end in one piece. The gods may just be out there to spite him. 

 Everything is falling apart. He can build kingdoms and construct beautiful castles. He can take dreams and make them into a reality, but they all mean nothing if the people that he centered his life around cannot be with him. 

Being alone has never been a worry for him. Solitude has been his preference for a while now, but being truly alone, and losing those he gave his all for, he would rather lose a limb than bear that kind of loneliness. After all he is human, and not a god. As much as he plays that part. 

//

He finally goes home, having lost his time once again over his endeavours. He trudges up the stairs quietly, and into the bathroom to try and wash up. He feels dirty. There is dried blood caked under his short nails, and he smells like chemicals, ink and death. He carefully peels his shirt over his head, and he stares at his reflection for a moment. 

 He is beginning to resemble the corpses that he hangs out with. 

 He leans over the sink and runs the water. He opts for using the faucet instead of the bathtub, afraid to make loud noises that will wake you. 

“Tobirama?” 

Your husband whirls around, and you give him a once-over. He is trembling a little. You note how messy his hair is–messier than normal–and how his eyes are stark bright like fresh blood, and how his face is becoming knife-like from the days he spends forgoing proper nutrition. Your eyes go to his cheek, where there is a smudge of dirt on it. It almost looks like dried blood, and it makes you swallow your words. 

 You are unsure what to say next, because you have a gut feeling that you should not get closer to Tobirama. He is different from the man you last saw this morning, who was calm and collected. The man before you looks like a stray animal ready to bite the hand that tries to pet them. 

Tobirama tries to get a hold of himself, but his mind and his senses betray him. He feels overwhelmed. 

 "You should be asleep," he mumbles under his breath. 

 "I have been sleeping all day," you reply softly, not wanting to alarm him any further. 

 "Please," Tobirama says. He does not want you to see him like this. You make him feel weak. "Go to bed." 

You ignore the slight hurt that you feel from being dismissed, but this is Tobirama. You have learned how to look beyond what he is saying outrightly. You can sense how freaked out he is. 

 "What happened?" You ask in a low, urgent tone. 

Tobirama turns away and he takes a few deep breaths. He feels like he is about to retch. "Nothing."

 He hears you step closer cautiously, and Tobirama tenses. If you touch him, he will melt and he will let go of any inhibitions he has left. If you touch him, he will want more. If you do, he may also react in a way that may hurt you as he could not bare any human contact on his skin at the moment. Just the thought of it makes his stomach curl.  

"Go to bed," Tobirama repeats and he fills his cupped hands with water. He slaps the water onto his face, but when he opens his eyes, he finds that you are still there. 

 "Tobi," you whisper. 

Water drips from his face and he turns off the faucet. He is not sure what to do next. The two of you have your own brands of stubbornness. 

 The sound of your voice saying his name seems to ground him, and this prompts you to get closer. 

 Tobirama takes the nearest towel to dab his face dry, and when he finishes, you take the towel from him and put it on the pile of used towels.  

"My love," you murmur softly. "Let’s get you dressed for bed." 

Tobirama takes a deep breath, and he turns to you. You wait for him to come to you instead of taking his hand to pull him forward, and from there, you follow him back into your room. Tobirama dresses in silence, and you stand there, your hands opening and closing, trying to figure out what to do next. 

 You are not a stranger to his changing moods, but sometimes they come unexpectedly, and they are not always the same. You know that he has stopped sleeping, and opts to skip meals to attend to whatever it is he’s busying himself with. His silhouette in the darkness is noticeably thinner, and while you are waiting for him to make you understand what he is doing or to let you know what else is bothering him, you are becoming more concerned. 

 You hate to see him like this.  

“Tobirama,” you utter his name, and slowly, you step closer into his space. You see how tense he is, so you make your movements slow and non-urgent. “It’s okay.” 

 You watch him run his fingers through his hair and let out a shaky breath. 

“It’s okay,” you repeat. You try to control the tears that are coming. 

 The shadows of the dark room seem to engulf him, but you will never abandon him and leave him to fend for himself. 

"I'm coming closer," you tell him, and slowly, you slide your arms around his waist from behind.

 You can feel him stiffen, but it does not discourage you. You press your chest on his back and you rest your head in between his shoulder blades, and you hold him. It takes a long time, but finally, his body melts into yours and he gives into your warmth.

 Tobirama lets himself rest in your embrace, and he reminds himself that you are alive, that you are breathing, and your skin has color, not like the ashen gray that dead bodies have. You are warm and supple, not cold and monumental. 

 He is so tired, but there is no such thing as rest for people like him. People like him rest in the battlefield, and it is both their bed and their grave. 

Tobirama rests his arms on yours and he holds your arms. For a moment, you make him still. For a moment, the world falls away, and the races in his mind make its pause. He is not one to ask for much, let alone look for comfort, but for now, he lets himself be held. 

//

After ushering him to bed, Tobirama is silent. 

 You sense that whatever thoughts that are swirling in his mind have settled like dust. He is not trembling anymore, and the natural paleness of his skin has returned, not like the pale green hue that he seems to embody earlier. The two of you face each other, hands entwined on your pillows. Sleep is a faraway thought, but you are glad to have him like this. 

 Tobirama watches you intently as you press a kiss on his knuckles, and then rest his hand under your cheek. 

“I love you,” Tobirama murmurs. He rarely says this, but it always rings true. He feels ashamed for saying this to you after hiding so many secrets, but he never lies about what he feels towards you. Those three words taste gritty on his tongue, but he thinks you must know. Just in case your perception of him changes.

 He doesn't deserve you, and inside, his heart clashes on trying to be worthy of your love and trying to be the leader this village needs. He is always sure of his ways, but when he sees you teetering between black and white, he questions his path because he sees a part of himself in you. 

 Perhaps, you do the same. 

“You have to rest,” you tell him. “Send a shadow clone. Or give yourself a full day-off. For your sake.” 

 “I don’t know how to stop,” he tells you bluntly. “I must remain steadfast.” 

 “Can you really do this for long?” 

“I have to,” Tobirama says. “There is no other way.” 

 Your eyes swim, and the pace of your heart starts to pick up. Those words scare you. 

  Your Senju husband will fail , Madara once said in your dreams. He will do everything right and what he is supposed to do, but in the grand scheme of things, he is nothing. 

You close your eyes, feeling dread creep under your skin. 

“You know I am right,” Tobirama continues. 

 “No.” You bite your lip. “Sometimes your right does not mean it is right.” 

 “I know,” Tobirama says and his eyes refuse to meet yours. 

A tear escapes your eye, but Tobirama is quick to wipe it away with his free hand. 

 “Do not cry for me,” Tobirama says. 

 “How can you say that?” You say with disbelief. “I have the right to cry for you.” 

Tobirama sighs, and rests his palm on your cheek. The two of you begin a staring contest, but you win when Tobirama finally looks away. 

“We’re becoming ridiculous, aren’t we?” 

 “Quite,” Tobirama yawns. 

 “You still have me.” You lean towards him. 

Tobirama pulls you closer, and he holds you to his chest. You close your eyes as you feel his heart underneath your ear. He still holds you as strongly and certainly. 

“I will take your suggestion tomorrow,” Tobirama finally says. “One thing at a time, right?” 

 “Good enough for me,” you murmur into his chest and you press a kiss on it. 

“All right,” Tobirama mutters, and his arms tighten around you.

To be continued...

Chapter 7 - Then >> 

[bestworstcase]

When I was first introduced to Zhan Tiri I didn’t think much of her or who she was cause incoherent/messy writing uezutstks but even so I think like the one ep where she infiltrates Varian’s dream is when I really started to like her. Especially when I rewatched the show like 2 times and then found your blog my admiration for her as a character/villain just grew. Now it boggles my mind to see such hate for her cause I never hated her I just had no opinion on her 💀 but I think it’s because a) she’s a villain who actually did her job as one b) they’re kids cause it’s a kid show oxirxirx & c) butt hurt feelings about her tearing up Cass and Rapunzel’s friendship but I think that one goes in tandem with the first two. Either way not a real coherent way to dislike her imo but ig she’s doing her job as a villain if you do dislike her but idk it might just be me but I love villains no matter the shit they’ve done cause yes to world domination and it’s what the poor baby deserves from all the trauma and bad experiences they’ve endured :(( It’s kinda my brand tbh so Zhan Tiri in general just kinda hits all the right buttons for me dykdtkzi

ksjkfkdg i, um

i feel like the entire rest of the tts fandom hit qfad and went 'oh no! varian!' whereas i hit qfad and went 'DEMON DEMON DEMON MY BELOVED' and then immediately became enraptured with sugracha in painter's block. i uh, did not wait for the show itself to tell me more lmao which did make 3 very interesting to watch because i already had this very well-developed character in my head and to an extent 3 was a game of seeing how well the canon version stacked up. and of course in a situation like that one does have to manage one's expectations and acknowledge that the character living in one's head is, fundamentally, not the character on the screen, so it wasn't like - in no way did i expect to be 'right' about anything with her (although i did get a big kick out of the canon moments that felt bitter snow adjacent, like zhan tiri never introducing herself directly or doing the evil therapist thing and the 'we're not so different' thing with cassandra in OAH).

and honestly i thought canon zhan tiri was fun! while i'm a bit (sometimes more than a bit) salty about the role she played in the story, the lack of development both for her as an individual character and in her relationship with cassandra, and the...everything after she gets her hands on the drops, she's fun, and i had a good time watching her do her thing and like, salty or no going into s3 as a zhan tiri fan i did not leave disappointed.

the fandom on the other hand. 🔪

gjkjksdf it's gotten quite a bit better since the show ended but my god there was a time when the zhan tiri tag was just an endless stream of posts bashing her. but like... even now when the overt hate has petered out for the most part there is virtually no content beyond fics where she's just sort of this even-more-cardboard-than-canon evil entity who exists to torture the faves. but fic where zhan tiri is an important player in her own right, treated like a character rather than a plot device or an angst generator? besides my fics, there's... strings, and destinies fulfilled. expand those criteria to fic that successfully taps into the flavor and fun canon zhan tiri had and we can add murphy's broken effigy series. and that's... it. i want more!!! i'm desperate for more nuanced, fleshed out, interesting takes on zhan tiri and i would actually love it if the fic-writing contingent of the tts fandom in particular could break out of the mold of zhan tiri needing to be evil/a villain—because i think the seeds of potential she has in canon lend themselves very well to anti-villain or even anti-hero roles and i can also think of at least one fic where a fascinating concept for her character was mangled by her being forced into a villain role and framed as a complete monster and that makes me really sad!

...and i've wandered away from the subject at hand gjkskjdfhg tldr i just think she's really neat ToT

[rusted-pipe-of-wisdom]

For the poetry prompts: “The bed we loved in was a spinning world” for Handers?

poem sad writer stupid for @dadrunkwriting

---

"Wait, wait!" Hawke waved, still shaking with laughter. "Gimme a second!"

Anders caught him by the shoulder and put two fingers into the loop of rope, holding it in place. They complimented each other, the harsh angles of Hawke’s body and the shimmering lengths of crimson silk that weaved about him into a harness. Red was his color. Red of a wild crossbill climbing up a tree trunk on a frosty morning. Red of a ripe strawberry bleeding its sweet juice on your lips when you bite it. Red of old wine. Red of blood and fire.

The rafters of the mansion did moan under the weight at first, but after some adjustment appeared to be content.

"Are you alright, love?" Anders asked, planting a messy smooch on the laughing man's lips. The springing sound of Hawke's excitement passed onto him through the touch of his mouth, and somewhere deep within a flight of butterflies replied, tickling his innards with their wings.

"It's awesome! And very comfortable, might I add."

A slight effort of Hawke's hips gave the whole conjuncture enough impulse to start spinning again, slowly this time as Anders glided his hand along Hawke's torso, over knots that distributed pressure and knots that bound, across the beautifully sound structure of restraint and control. His control.

"You're enjoying this way too much," he murmured, cupping Hawke's head in his palms when it passed him. He could get used to it. The shimmer of gold in his lover's eyes, so familiar from the battlefield. Soft threads of long black hair barely touching the sheets. The uncontrollable waves of laughter bubbling up from Hawke's chest. The way his skin bulged over the bonds.

To catch him like this, to trap him, hold him - and just watch. Breathe in the subtle, warm smell of his skin. Comb his hair with your fingertips. Study him, pin down every little detail. Burn it into the back of your skull, brand yourself with his image. Never to let go. Never to lose this sense of eternal peace, harmony with the whole world, being alive, living not in the past nor the future, not numb, not hurting. Being.

"You're beautiful," Anders whispered into the wide smile meeting his lips. "You're so beautiful it hurts to breathe. You're so beautiful that when I look at you it feels like I could cry my eyes out, and when I put my ear against your heart my own starts beating in the same rhythm. You're so beautiful I could kiss every freckle on the tip of your nose and it wouldn't be enough. You’re so beautiful I could wish nothing but to be a mirror in your hallway, bearing your reflection every time you pass me by."

Hawke blinked, his smile dreamy, like he wasn't quite sure if Anders was a real person or a figment of his imagination.

"Wow," he said at last. "You're sappy. You're a sappy, weak mage."

"Is that so? For someone who's dangling from the ceiling you appear to have an unbearably long tongue."

“Wondering what else I can do with it?..”

“Mhm, I can certainly think of a few uses...”

He ran the tip of his tongue along Hawke’s throat, feeling the drum of life and the ocean of air beneath. With a few light nudges he could turn his helpless victim around, lift or pull it down, punish it, tease it, leave it waiting and fearing. He could make that sharp red tongue spill nothing but pleas into his ear.

Red would be his handprint on Hawke’s thigh, red the blush on the wind-carved cheekbones, red the meander of bitemarks on his neck.

He trailed back to Hawke’s chin, leaving glistening traces after every sloppy kiss. He heard Hawke whimper through the clenched teeth and a string of incoherent sounds - presumed to be words of mockery, but forgotten and lost along the way.

“Want me to take you down yet? Not exactly handy with you swinging left and right.”

“Not yet.” Hawke stared past him into the ceiling, where the night spread its shroud over their room and swallowed the clay gargoyles and the frescoes of old heraldry. “Let’s just stay like this... just a while longer.”

[sweeethinny]

some time ago I wrote this fic, and today, after listening to some good 100 times this song, I had to write something about it, so I put these stories together and showed Harry's vision, how they ended up meeting (and I know, I say that Harry was a nurse, but I only noticed this after writing almost 2000 thousand words, which means that I am not going to change this new story and just deleted the paragraph that referred to it, thank you very much.)

I do not agree with any act of vandalism

It was a normal Friday at the bar, the same guys from the executive building had come over after the office spoke badly about the boss, the women from the accounting department went to get the portion of shrimp, chips and salad, along with the usual beers, and almost everyone who was there, Harry knew. It was supposed to be a normal Friday.

But then, the door opened and a redhead came in, not the one who worked at the makeup shop on the corner, nor the teacher of the elementary who would marry next week, no, this was a new. She was short, but she wore black high-heeled boots that stuck to her knee, a black pantyhose, a matching skirt and a gray turtleneck sweater, which made her look like she was coming from a funeral. The redhead was one, if not, the most beautiful woman who had ever entered there, with her hair at the height of her breasts, loose and messy from the wind, big brown eyes, and freckles that painted all over her skin.

''Good night'' Her voice reached him, sweet and melodious, she sat at the bar in front of Harry and that alerted her that she could be coming from a funeral, because if it was a date, she wouldn't sit down there. There were deep dark circles that matched the whole sad scene he had created - a habit he had created since opening the place, always trying to guess what each person was doing there - and Harry almost wanted to hug her and offer his condolences. ''The strongest you have''

''Good night’' He tried hard to say, not wanting to look too shocked by her beauty, serving her properly with the strongest whiskey on the shelf ''Some say it makes fire come out of your ears'' He joked, trying to pull it out least a glare from the most listless brown eyes he had ever seen

‘’Is he good at setting someone on fire too?’’ Harry had met some people during his six years working there, and whenever someone started with these chats, he knew that some tragic love story would reach his ears.

‘’I’ve never tested it, but we’ve already used it to flambe one of our desserts and burned the ceiling’’ Even with that, the story that always made someone at least smile a little terrified, the woman remained listless. Harry beckoned Andrew to take his place by attending Andy, the painter who worked on the fifth floor of the building. "Is everything okay?" The redhead drank the entire dose, tapping the glass on the counter and wiping the drop that ran down the corner of her mouth before crossing her arms and looking at all the people around, as if she were envious of every smile that appeared on unknown faces

‘’Have you ever been betrayed?’’ Harry looked at her, picking up the ice and lemons as he continued to work on the drink from table five, trying to buy time to answer it.

‘’Hm ... Not that I know’’ At least none of his ex’s had said anything about it in the end.

''You should be thankful'' He poured another shot when she pushed the glass towards him, and she took it in a few seconds, her cheeks turning as red as her hair ''It sucks'' Her brown eyes shone for a second and Harry prepared to pick up the handkerchiefs he kept nearby, but then they dried up and were so lifeless they looked ashes

‘‘I’m sorry’’ He smiled when Tom took the glass with the freshly brewed drink, and went back to paying attention to her ‘’What is your name? I never saw you around here’’

‘‘Ginny ’’

‘’Harry’’ The pretty redhead stretched out her hand in greeting, forcing a smile

‘’Do you know everyone who shows up here?’’ He shook her cold hand

''Good part, usually people talk about their lives and we end up remembering them'' Ginny nodded, focusing her eyes on the empty glass in front of her and seeming to think about several things at the same time, and if it weren't for Rihana's music playing, Harry thought he could hear the gears working

‘’My boyfriend ... well, ex boyfriend, he came here. Do you know him?'' She opened the photo on her cell phone, showing her next to Michael, smiling from ear to ear as they drank ice cream, and Harry did his best to contain the shock when he saw the man who worked in the tattoo parlor and never left the bar alone. How could anyone betray someone like her?

‘’Huh… Yes. I think we talked at one time or another’’ He omitted, not wanting to delve into the fact that he had introduced Jones to Michael yesterday.

'’It seems that everyone knew that he was cheating on me but they didn't want to tell me. They preferred to make me a clown! My own friends!’’ This time there were tears, and Ginny made no effort to contain them ‘‘I am an idiot’’

''Of course not, they are'' Harry sat on the bench across from her, still on his side of the bar ''Michael didn't deserve you'' Not after going out with more than a year with several girls ( and he didn't think it was a short relationship, due to her sadness) ''You are too beautiful for him'' Ginny finally laughed, a little bitterly, but still a laugh

‘’And who would I be pretty to?’’ Harry shrugged

‘’I don’t know,I don't think there is a guy for work. But if you like women, maybe you’re more lucky’’ She laughed again, sniffling and wiping tears from her sweater sleeve. This time he took the handkerchiefs.

‘’We were together for five years ... Five years and God knows how many betrayals’’ His heart ached, wanting to go back in time and hit that filthy guy in the face ‘’I arrived on a trip and .. surprise! There he was with the barmaid on our sofa’’ Ginny forced a smile, taking the rest of the whiskey and hiding her face with her hands, seeming to cry even more

‘’He’s an idiot, you know that, don’t you?’’

‘’No more than me’’ Harry denied, taking the hands off her pretty face, trying his hardest not to wipe her tears-wet cheeks, or putting the red strands behind her ear, just taking another handkerchief and handing it over

‘‘It is forbidden to self-sabotage in this bar’’ Ginny laughed softly, wiping her wet face and giving little sobs ‘’I won’t let you think shit about you, when he was the one who missed. There was no way for you to know, there are no signs or any indications to let us know that the person is complete shit.’’

‘‘Well, there should be, I’d avoid a few years of being an idiot’’ Harry swallowed, not sure what to say, but then remembering something. He opened the drawer next to it, pulling out a box he had gotten from his mother and was saving for later

‘‘Take one’’ Harry pointed to the untouched chocolates, pulling the lid off and placing it close to her face ‘‘My uncle always says they improve any mood’’

‘’How can I know they’re not poisoned?’’ It was a valid question

‘’Pick one, and I’m going to eat’’ She looked at him, her brown eyes looking more like melted sugar and less like the ash at the bottom of the fireplace. Harry preferred that look, even if smudged with mascara. Ginny pulled out one of the truffles and handed it over, which he ate with common devotion, feeling the incredible taste of cherry liqueur mixed with dark chocolate, all melting in his mouth in the most perfect way. ‘’The best in all of London’’ He smiled ‘’Now, take one’’ And the redhead did it.

‘’Thank you’’ She smiled a little sheepishly, chewing on the truffle that should have been chocolate and pepper, and looking a little calmer than a few minutes ago. At least the hiccups were almost gone. ''I wanted to get back at him'' Maybe it was her beauty, maybe it was the fact that Harry thought he owed her something because he never noticed Michael dating - even if it was impossible, as he said, there were no signs or indicators - but it didn't take long for him to respond;

‘’Do you want help?’’ And so it was that after work, he ended up taking Ginny to a nearby neighborhood to break Michael’s car

‘’Don’t worry, my brother works at the police station and can cover up a case of vandalism. If, Michael has the courage to report, which I doubt’’ She reassured him, sitting in the passenger seat and finishing eating the last chocolate from the box, which he willingly gave her

‘’So, is this it?’’ He parked on the corner, happy that there were no security cameras on the street or the buildings around. The gray car was parked not far away, looking brand new.

‘‘Yep’’ Ginny got out of the car, looking much more angry than when she arrived at the bar, putting on the hoodie that Harry had borrowed and going steadily towards her final destination.

As promised, he followed her, taking care of her back while the redhead did all the destruction with a golf club he kept in the trunk, scratching the shiny paint and murmuring swear words and slightly incoherent phrases

''I once found panties in the back seat'' She said while explaining why the car ''And he told me I was going crazy, that that was my panties'' Ginny rolled her eyes, her cheeks purple "And when I once complained that he spent more time taking care of the car than going out with me, he said, 'it's just that the car doesn't complain so much'".

Harry looked over his shoulder, seeing that she was spilling a jar of old oil, which he had taken out to put in the trash, on the seats and steering wheel, while angry tears fell from her eyes, leaving her much more mascara painted than before.

As soon as she finished, falling in the middle of the street and sobbing in a loud cry, Harry knew he needed to get them out of there before some curious neighbor wanted to know what that noise was, or was going to take out the trash, so he picked her up as if it were the most precious thing in the world, letting Ginny soak his shirt with tears and shaking hands to grab him as if it were the only thing that would protect her at that moment

‘’Why does it still hurt, Harry?’’ Her tone made his chest ache and tighten, placing it inside the car and then leaving the crime scene - could it be called that?.

‘‘I don’t know, Ginny’’ he say sincerely ‘‘Revenge never really comforts, it doesn’t bring anything back’’

‘’He had no right to play with me like that!’’ 

''No''

''I hate him so much'' The sobs echoed back in the car ''I don't think I'll ever be able to love anyone again'' Harry looked at her, her hair totally messed up, her face dirty with makeup and red from drink, her eyes swollen crying, and red lips trembling, looking just as vulnerable as Teddy on waking from a nightmare or going 5 minutes without Tonks or Remus around. Harry sighed, saddened that a woman like her was suffering like that for someone so ridiculous and filthy, that he didn't deserve even a hair of her stress. Ginny definitely deserved to be happy and to be loved, and it was a shame that they met at a time like this, because Harry can imagine himself - even if for a second - by her side.

‘’It’s never too long ... There must be someone’’.

[evanescentdawn]

it’s wip wednesday!!

i have been trying my hand in writing smut lately, so! here’s a snippet of this pwp soohee. i love them so much. 

The noises that she lets out are loud and incoherent, and exactly how Jung Heewon loves it. 

She smirks, and uses her free hand to smoothly, quickly, unfasten the buttons on Han Sooyoung’s blouse as she swallows Han Sooyoung’s moans with her mouth. When her shirt is off, in a messy, disorganised mess of limbs, they try to move up and towards the bed, whilst wanting to keep being locked with each other. In their attempts, Jung Heewon gets hit in the face with Han Sooyoung’s hands and she ‘accidently’ kicks her in the side, but they manage it somehow in the end.

Jung Heewon is the one pressed back on the bed, muffling her voice on her arm, as Han Sooyoung’s mouth burns along the inside of her thighs. She’s completely bare except for her underwear, which is soaking wet. She’s throbbing, aching, everything all too much. 

“Fuck.” Jung Heewon gasps. “Are you not going to—Ahh!—hurry up?” 

“What would be the fun in that?” Han Sooyoung breathes hotly against her, and continues to tease her, her mouth a brand of fire on her thigh. Jung Heewon really, really hates her. 

“Fuck you—“ is all Jung Heewon manages out, before rest turns into a moan as Han Sooyoung finally touches her, even if it’s through her underwear. The pressure of her fingers is just what she needs. 

She arches and moans, mind going blinding blank.

“What? What was that? You want more?” 

[prettywordsyouleft]

Head First

Anonymous said:

Congrats on your milestone. Daring is dangerous Chelle! I dare you to write yourself with Jinyoung and admit that you love him! Everyone knows your hatred is actual love for him! Not a enemy to lovers au like you usually do either. Love from first sight!

Pairing: Park Jinyoung x reader

Genre: love at first sight / office au / fluff

Warnings: none

A/N: You know, anon, daring is dangerous. And you didn’t specify who was the one who fell in love first, hehehehe. Prepare yourself for a different Jinyoung – after all, there’s no enemies to lovers au in this XD

Word count: 2742

He didn’t understand why he was like this around you. Jinyoung had always prided himself as someone with tact and was respected by all those he worked alongside. From his university degree to the office, he was known for his tenacity for a productive working environment.

Yet why was he falling head first at your feet every time he crossed paths with you?

“Are you alright, Jinyoung?” you asked with concern, reaching out your hand but he wasn’t going to allow you to help him scrape himself off the ground. He was dumbfounded and frankly mortified to have tripped over, well, his own feet in front of you.

Slipping your hand back to the folders you held in your arms, you smiled weakly, nodding a little as you walked on by. And once you were out of sight, Jinyoung let out a groan, thumping the wall beside him.

Just what was wrong with him when it came to you?

“I did it again,” he admitted with an elongated sigh as his roommate Jackson handed him the ice pack he had requested. Although he had acted as if his clumsy fall at work hadn’t amounted to much during working hours, once he was off the clock, he was all but limping to the underground parking lot. Now sprawled out on the couch with the cooling pack over the affected area, Jinyoung let out another exasperated whine. “Just why do I keep being so clumsy in front of Y/N?!”

“Because you like her.”

“I don’t even know her!” Jinyoung retorted, throwing his hands up in the air. “Unlike you, I can’t even speak more than four words to her without stuttering or ending up injuring myself! This is the third time I’ve embarrassed myself in front of her. The members in my team are starting to talk; soon I’ll be the butt end of every joke at the company!”

Jackson grinned, shrugging a little as he threw back the remnants of some green juice he made as his pre-workout fuel. Jinyoung glared at his friend, he wouldn’t be able to get in a good gym session tonight with how sore his ankle felt and that annoyed him too.

“Maybe next time try and aim to fall on your butt. It’s probably got the most cushion to handle how clumsy you are right now.”

“I’m not amused.”

“Come on, Jinyoung! Just admit it. What was it like when you very first saw Y/N? Sure, she seems nice enough to me, but something had to have happened when you first met her for you to be this messed up. She’s not someone who’s going to turn heads everywhere she goes, that’s for sure.”

Jinyoung sighed; you were definitely average in looks and skills to most people. As an entry-level worker who was older, you had gained attention quickly throughout the office before Jinyoung had first crossed paths with you. Not many were hired so long out of university by the company and so rumours had travelled fast on what your situation was. Unlike the rest, gossiping wasn’t something Jinyoung partook in during his office hours, focused on getting the tasks he needed to be done and in a productive manner.

It was on your third day when he finally met you when you stepped into the elevator he was already on. Not that he had seen you yet, just the enormous stack of papers you carried. “Oh uh, excuse me, could you please push level eight for me? I can’t let this go right now.”

“Done,” he replied after pressing the button. And like he always did for other employees, Jinyoung reached out to help take some of your load. He took half the stack of reports off the top which you started reacting to immediately.

“Oh thank you! I didn’t expect help but it’s so nice to have someone to share the burden with!”

Now with your face exposed from behind the stack of papers, Jinyoung’s stomach lurched immediately. He wasn’t sure why his body was now tingling or what the reason was for how round his eyes had grown at seeing your face. Yet his system had gone into overdrive, his heart now thumping erratically in his chest.

“You’re very kind for helping me,” you continued, leaning around your stack to read his name badge. “Thank you, Park Jinyoung.”

And it was the warm smile you shot him after saying his name that sealed his ill fate, the weight within his arms dropping and scattering over the entire elevator floor. For the first time in his working career, he was openly flustered, attempting to apologise and scrape everything up before the doors dinged open, your smile now weak, restrained. It was a scramble, and he was certain in your eyes he looked like a complete idiot. Jinyoung had managed to pick everything up just in time for the doors to spring open, dashing out of the elevator and then dumping the pile of files on top of the reception counter for the sales office. He couldn’t even remember if he had said goodbye to you, acutely aware of the weird incoherent sound he had made as he sped walked down the hallway to his department.

Your first encounter had been such a mess, and despite all attempts, he had only continued to be flustered and seemingly incapable of being a proper functioning human in front of you.

Jinyoung sighed, shaking his head. “The only thing that happened was I was a complete idiot and I’ve been that way since.”

“Hm, let’s see,” Jackson replied thoughtfully, reaching out to place a solemn hand over his friend’s head. He then jerked it away dramatically and nodded his head in answer. “That’s it, I dub thee lovesick.”

“You’re not helping.”

“Nor is your damsel in distress act whenever you see her. I have to admit, I’m deeply amused. You, of all people, are the last one I expected to become this messy when you have a crush.”

“I do not have a crush!”

“Jinyoung, you basically avoid her at all costs, even I’ve seen you do it. You definitely are feeling something for her.”

“Yeah, continued mortification,” he grumbled, the annoyance he felt sinking his stomach further.

Jinyoung desperately wanted to regain common ground in the very least. His pride and professionalism were at stake the longer you bothered him and he had worked too hard to let it slip away all because of, well, he still wasn’t prepared to claim he had a crush on you. This wasn’t high school and he was a grown man capable of relationships with others.

He would just have to work harder and prove that whatever silly phase he was in would soon pass. Jinyoung was determined to not let you affect him any longer.

His determination was short-lived. The very next day he had locked himself in the supplies closet by accident when he saw you and diverted his path, stepping into the first room he could find. On Tuesday he accidentally split his iced coffee on his brand new shirt when he choked on his straw when you greeted him on passing and by Thursday he could tell you were now uncomfortable to even see him around the office.

He had successfully made you just as awkward as he was.

And when the doors opened to the elevator and showed you he was riding inside, Jinyoung noticed the way you hesitated to step on. Still, you did so and he pressed himself into the wall anxiously, hoping if he stayed away from you and remained silent, this would be the longest time in your company where he didn’t make a complete fool of himself.

Or you.

“Can I ask you something?” you finally said after a minute of travelling in silence and Jinyoung glanced at you quickly, gripping the bar when he felt his heart rate increase. You sighed heavily. “Are you having fun?”

“F-fun?”

“With teasing me. Everyone says you’re one of the best workers here and very diligent. Yet all I’ve seen out of you is… well, are you acting stupid on purpose?”

Great. So now all this had amounted to you thinking he was doing this intentionally. Jinyoung groaned internally at the predicament before moistening his lips in preparation to talk. Right then, the doors sprang open and he sucked in a deep breath of relief seeing Jackson step inside.

“Morning Y/N!” Jackson greeted and then turned to his friend. “What’s wrong with you? Are you hyperventilating? Ah is it because of-”

“Justdropit,” Jinyoung breathed out hastily, uncaring if this was his stop or not when the doors opened again. He dashed out into the hallway and then turned for the door for the stairs, leaning against the wall as he willed himself to take deep breaths in and out.

Just why were you making him so pathetic?

Jinyoung began to take the stairs for everything. It was safer that way, no longer needing to worry about bumping into you whilst he made his way throughout the company building. Sure, it was a downright hassle, and everyone thought he was nuts even when he proclaimed he was using it as exercise since he sat in a chair all day.

Still, it was easier than dealing with his issue with you.

And because of this newfound avoidance tactic, Jinyoung hadn’t seen you for three weeks.

He thought he’d be more pleased about this.

And he was to some extent. No longer did he leave the office kicking himself for being so flustered each day. He didn’t spend his nights ruminating over how he could have prevented an incident with you earlier in the day because he hadn’t had one. And he was much more productive with his work.

Instead, he yearned to break away from this new habit just to see if he was cured of acting ridiculous in front of you.

And he realised he was feeling down because he hadn’t seen you in person.

Which was completely confusing for him. Of all the things Jinyoung wanted to be known for, clumsy and incapable were not it. And yet that’s all you knew of him. Sure, he had tried to change that and then you had come back with thinking his behaviour was intentional.

He hadn’t faced his problem; in fact, he had run from it and that was equally as stupid as before.

Because strangely, he missed you.

Jinyoung couldn’t fathom how he missed someone he didn’t exactly know more than a name about. He understood missing a family member you hadn’t seen in months. Or a friend who moved overseas. A connection that was lost. But he had no relationship with you and seeing you usually gave him anxiety.

Why did he crave seeing you even after establishing you were the cause to all of his incompetence?

This uneasiness compelled him to linger in hallways more than necessary. He slowly started to return to using the elevator. And strangely, he hadn’t crossed pathways with you within an entire week.

“Y/N?” Jackson repeated as Jinyoung enquired about you, and his friend speared a piece of sushi with a chopstick before frowning. “Didn’t you know she took time off? Maybe a week ago she stopped coming into the office. Something about a child needing her? I think she’s a solo parent.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?!”

Jackson looked at Jinyoung as if he had sprouted an extra head. “Dude, you were losing it over that girl and specifically preached that I never mention her in front of you. Sue me for actually following through for once.”

Now Jinyoung was foolishly mourning the loss of a potential connection – one that he had been blundering his way through over the past three months.

Turning down the chance to go out with his friends in the weekend, Jinyoung instead went to do the groceries, mulling over the list Jackson had given him and trying to decide if the packet he held was macro and organic or not.

And before he had the chance to move off, a familiar face came into his view, smiling hesitantly at him. “Jinyoung, hello.”

“Y/N, who’s that?” the young teenage boy beside you asked and you brushed the hair away from your face and sighed.

“Jinyoung is someone I used to work with.”

“Was my sister really good at her job?! I keep telling her to go back now that I’m better but she won’t!” the boy implored and Jinyoung merely opened his mouth and then closed it again.

You took that as a sign to move on. “Let’s not bother him anymore, hm? It looks like he’s busy with his groceries.”

Before you left the aisle, Jinyoung spun around, taking in a sharp inhale. “I think I like you!”

“W-what?”

Waiting for you to turn around, Jinyoung gripped onto his grocery cart and nodded. “Actually, I know I do. I wasn’t doing it intentionally. You just made me really flustered, is all.”

“Me?” you repeated, glancing at your brother beside you and then back at Jinyoung. “You were flustered by me?”

“Why not, Y/N? You’re awesome!”

Jinyoung nodded rapidly in agreement, feeling dizzy with the action. He groaned. “You see, I don’t know why you get to me but you have ever since I met you. That’s why I made all those errors. I must’ve looked like a fool in front of you, and I often tried not to. And I’m honestly not this clumsy or ridiculous or pathetic normally. Yet in front of you, it was as if my brain stopped working. I even tried avoiding you, taking the stairs instead so you wouldn’t be burdened by me.”

“So that’s where you disappeared to,” you murmured, your smile growing shy.

“You had been looking out for me?”

Nodding, you chewed at your lip. “I kind of missed you.”

“Just kind of?” your brother chirped and you tried to grab onto his mouth to silence him. “If this is the guy who you kept complaining about, then you definitely have missed him. She’s been moping. Take her back to work, please. I’m honestly okay now!”

“Why don’t you go find us what’s left on the list and I’ll pretend I didn’t see the cookies you slipped into the cart earlier,” you bargained, handing the shopping list over to your brother and then clasped your hands in front of you as he went off eagerly. You let out a small laugh. “I guess I missed you more than I wanted to admit. Which is weird right? Because I only know your name.”

Jinyoung shook his head, smiling broadly. “No, I missed you too.”

“You did?”

“My buddy Jackson believes in love at first sight and I always told him that was nonsense. But I can’t think of any other reason as to why you have stirred my life up completely. And sure, love is a bit… well, I wouldn’t go as far to say I love you because all I know about you is your name and that you have a brother. But I’m ready to find out more if you are. This could be the start of love, at least.”

“I didn’t take you for such a romantic,” you teased, though you nodded lightly, your blush indicating just how affected you were by his admission. “And maybe it’s lust at first sight?”

“It’s something,” he admitted with a chuckle and you giggled in response.

Which promptly turned his legs to jelly and he had to crouch before he fell to the ground. Looking up at you exasperatedly, you stooped down to his level, grinning at him happily. “I’m looking forward to getting to know more about you Jinyoung, but could you stop falling at my feet? You make me feel bad because normally it’s me who is incredibly clumsy and in front of you, strangely I’m doing better than I thought. Maybe this is some sort of love.”

You held out your hand and he finally took it, the warmth radiating up his arm making him bury his face in his free hand with how foolish he was acting. Still, he didn’t let you go and you made no attempt to do so either.

“Try to have some patience with me as I combat this, please?”

“With how adorable you’re being towards me, I could wait forever if you needed me to.”

_________________

All rights reserved © prettywordsyouleft

[GOT7 Masterlist] | [Main Masterlist] | [Request Guidelines]

[juleswolverton-hyde]

Induratize | 02

Genre: Smut, PwP

Pairing: Sugar Daddy/Creative Writing Professor!Namjoon x Student!Reader

Warnings: Unprotected doggy style sex in a bathroom (ALWAYS do it safely, lads and lasses), fingering, squirting, Dom!/Top!Namjoon, swearing/cussing, dirty talk

Summary: It is near impossible to guard one’s heart against love, especially during the prime years of youth. Slowly but surely, resistance is harder to keep up when affection is shown on a daily basis from a forbidden side.

However, forbidden does not always necessarily mean wrong.

Such is the argument of a wolf longing for a little doe.

Author’s Note: Induratize (v.); to make one’s own heart hardened or resistant to someone’s pleas or advances, or to the idea of love.

Masterlist

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

There is only so long one can run from wolves, especially when having aggravated them. The sounds of the massive crowd rushing over the concrete of the station does not distract the clear focus of the predator nor does the amalgamation of the warm scents of freshly brewed coffee from one of the many spots around the historical edifice. As long as the light falls in through the glass ornate ceiling above the tracks and the artificial lamps remain turned on in the wide halls, the hunt shall not be stopped.

‘Where do you think you’re going, little doe?’ A generous arm clad in warm onyx wool wraps around the middle out of nowhere to draw it back into the fresh scent of a forest after the rain, the mocking lips of the pied piper chuckling into hair.

‘Prof- Professor,’ the fast-beating heart in the heated chest of the tawny wolf is pressed against the spine, the sheer presence and weight of it as curiously mesmerizing thanks to its possessiveness as what had been pressed against the behind earlier as well, ‘this is, ahem, highly inappropriate.’

Why keep up this fantasy? I know I am nothing to you, that you are just sadistically toying with me.

‘Is it? Nobody here knows what we are to each other. For all they know, I’m your boyfriend.’ A kiss on conflicted strands goes paired with a boyish giggle almost nullifying the perversity of the situation, lashes fantasizing about having a real relationship fluttering close in sheer bliss for a moment. Content, even if the bond is based around money and emotions are never really reciprocated. ‘They don’t know I’m your sugar daddy.’

‘I- I-’ Hips snap as they did in the train, erasing every sense of logic thought in a split second as the sensual heat from before rekindles. ‘I, mhm, sir, I don’t nee- need- oh, fuck!’

‘I told you to call me by my name, didn’t I? So why won’t you?’ Plush lips ghost over the side of the neck, warm breath setting every nerve on fire in paradoxical anticipation. ‘Maybe I need to convince you. Or,’ teeth sink into the side of the throat as digits glide over the mouth opening in a surprised gasp, ‘ teach you manners.’

In a flash, the hold from behind is made undone to be replaced by a firm grip on the wrist, resulting in being dragged along to the nearest unisex bathroom. Here, freedom is temporarily granted during the small moment it takes to lock the door before a sturdy hand grabs the waist whilst its counterpart snakes around the back of the neck, hiding beneath loose locks whereas the other violently tugs down the fabric of the haphazardly pulled on leggings. Any other woman would have been afraid if their professor had done the same, but that unknown man is not Namjoon and the situation would not have been fuel for sinful fiction. Henceforth, consent to the rough handling is given wordlessly in the feigned helpless gaze at the domineering tutor.

Eyes meet anew in the mirror after being harshly turned around, maintaining contact as slender honey digits explore the wanton desire which essentially forms the foundation for every tale that comes forth in class and private. The toying continues for a bit, the creative writer clearly finding pleasure in the gradually building desperation finding a voice in weak whines.

‘You’d really leave me hanging like that? It’s not polite to let me walk to university with an obvious bulge, little doe, especially,’ all play is over as it takes solely one intruding advance to nullify every thought immediately and be thrown into the melting that feels like wildfire, ‘when you’re the cause of it. What did I tell you each time you wanted to move on to a new project without finishing the old one?’

There is no room to adjust to the unprotected sheer size of the author unintentionally kept on a leash, harsh hips relentlessly claiming what has been longed for. The answer to the question does not surface because every time it tends to, it is cruelly shattered to incoherent bits by a savage growl unable to be kept waiting in the chase for possession and oblivious ignorance. ‘I- I can’t, shit! I can’t r- re- remember.’

‘Finish what you started, Y/N. That’s what I told you and so you’ll take my veiny cock, whether you want to or not.’ A low baritone chuckle filters through the haze behind closed eyes as a warm secure palm folds over lips bitten down on by teeth endeavouring to restrain pathetic mewls hardly containing their overwhelming joy. Forcefully, a look in the mirror is established, the sight melting the last remnants of muscle in shaking legs but fortunately being kept steady by compelling darkened espresso eyes glaring from between tightly held messed-up locks. ‘Look in the mirror, see how I, how your wolf is fucking that tight pussy open. God, you’re gorgeous. Nice and complacent, having no choice but- Yeah, tighten around that big dick. No choice but to take me.’

The loud embarrassing drip of something on the tiles breaks through the baritone grunts and muffled ruined mascara cries of pleasure, something in the sudden hollow sensation in the aftermath of the first explosion of sensual elevation being much to Namjoon’s delight after a disgruntled yet surprised snarl. ‘I didn’t know you’d like it that much, little doe.’ Without a word of warning, bodies are joined in coyness once more. Notwithstanding, the union is a paradoxical mixture of pain and satisfaction in a different manner, for now, overstimulated nerves are denied the recovery from their watery floating in ignorance and brutally brought back to the wonderfully fulfilling reality. ‘But guess we’ll- shit, still tight... fucking wet, do it like this from now on since preparation apparently isn’t, grm, needed.’

From- From now on? I... I’m his?

The conflict likely shining through in the flowing tears finds assurance in the confirmation which was already assumed yet could not be believed. ‘Yes, from now on. I’m what you need, what you want. You’ve made that clear more than once.’ A particular hard advance compels the upper body to lie down on the cool counter entirely, forced into complete submission to the tawny wolf wonderfully claiming what has secretly been his all along. ‘Thirsting after me, squirting over my cock like that. Don’t think I haven’t seen you stealing glances at my bulge, baby.’ 

A protest wants to be made but is swallowed down before it can find an unintelligible noise to be voiced in for sneaky peeks have, indeed, been stolen in the classroom or lecture hall when thought to have been unnoticeable. Clearly, the opposite is the truth of the matter.

‘You like it, baby? This is how it feels, how your wolf feels. What I’ve wanted all this time, wanted while fluffing myself before- hrm, ah- before teaching you.’ Trying and succeeding in deepening the primal bond, growling teeth leave behind a gorgeous mark of belonging on the side of the neck while hips accelerate, driven to utter madness. To the degree nothing can be said by the human beneath the skin of the beast and thus lets the body speak for itself. Exactly like the little doe irretrievably hypnotized by the bruising grip on the waist in combination with the sharp sting of hair being tugged on and lewd noises resonating between the walls.

The revelation alongside the brand makes the heart almost dance in perverse joy, the knowledge to grace unspeakable fancies and being claimed thus evoking a misplaced yet wonderful delight. So much so that it is enough to be kicked off the edge that precariously has been balanced on again, taking the forbidden lover along by unconsciously narrowing the connection and letting fingers entangle in messy dark golden locks.

And for a while, everything is extraordinarily beautiful and right. The filling intimacy, the warm breath on the side of the throat, the sturdy arms around the waist keeping up both fools standing in delirium. Outside this very moment, there is nothing.

Nothing except us.

All that is misguided.

‘I want you to stay after class.’ The contextless command, for tone leaves little room to assume it is anything else, pulls the mind floating in personal reverie back to the present to reflect on the implications of giving in to the tall dominant writing tutor.

‘Namjoon... I- I mean, professor.’ Irises having regained a sense of Logic turn away from the lovely view in the mirror of tawny locks still enjoying their high burying their adorable button nose into personal strands, breaking it up. It is a crying shame, but the incomprehension calls for elaboration on why the academic would want more time together. Certainly because this is a mistake. A grave, severe mistake. ‘Wha- What we’ve done. I shouldn’t- I didn’t want to lead you on.’

‘Don’t call me that. Just call me by my name.’ Unapologetically, the wonderful physical spell is made undone for the second and last time, the expected comfort at the awkward hollow sensation below remaining absent as punishment. A mocking grin tugs on the corners of plush lips, apparently finding something humorous in the messed-up situation. ‘Funny how you blame yourself while I’m the one who initiated it. You liked it, didn’t you, little doe?’

‘Y- Yes, but... it’s, ah, well, uhm...’ The caress of honey digits over the brand on the side of the throat ending in a squeeze of the shoulder alongside the one over the cheek melts away the ability to speak, all vocabulary craftily used when writing vanishing at once at the gentle touch of the affectionate gaze looking down.

Watching over their territory.

Guarding what they love.

That which they should not. 

‘It’s what? Use your words, baby.’ A low chuckle evokes warring feelings of Sense and Passion, not knowing which should prevail outside the university grounds where it is possible to be anything and anyone. Nobody here knows about the actual relationship that goes on between a tall young man and a wee lass differing in age with him a tad. 

Notwithstanding, the wonderful reverie is lifted when leaning sideways to undo the intimacy after mustering all inner strength and let palms soak in the cold of the stone sink by moving ever so slightly to untouched spots on the surface. ‘It’s wrong, si- Joon. I’m your pupil, someone taking classes from you.’

‘You might be, but I’m still a man, Y/N.’ Undaunted by the sudden distance, big palms rest themselves on either side of the waist as cushiony lips place a chaste kiss on the forehead. ‘A man who wants to take care of you, who wants to be more to you than simply a professor. I promise you our relationship won’t be solely about sex. I’ve shown that more than once by offering to pay for your food and coffee, didn’t I?’

‘So...’ Fluttering lashes barely dare to look up at the adorable button nose of which the eyes hold nothing but sincerity in the oddly loving expression that makes the heart flutter in spite of trodding down the wrong path with the pied piper. ‘When you asked me to have lunch together, you’d never wanted to, you know, let this happen?’

‘Not without your permission.’ Hands rub the upper arms affectionately, smiling faintly when small palms place themselves on bared honey hips. Their voice is sincere, assuring of holding nothing but honest intentions despite the forbidden aspect of the relationship that might overtake entirely if it is not stopped at once. ‘I won’t make you do things you don’t want to. All those times I asked you to eat together, I genuinely wanted to make sure you’d at least had something in your system to make it through the coming hours.’ 

A low chuckle speaks another truthful wish for one who should not be loved in the way she is. Nevertheless, a little doe is. ‘Though having dinner together would be a nice change of pace.’

And it is entrancingly exciting. 

‘Dinner?’ A pretty image of sharing a meal by candlelight unwillingly carves a timid though anticipating smile onto lips, fiercely longing for something that cannot be.

Or can be if the game is played cunningly and outside spectators are kept in the dark. 

We could do this because maybe, no, he surely loves me. Why else would he be my sugar daddy? Although, perhaps that is precisely where the fault lies since the bond would still be based around money and sex. That’s how these types of relationships work.

‘Yeah. And I’d walk you home afterwards, just to be sure you’re safe and sound. And only if you’d want it,’ foreheads rest on each other in a warm air of a lush forest and water lilies blooming in a pond beneath an orange tree when spring comes, plush lips ghosting over an eagerly following mouth which hungers for more, ‘I’d stay.’

‘Is that why you want me to remain after class?’

Please let that be the reason. Please promise me this will indeed not be solely about sex. That I am also more to you just as you are to me.

‘Maybe.’ An innocent grin nullifies the sexual atmosphere as palms briefly relieve their protective hold to swiftly correct the dislocated clothes below. However, when trousers are in order again, Professor Kim... Namjoon envelops the waist again in a loving embrace going accompanied by an unavoidable affectionate peck on the nose, stilling the stupid worry that the gesture of making one’s outfit in order after what has transpired indicates being solely interested in sensual transactions. ‘But I thought it’s nice if we hop on the bus together and I’ll drop you off at the right tracks before going home myself.’

‘That’s sweet.’ The response comes out more mockingly than intended, bitter Logic still endeavouring to kill any hopes of actually continuing this make-believe for that is essentially what this is.

Has to be.

A silly game.

Unsustainable.

As it might turn out to be in reality, but not in imagination as stories have proven time and again. Henceforth, let another be shakily written at this starting point.

And see its way into the world.

The brilliant creative writer picks up on the persevering doubt caused by conflicting thoughts and emotions, every molecule making up the novice writer engaged in the ancient war of Mind and Heart, and in turn becomes hesitating himself. Voice contains a pleading undertone as the low hug fuses two lovers together albeit not in the coy sense, but just as intimate with the desire to stay. ‘You’re doubting me.’

Together.

This is wrong, but he’s good to me. Always has been. Maybe he really is in love with me, though it could just be a farce simply to get sex. No, he isn’t like that. He cares and that’s why he does what he does. I’m going in circles. We could try. I could let him try.

‘I’m not! It’s just that- I don’t know. I don’t know how to feel about this.’ Happiness is anxiously within reach, the alluring manifestation of a goal never to be thought to actually be achieved with the tawny wolf. Withal, it is right there, right here, ripe for the taking. If only all inhibitions are let go of and the truthful Self, the newbie novelist heavily in love with her muse, turns selfish as a reward for doing the right thing for so long. After all, such a change should be allowed as a reward.

Right?

‘Maybe you will after we get some coffee. You look tired and I’m afraid you won’t make it through the day after what happened here.’ The concentration on indecision is broken up by a hand affectionately caressing the cheek like before, turning the chin upwards a tad to lock gazes after setting every vein on fire by gliding over the jaw. ‘In any case, know I’m not lying. I’m really head over heels for you.’ 

Long honest-speaking legs lower into a crouch to pull up the roughly pulled down legging again and correct today’s simple outfit. Once composed enough to face the public again, Namjoon holds out an arm clad in onyx wool to clutch along the way. ‘You can hold on to me and we’ll find somewhere nice and quiet. Come on, let’s go.’

[findingyouagain]

𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙴 𝚆𝙴 𝙶𝙾 ( 𝙰𝙶𝙰𝙸𝙽 ).

Do not grieve. Anything you lose comes again in another form. —Rumi

"I'm late. I'm late!"

She rushed down the staircase, feet pounding against each step. The third step to the bottom creaked beneath her weight as it did every day. Damp hair dripped onto the white railing. Reaching the first floor of the house, Kennedy made her way to the kitchen, sliding across the hardwood floor with her blue socks and pulling her hair into a messy ponytail. "Dad, I'm late!"

"I see that."

Bryan Steele sat at the kitchen table. His horn-rimmed glasses rested on his nose as his hazel eyes scanned the newspaper in his hands. Kennedy could only make out the headline: something about a missing couple. The sunlight streaming from the window above the sink reflected off his glass of orange juice, shining onto Bryan's brown hair. He was already dressed for the day—tan khakis and a navy button-up shirt. His blue scrubs for work lay on top of the few patient folders he had brought home from the hospital the night before.

"Well, why didn't you wake me up?" She had one foot pressed against the pale yellow, almost white wall, tying the laces of her Nike tennis shoes.

Bryan ran a hand through his hair, dropping the paper onto the table and grabbing a piece of bacon off his plate. "I thought you had decided to jog to school this morning and already left." He took another bite. "That's what I told Bonnie when she came to pick you up a few minutes ago."

She finished tying her other shoe and sighed. Great, she also had no ride to school. "Well, now I definitely have to run—unless I can borrow Mom's bike?"

"Tires are flat," came his gruff reply. He was biting back a grin. "You'd be even later if you tried to air them up. Besides, jogging to school won't kill you. Consider it early track practice."

Kennedy let out an incoherent grumble before slinging her bag onto her back. "Yeah, well, guess I'm going to stink of sweat all day. Great way to start off my senior year!" She opened the side door. "—and wipe that smirk off your face, Dad. It's not a handsome look on you." The door slammed shut, and the slap, slap, slap of running feet on asphalt could be heard.

Heart racing, Kennedy leaned against her gray locker and let out a ragged breath. Despite jogging every morning, running three miles to school left the teen breathless, as well as hot and sweaty. For once, Kennedy was glad to have stored a spare pair of clothes in her gym locker for after track practices.

Her eyes scanned the crowded hallways. Already, colorful posters about clubs to join and student government elections littered the walls. Eager teenagers wandered, chatting about which beach they had visited and who they had hooked up with over the summer break. Kennedy sighed, not quite understanding why she was supposed to miss this in ten months' time. Mindless babble and petty drama? She wasn't interested in dealing with it for another year, let alone after she graduated from high school.

Spotting Elena Gilbert and Bonnie Bennett by their lockers, she picked her bag off the ground and squeezed her way past lost freshmen with their eyes glued to their schedules.

"—no, that's over."

"What's over?" Kennedy asked, smiling at her two best friends.

"Ah, nothing important. Thinking about finding man, coining a new phrase. We've got a busy year ahead of us," Bonnie replied, but her gaze trailed behind Elena. The two brunettes turned to see Matt Donovan clad in his red and black letterman staring at Elena.

Kennedy watched as Elena waved at him and the blond ignored her, grabbing books out of his locker and walking off.

Elena sighed and leaned against the locker while Kennedy placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "He hates me."

Bonnie shook her head. "That's not hate. That's 'you dumped me, but I'm too cool to show it, but secretly, I'm listening to Air Supply's greatest hits.'"

Kennedy held back a giggle. "He just needs some time. I mean, it's not like you guys bumped into each other muchover the summer. He'll get over it, and you'll be best friends again. Trust me."

"Speaking of time," Bonnie began. She grabbed the red junior history book from her locker. "How'd we beat Miss Track Queen to school when you left before us?"

"Funny story, I woke up late, and my dad just assumed I had already left for school. So, I ended up having to run here just like he told you. Now I'm all gross."

Elena folded her arms across her chest, ignoring the yells behind them of friends congregating for the first time since May. "Don't you keep spare clothes in your gym locker?"

Kennedy nodded. "Yeah, I'm actually headed that way to speak to Coach Sharpe about track tryouts. As captain, I'm going to have to oversee them, and I can't have them interfering with my work schedule at the library. I figured I'd change while I was down there."

"Elena! Oh my god!"

It wasn't seconds later that Kennedy had been gently shoved to the side, almost knocking into Bonnie, as a blonde in a blue blouse and black heels enveloped Elena into a tight hug. Elena patted the girl's shoulder reassuringly.

"How are you? Oh, it's so good to see you." She released the olive-skinned girl from her embrace before turning to Bonnie and Kennedy, blue eyes laced with concern and wringing her pale hands. "How is she? Is she good?"

"Caroline, I'm right here." Elena gave a weak but believable smile, nodding her head for good measure. "And I'm fine. Thank you."

"Really?" Caroline asked, and Kennedy felt sorry for Elena. Although it was a brand new school year for everyone, no one could forget how last year had ended. In a small town, the car crash that had wrecked the Gilbert household had affected everyone, even if just in minor implications. Elena had miraculously survived the car's plunge over Wickery Bridge, but her parents had not, leaving Elena and her younger brother to be taken in by their Aunt Jenna, who was only eleven years Kennedy's senior. Now, everyone was sensitive to Elena's feelings, perhaps too sensitive, and no matter how much it seemed Elena wanted to move past the accident and start afresh, everyone else couldn't let the girl forget. Pity parties weren't Elena's thing, that much Kennedy knew.

"Yes, much better."

Caroline enveloped Elena into another hug. "Oh, you poor thing."

Kennedy threw Elena a knowing look and a small smile before tugging the blonde off of her. "Okay, okay, give the poor thing a break, Care. She's had enough touchy-feely for the morning."

Caroline nodded, clapping her hands together. "Okay, see you guys later?"

The three nodded, and Bonnie mumbled out a quick bye to their friend as the blonde strutted down the hall.

Kennedy let out a laugh, and Elena just shook her head. "No comment."

Twisting the bag on her shoulder, Kennedy pointed towards the gym and coaches' office. "Well, I better get going if I want to change out of these clothes. See you first period?"

"Remind me again how you ended up being Tanner's student aid for the junior history class?" Bonnie asked, picking up her own bag. Kennedy was already turning in the other direction.

"Because I'm the only one to ever laugh at his history jokes and make a hundred on his finale, duh!" she threw over her shoulder. Kennedy could hear Elena's giggle as she walked down the hall to change.

"How about next Tuesday afterschool? Will that work for you?"

Finally changed into some fresh clothes and sprayed down with perfume, Kennedy nodded her head at Coach Sharpe's suggestion. Her schedule wasn't hectic, just full. Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays afterschool, the brunette worked at the Mystic Falls Public Library—shelving books, tutoring younger students, and updating the online catalogue. Plus after work on Wednesdays, Kennedy attended church with her mom, helping in the kitchen and with the youth bible study class. Every other Saturday, she volunteered at the hospital and shadowed her father in the pediatrics department. Sundays, there was church again and then her family dinner in the late afternoon. Tuesdays and Fridays were her only free days, mainly because last year they had been dominated by track practices and meets.

"That works for me." She smiled at the man. He sat, arms folded over his linoleum desk, where papers and handheld timers lay scattered. A red baseball cap embroidered with the high school's initials covered his bald head. His eyes were kind but empty, vague, like they couldn't capture the emotions the rest of his face expressed. Kennedy watched as a smile tugged at his lips, and she wondered what thought had crossed his face that she had missed.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked. It was a rather blunt question, and if the man hadn't been Kennedy's track coach since the sixth grade, she probably would have never asked him.

His smile widened, and he tilted his head. "Just that we're going to have an amazing team captain this year."

Kennedy let out a small laugh before ducking her head in embarrassment. "Well, thanks, Coach." A bell rang out throughout the school, and Kennedy glanced at the clock. Five minutes before class started. "I've got to get to class, but I'll stop by later this week to confirm the tryout list, okay?"

Coach Sharpe nodded. "Yeah. See you then."

"Once our home state of Virginia joined the Confederacy in 1861, it created a tremendous amount of tension within the state—" Mr. Tanner droned on, pacing in the front of the small history classroom. His hands were kept clasped at his waist, and he stood tall, eyes roaming the room in hopes to catch students off task.

In the back of the classroom, Kennedy tapped, tapped, tapped a red pen against the wooden desk. A stack of papers sat in front of her. Tanner had handed them to her when she arrived to class with two minutes to spare before the tardy bell went off. This was the junior history class, or as it was better known as, the period Kennedy and Mr. Tanner had designated as her teaching assistant period, meaning she was in the room to grade papers and help write up lessons. Today being the first day of school, all she had to do was staple and organize the practice U.S. History exams the juniors would take tomorrow, but she didn't feel bothered to organize them just yet, instead opting to doodle on the back cover of her notebook. So far, a small clearing surrounded by tall trees had appeared, and she was debating whether to draw a crow in the corner as well when something caught her eye.

Glancing up from her drawing, Kennedy caught the new boy—didn't Mr. Tanner's role sheet say his name was Steven or something like that—staring at Elena. Matt and Bonnie must have noticed it too because Kennedy could see Matt glaring before reading a text Bonnie was sending over her shoulder. Rolling her eyes, she smiled at how oblivious Mr. Tanner was to Elena pulling out her phone, confirming Kennedy's thoughts that her two friends were texting each other during class.

Kennedy pulled out her own phone, typing out a quick message: What did you text Elena? And clicking send before returning to stapling papers.

A short buzz vibrated the desk, causing the red pen to roll onto the floor. She ignored the pen and slid the unlock button on her phone.

That the H-O-T new boy was staring at her. Didn't you see? came Bonnie's reply.

Oh, trust me, Kennedy typed out, I saw.

She turned back to the class in front of her, eyes narrowing in how the new guy—maybe it was Ian?—continued to stare at Elena as the girl kept her gaze locked to the front of the room, smiling wide. Kennedy shook her head, shuffling the papers in her hands. Was this about to be the start of young love or more drama? Whichever the case, Kennedy was just happy to see her friend truly smiling again.

"Guess who."

Kennedy laughed, rolling her eyes behind the hands clasped over them. She hummed, pretending to mull over the endless possibilities as to who had snuck up on her. After a moment or two of contemplation, she shrugged her shoulders. "No idea…is it the reincarnation of George Washington here to set the country straight again?"

The hands were removed from in front of her eyes, and she blinked, readjusting to the brightness of Mrs. Halpern's calculus classroom at 1 o'clock in the afternoon. She turned in her desk, spotting the tall blond boy with mischievous green eyes staring at her. "George Washington, really?"

"What did you want me to say, Ollie? J.F.K.? I'd be disgracing his good looks by comparing them to yours."

"Hardy-har-har." Oliver took the desk next to her, digging into his backpack and grabbing a notebook, calculator, and pencil. He opened the notebook up to the first page before turning back to face her. "Was that you I spotted all sweaty this morning next to my sister?"

"Depends," she countered. She leaned over the aisle, brown eyes raking over him with judgement. "Was that you I spotted walking the halls this morning with Vicki Donovan on your arm?"

"Maybe." He shrugged, suddenly much more interested in his blank notebook than her, but Kennedy wasn't having it. She grabbed the notebook off his desk, folding it closed again. He tried to grab it back, but she pushed it inside her backpack. "What? We're back together."

"And when did this happen?"

"I don't know. A while ago."

She frowned. "Why wasn't I informed of this, Ollie?" Arms crossed, Kennedy gave him her ultimate 'I-thought-we-were-past-the-whole-not-sharing-information-thing' glare. Five months her senior, Oliver Forbes had been Kennedy's best friend since the sixth grade; however, they had known each other since the beginning of elementary school, back where playground rules dictated who was friends with who. To the kids in their kindergarten class, a girl beating another boy in a race across the field was unheard of, well, until Kennedy ran across the finish line with Oliver several feet behind her. The excited six-year-old she was, Kennedy had jumped up and down, the biggest smile plastered on her face. Oliver had been a sore loser, however, and tugged hard at one of her pigtails. A call to Sheriff Forbes later, and the unspoken 'we're not friends and probably never will be' hung thick in the air between them until sixth grade. Kennedy never talked to Oliver, and Oliver continued to think of her as a smartass and show off who wouldn't shut up. Who knew science fair projects could form a friendship between two people who couldn't stand each other?

Oliver let out a long sigh. "Because it didn't seem important at the time?" He held out his hand expectantly. "Can I have my notebook back please?"

Rolling her eyes, Kennedy huffed before grabbing the object back out of her backpack and handing it over. As more students filled into the classroom, Kennedy leaned over her desk, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "So, how did Tyler and Jeremy take the news when they found out?"

Oliver only glared in response.

"So not well then." Before Kennedy could get another word in; however, Mrs. Halpern walked into the room, placing down the calculus textbook onto the front desk, and began the lesson.

It was two o'clock in the afternoon when Kennedy finished all of her classes for the day; like most of the other seniors, she had gotten her schedule moved around for an early dismissal so she could make it to the library in time for work. The elementary and middle schools released their students at 2:40 P.M., and the library's tutoring sessions began at three. Walking down Main Street, Kennedy grinned, allowing her arms to swing back and forth at her side. Her tan shorts and navy blue top kept her cool, and the aviator sunglasses concealed her eyes from the bright sun. With a clear sky on a day like this, the sun found entertainment in reflecting off every surface—car mirrors, shop windows, even Mrs. Lockwood's emerald necklace as she passed Kennedy on the sidewalk. Seeing the five rather large bags Mrs. Lockwood carried, the brief thought of what the mayor's wife was doing out shopping in the middle of the day crossed the brunette's mind, but Kennedy shook the thought out of the way.

"365 more days," she muttered under her breath. "365 more days, and I'll be out of this town and away from all the drama and gossip that goes with it."

And had those all bags been from the liquor store?! Kennedy turned on her heels, skidding against the concrete pavement to try and catch another glance at the logo on the bags, but Mrs. Lockwood had already gone into another store. With a sigh, Kennedy frowned in disappointment of herself. Living in a small town could drive you insane if you let the urge to know everything about everyone and their activities consume you.

"365 more days."

Kennedy made to turn again, but this time, her tennis shoe caught onto a small pebble, and before the brunette could process it, she felt herself fall forwards. Or she would have, if her shoulders hadn't been caught between two hands.

"Whoa, there," a male voice rang in her ears. The hands steadied her, and Kennedy looked up to see a man in what she assumed to be his early twenties staring at her. Raven black hair, leather jacket, black V-neck, the typical attire of a rebel with a James Dean philosophy on life, he had to be at least six foot, the way his tall frame hovered over Kennedy's petite body. A shiver ran down her spine at the sight of him, and she watched in confusion as his bright, electric blue eyes scanned her face for something.

Kennedy bit her lip. They were too close, and it didn't appear his hands were releasing her shoulders out of their own free will anytime soon. So she took it upon herself and forced her feet to move backwards, allowing her body to move away from his hands and put a decent distant between the two of them. She tilted her head as she noticed his eyes were still scanning her. She noticed a brief flicker of recognition and surprise on his face, but she didn't understand why.

"Eliza?" he mumbled. His hand reached out to grasp her shoulder again, but she shook him off, folding her arms across her chest.

Okay, so maybe he wasn't a creep. Just confused. "I'm—I'm sorry, I think you have me confused for someone else." She paused, eyes locking with his. Had this happened before? Why…the leather jacket, the sounds of people chatting away in the background, the clear blue sky…why was she feeling the strangest sense of déjà vu right now?

He blinked, looking hurt but also perhaps hopeful. He retracted his arm, pushing both his hands into his pockets. "Oh. My…my mistake. You just look like an old friend of mine."

Is that how he always greeted old friends? With a look full of surprise, remorse, and longing? If so, she wasn't sure if she ever wanted to become one of this man's old friends. "I'm Kennedy," she corrected.

"Yeah."

"Yeah," she repeated lamely, looking for an escape route. This conversation was headed down hill, and she was beginning to run late for work, despite the public library being only five feet away.

Luckily for her, the blue-eyed stranger took care of it. "M'sorry for bothering you. Have a nice day." He took a step to the right and began walking down the street, but not before turning around and leaving her with one last word of advice. "You should be careful where you walk. You don't want to bump into the wrong person next time you trip on a rock."

She let out a short laugh. "I'll keep that in mind. Thanks."

He nodded, walking away. "Anytime, Kennedy. Anytime."

When he was out of sight, Kennedy released the tense breath she hadn't realized she had been holding. Walking the few steps left to reach the library doors, Kennedy shook her head, moving the interaction between her and Mystery Blue Eyes to the back of her mind.

Time to get to work.

"His name is Stefan Salvatore. He lives with his uncle at the old Salvatore boarding house. He hasn't lived here since he was a kid. Military family, so they moved around a lot. He's a Gemini, and his favorite color is blue," Caroline explained. She waved her hands around as she talked, and Kennedy fought the urge to grab them and tape them to her blue dress so they wouldn't move.

Bonnie stared at Caroline in shock but mostly disbelief. "You got all of that in one day?"

Caroline waved her hand again, dismissing the notion. "Oh, please. I got all that between third and fourth period. We're planning a June wedding."

"Yeah, in your dreams. I'll make sure to tell Ollie his sister's getting hitched." Kennedy giggled as the blonde huffed in annoyance, turned, and walked over to another student from school.

The trio just arrived at the Mystic Grill, the town's local bar and grill. Most of Mystic Falls' teenagers could be seen spending their afternoons and early evenings there, whether to study or to just hang with friends. A loud hum of activity always filled the air; the restaurants' patrons chatting amongst themselves. Clinks from shot glasses could be heard towards the back, where the bar sat next to the pool table. The lightning in the building was dim, warm, yellow lights shining down from the ceiling. A few standing lamps could be found scattered around the room as well, casting shadows on the faux stone walls. Spotting Oliver cleaning up a now-empty table in the middle of the room, Kennedy pointed it out to Bonnie.

"Shall we?" she asked.

"We shall."

An order of French fries and two Cokes later, Kennedy and Bonnie sat across from Matt. Although Kennedy wasn't thrilled to be involved in the conversation, she knew that she and Bonnie, as both Elena and Matt's friends since they were children, had to set the boy straight.

"How's Elena doing?" he asked. His elbows leaned against the rustic-looking wood, and he had his face propped up by his hands. His face was solemn, and his blue eyes were laced with concern. Kennedy understood he was genuinely interested in Elena's well-being; he was just being too much of a chicken to check up on the girl himself.

"How do you think she's doing, Matt?" Kennedy asked, and it came out a bit harsher than she intended.

Bonnie shrugged her shoulders. "Her mom and dad died. She's putting on a good face, but it's only been four months."

And here it comes. "Has she said anything about me?"

Shaking her head, Bonnie rolled her eyes and leaned back in her seat. "Oh, no. So not getting in the middle. You pick up the phone and call her."

Kennedy nodded, biting into a French fry. "Yeah, and while you're calling her, make sure to apologize for not speaking to her all summer long. It made you look petty."

"I feel weird calling her. Hell, I feel weird even seeing her. She broke up with me."

"Give it more time, Matt," Bonnie explained. But her face fell into a soft frown, and Kennedy remembered why she never played poker with Bonnie on her team. Worst poker face ever.

Their three gazes followed Elena as she walked into the Grill, followed by the new boy—whose name according to Caroline was apparently Stefan, not Steven nor Ian—close behind. Kennedy watched as the two glanced around the restaurant before smiling at each other. And there went her chances of the year being drama free.

"More time, huh?" he muttered, eyes downcast. Kennedy felt sorry for him and reached out to place a comforting hand on his shoulder, but Matt had already stood up from his seat, walked over to Elena and Stefan, and introduced himself.

Kennedy smiled softly. "Way to be the bigger man, Matt."

A few minutes later, Elena and Stefan had joined the table, along with Caroline, who know doubt had just joined to further learn more about the town's new eye candy. Not that she couldn't learn most of it from the gossip she spent most of her school days filling her ears with. Matt had left the table to play with Tyler Lockwood, another football player.

"So you were born in Mystic Falls?" Caroline asked.

Kennedy sipped on her Coke, swirling the straw in her drink between breaks. She was interested in Stefan's responses, but she could tell the others seemed more eager. While she sat relaxed in her seat, legs crossed and head leaning against the back, the others leaned against propped-up elbows, eyes never straying from Stefan's face. Kennedy couldn't be bothered to put so much effort into the conversation. Not because she didn't care or didn't want to make any new friends, but because she felt like she didn't have to try too hard. This Stefan was friendly, even if a bit reserved. Perhaps he was shy, but to Kennedy, he gave off the vibe of someone she could chat to about most anything, the same vibe she received from people who were her friends. She felt like she already knew him, even if she knew virtually nothing about him.

"Mm-hmm. And moved when I was still young."

"Parents?" Bonnie asked.

"My parents passed away." Kennedy sat up, intrigued, not at the information but the way he said it. His voice didn't soften nor crack; his face kept the same neutral expression he had worn all evening. He barely even blinked during the sentence. He said it so matter-of-fact that Kennedy felt it was just that and nothing more: a fact.

He turned towards Elena. Oh, Kennedy thought, so he heard about the accident. Are people really still gossiping about that at school?

Elena frowned, and before she could speak, Kennedy dragged the conversation away from her, wanting to avoid a pity party to start for Elena and Stefan. "I'm sorry. Any siblings?"

Stefan's eyes glanced towards her. To Kennedy, it appeared to be the first time he had truly noticed her existence at the table. He blinked, his green eyes searching her face for something. It was the same look of recognition she had seen early that day on Mystery Blue Eyes's face. He shook his head. "None that I talk to. I live with my uncle."

"So, Stefan…" Caroline was quick to redirect the conversation to herself. "If you're new, then you don't know about the party tomorrow."

"Party?" Kennedy asked. "They're still doing that after what happened last year?" She felt an elbow dig into her stomach. "Hey, ow." She glared at Caroline.

"It's a back to school thing at the Falls," Bonnie explained.

Stefan nodded, turning to look at Elena. "Are you going?"

"Of course she is," Bonnie and Kennedy answered together. Having both seen the glances Stefan and Elena kept sending each other's way, the duo had picked up on the mutual interest and decided to run with it.

A phone rang, and Kennedy glanced down at her cell. Reading the caller I.D as Mom, she got up from the table, grabbing her purse with her. She waved and mumbled out a quick goodbye before answering the call.

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Dear, do you mind picking up some groceries on your way home?" Marian's voice came through the phone's speakers.

"Sure. What do you need?"

"Eat your vegetables, Kenn," Bryan instructed, fork raised and pointed at his daughter.

Kennedy glanced sheepishly up from her plate, feeling much like a five year old being commanded by their parent, before shrugging her shoulders. "Sorry, Dad. M'not really hungry."

Letting out a small laugh, Marian shook her head. "That's why we don't eat a big snack at the Grill before dinner."

"It was the first day back at school," Kennedy defended, twirling the green beans on her plate with her fork. "Everyone wanted to meet up afterwards to catch up."

Placing his napkin on the table and pushing his clean plate forward, Bryan sat up in his chair. "Everyone being the same five people you hung out with all summer, yeah?"

Kennedy laughed, nodding. "Yeah, except Oliver was working so we weren't really hanging out." She bit into a green bean. "Oh, and the new junior at school joined us at school—Stefan. I guess he just moved back in with his uncle. I think he has a thing for Elena. He was making the googly eyes at her in history class this morning."

Bryan's eyes raised at the information. "Stefan? He wouldn't happen to be a Salvatore, would he?"

"I think so." Kennedy shrugged her shoulders, not understanding the significance. "Why? Were you one of his doctors as a child or something? He said he used to live here, but his parents were in the military, so they moved around a lot."

Bryan picked up his empty plate, as well as his wife's and walked over to the sink. "Uh, yeah…Him and his brother both."

Marian turned towards her daughter. "You said he was interested in Elena? Isn't it a bit too soon for her to be getting back into a relationship? I mean, her and Matthew just broke up."

"Mom, they broke up months ago. Haven't talked to each other all summer, in fact. Although, I'm not sure Matt's ready to give up on them, but I think Elena's ready to move on with her life. Start fresh. I think she wants to get past all the sadness and negativity and be happy again."

Kennedy picked up her own plate and scraped the remaining green beans into the white trash bin in the dim pantry before handing it to her father. She leaned against the counter. "Besides, there are more important things than worrying about guys in life, and I'm sure Elena agrees. I'm not even positive she's interested in Stefan too, just that they seemed to click at school today."

The next morning went smoothly. Kennedy woke up on time and was dressed and ready by the time Bonnie came honking in her driveway with her Prius. However, Tanner's junior history class was not having the same luck as Kennedy. As she sat in the back, scribbling red marks across the practice exams the juniors had taken towards the end of class the day before, Mr. Tanner was getting frustrated with the students' lack of response to his lesson. Kennedy couldn't blame the students, though. Even she grew bored with his lectures, and she loved history. His monotone voice and bland classroom made his teaching style and environment boring and allowed his students to grow tired easily. It didn't help that this was an 8 o'clock class, and most of the students still wanted to be curled up in their cozy beds.

"The Battle of Willow Creek took place right at the end of the war in our very own Mystic Falls," Mr. Tanner continued, eyes focusing in on the back of the classroom. "How many casualties resulted in this battle? Ms. Bennett?"

346, Kennedy thought as she watched Bonnie's face fall and a small grimace take hold. "Um…a lot?" she answered, dropping her pen onto the desk. "I'm not sure. Like a whole lot."

Mr. Tanner shook his head, clearly not amused with Bonnie's witty response. "Cute becomes dumb in an instant, Ms. Bennett." And there was the reason everyone called Tanner an asshole behind his back. "Mr. Donovan? Would you like to take this opportunity to overcome your embedded jock stereotype?"

A quick shake of his head should have been enough of an answer in itself, but Matt decided to grace his teacher with a verbal response as well. "It's okay, Mr. Tanner, I'm cool with it."

Kennedy held back a giggle at Mr. Tanner's exasperated sigh. Sometimes she caught herself wondering why he even bothered teaching if he hated his students and didn't want to deal with smart-mouths, but then she remembered the high school's policy that all coaching staff had to also be teachers.

"Hmm, Elena? Surely you can enlighten us about one of the town's most significantly historical events?" Tanner had placed himself right in front of the brunette's desk, and even from the back of the classroom, Kennedy could tell how intimidating he appeared looming over Elena.

"I'm sorry," she muttered. "I—I don't know." Her eyes were downcast, and Kennedy felt sorry for her friend.

"I was willing to be lenient last year for obvious reasons, Elena. But the personal excuses ended with summer break." Kennedy's eyes hardened, and the red pen slipped out of her grip and onto the tile floor. Unwilling to participate in a pity party was one thing, but wrongly informing Elena that her parents' deaths were not a legitimate excuse for knowing an answer on the second day of school was another. Tanner was such an asshole.

Kennedy began to raise her hand to inform Tanner the answer so he would back off the other students, but before her hand even reached mid-air, Stefan Salvatore's voice rang through the class.

"There were 346 casualties. Unless you're counting local civilians."

Mr. Tanner looked taken aback, and the fluorescent lighting seemed to cast a shadow on his face. He almost looked disappointed that he wasn't able to continue humiliating the rest of the class until he would then make Kennedy answer. "That's correct, Mister…?"

"Salvatore," Stefan answered.

Mr. Tanner nodded, leaning against his desk. "Salvatore. Any relation to the original settlers here at Mystic Falls?"

"Distant."

"Well, very good. Except—" Of course, there had to be something wrong with Stefan's answer. Tanner always had to find something wrong with everyone's answer. "Of course, there were no civilian casualties in this battle." Mr. Tanner turned back to the chalkboard, clearly having assumed the conversation was over.

Kennedy frowned at that. She distinctly remembered reading something in the library about there having been a fire at a church or something during that battle, but she couldn't remember the number of casualties or if anyone had actually been in the church that day.

"Actually," Stefan raised his voice, "there were 27, sir. Confederate soldiers, they fired on the church, believing it to be housing weapons. They were wrong. It was a night of great lost. The founder's archives are, uh, stored in civil hall if you'd like to brush up on your facts, Mr. Tanner."

Kennedy's mouth dropped, and she heard the other students begin to murmur amongst themselves. No one had stood up to Tanner that way, at least not in their history class. The only one who any of them had heard of doing it before was Kennedy, and she had only did it on rare occasions with physical proof in hand to settle her case.

"Hmm…" was the only response the teacher gave.

Back at home, Kennedy had changed into a blue summer dress and laced up a white Keds. Tonight was the Back to School at the Falls party, and although she didn't seem like it, she wasn't one to miss a party. Partying was one of the only opportunities for Kennedy to let loose and have fun. Between work, school, track, church, and family commitments, she didn't have much room for relaxing and enjoying herself. Sure she'd read for pleasure or watch Gossip Girl before bed and hang out with her friends on the weekend, but sometimes a girl had to get out for more than an hour or two at a time and have some fun. Especially if that fun involved booze.

Grabbing her purse off its hook on the white door of her bedroom, Kennedy walked down the stairs. Reaching the living room, she plopped onto the brown leather couch next to her father. His eyes never strayed from his book. Sighing dramatically, she glanced around the room, mentally noting the clutter gathering on the coffee table—a few bills that needed to be paid, manila folders that were no doubt patient files, a couple of photos from their family trip to Washington D.C. last summer that her mother was just now getting around to scrapbooking. Kennedy picked one up, glancing at her sixteen-year-old-self standing in front of the Lincoln Memorial.

She let out another sigh, glancing back at her father.

"What?" He looked up. His glasses had fallen down and now rested on the middle of his nose.

"The Back to the Falls Party is tonight," she replied, a bright smile stretching across her face.

"And…?"

"And I was wondering if I could go. You let me last year, and I just wanted to make sure I was still allowed before I leave with Bonnie and Elena."

He placed the book down on top of the patient folders, and Kennedy recognized it as one of the ancient medical journals he collected in his home office. There seemed to be thousands of them lining his bookshelves. He gave her a look and opened his mouth to speak, but Kennedy interrupted before any words could spill out.

"Oh, come one. Are you really about to tell me no? You've let me the last three years. Why wouldn't it be okay now? It's my last chance to go to one!"

"Now, I haven't even said anything yet," he argued.

"I know that look," Kennedy explained, folding her arms.

"I'm just not sure it's a good idea. It's a school night, and with it being in the woods, I'm nervous. There was just an animal attack not a few towns over."

"Dad, I'll be fine. I promise! No drinking, no anything even remotely dangerous. I'll just be hanging out with Bonnie, Elena, Oliver, and Caroline all night, and I'll be home before you know it." She gave him a pleading smile, brown eyes begging for permission.

He shook his head. "Fine, fine. But you have to be home by 11. No later than 11, got it?"

"Got it," she muttered before seeing the look in his eyes. "Got it, sir," she said a bit more enthusiastically. She smiled, hugging him before rushing out the door. "Thanks, Dad!"

For a summer night in the south, the air was cool and dry against Kennedy's skin. She was leaning against one of the park's banisters, standing next to Elena and Bonnie. The music was loud, and the only sources of lighting were the bonfire warming the large group of teenagers surrounding it a few yards away and the string lights the sophomore class had set up an hour before the party began. Sipping on the punch, Kennedy could tell by the awful taste it had been spiked with more vodka than it should be. Next time, she'd have to suggest the freshmen weren't in charge of the drinks. They had been so eager to get drunk that one of them had poured a bit too much alcohol into the bowl. Kennedy's eyes scanned the area, and a smile spread across her face. Laughter and chatter filled the air as teenagers stood too close to each other and enjoyed the last freedom they would have until Christmas Break.

"Just admit it, Elena," Bonnie nagged, a smug grin across her face.

Elena sighed and pushed on her jacket sleeve. "Oh, okay, so he's a little pretty."

"He has that romance novel stare," Bonnie argued and nudged Kennedy to help her out.

"Oh, she's right." Kennedy nodded, tossing the empty cup into a trash can. "Those green orbs could pierce right through your soul. Plus, have you looked at his hair? He's definitely been catalogue ordered off a sports model magazine."

Elena laughed at her friends, running her fingers through her long hair.

"So where is he?" Bonnie asked, and the trio glanced around the party. None of them spotted him amongst the familiar faces of their classmates.

"I don't know." Elena's eyes brightened with an idea. "You tell me, you're the psychic one."

"Psychic?" Kennedy asked, eyebrows raised.

"Grams," she explained, and with that one word, Kennedy understood. Bonnie's grandmother was a very interesting lady and quite the character as well. According to Grandma Bennett, Bonnie and the rest of her family through her mother's side of the family were descended from witches, going back all the way to Salem. Growing up, the girls used to joke with Bonnie and pretended to cast spells on the kids who were mean to them in elementary school. Well, until Kennedy's mom found out and informed them it was not nice to make fun of Bonnie's grandmother nor was it appropriate to poke boys with a stick and tell them they'd turn into toads the next morning if they weren't nicer.

"Okay, so give me a sec. Grams says I have to concentrate." Bonnie closed her eyes, but Elena held up a finger to stop her.

"Wait, you need a crystal ball." Turning around, Elena glanced around until she found an empty beer bottle on the ground. "Tada."

"Now tell us the future, Bonnie the Mystic," Kennedy laughed as Elena handed the girl the glass bottle.

Bonnie reached for the glass, and her eyes widened as soon as her hand connected with Elena's. She frowned, and a brief second went by before she tore her hand away from the glass.

"What?" the other two girls spoke in unison.

"That was weird. When I touched you, I saw a crow."

"Oh, the omen of death..." Kennedy sang jokingly, taking the bottle and tossing into the trash.

"What?" Elena asked, head tilted and body leaned forward. Wait, she wasn't buying into this was she?

"A crow," Bonnie repeated. "There was fog, a man…" Seeing the look on Elena's face, Bonnie shook her head. "I'm drunk. It's the drinking. There's nothing psychic about it. Yeah?"

"Yeah," Kennedy agreed, looping her arm with Bonnie. "Wanna go get a refill?" With a nod as confirmation, Kennedy pulled the brunette with her. "Well, catch up with you later, okay?"

"Okay?"

It didn't take long for Kennedy and Bonnie to grab another round of drinks—a bottle of beer for Kennedy and another glass of punch for Bonnie. Hearing a laugh, the two spotted Oliver a few feet away, red solo cup in hand. As he brought a red solo cup to his lips, Oliver rolled his eyes, shoulder bumping with one of the guys from the football team. Hooking her thumb towards the blond, Kennedy motioned for Bonnie to follow her. By the time they reached him, Oliver had glanced up and noticed their presence.

"Well, if it isn't the Psychic and the Brainiac," he announced, lips curled up into a cheeky smirk and arm crossed over his chest.

"Ha ha. You're such a comedian," Kennedy spoke dryly.

He shrugged. "I know. It's a curse, what can I say."

Meanwhile, Bonnie's elbow connected with Kennedy's ribcage. "Ow," she mumbled, free hand rubbing her side. Why was she always getting elbowed?

"You told him?" Bonnie asked, eyebrows raised. It wasn't that Bonnie cared about Oliver knowing, but she didn't need the whole school knowing that her Grams was convinced she was a witch. It was bad enough most of Mystic Falls thought Grams was crazy every other day. Talk of witchcraft? In a small southern town? That was an easy way to get thrown into a mental hospital.

"When did I have a chance to tell him? I literally heard about this story two minutes ago."

"Elena told me," he interrupted the two of them. "Sometime earlier today when I passed her in the hall. So your Grams thinks your psychic?"

"Yeah, can we just—not talk about it?" Bonnie's voice softened as she took another sip of her punch. "Besides there's much more important things to be talking about."

"Like what?"

"Like you and Vicki," Kennedy interjected, raising her eyebrows. She watched as Oliver rolled his eyes. The news that he and Vicki Donovan were back together had spread through the school like wildfire, and although Kennedy had heard about the news from the horse's mouth, it didn't mean she hadn't taken the time to listen to what everyone else was saying.

Cheeks puffed out, Oliver sighed. "Yeah, Kenn, What about it?"

"I just—"

"We just care about you, Ollie." Bonnie interjected, and Kennedy nodded in agreement, eyes locked on the blond in front of them as Bonnie shrugged, an air of nonchalance surrounding her. "And we just want what's best for you."

Kennedy knew Oliver didn't like when the two of them ganged up on him about his relationship with the older Donovan, but to be fair, Oliver and Vicki had been the longest on-again, off-again relationship Mystic Falls High School had. The two had been at it since ninth grade, and Kennedy had never been a fan of it. When Oliver was dating Vicki, Tyler was. When neither of them were dating Vicki, the older Donovan could be found hanging out with Elena's kid brother Jeremy, smoking pot and doing whatever other drugs they could get their grubby hands on. Although it was obvious that both Oliver and Vicki loved each other, Kennedy just didn't have faith that he understood what would happen if their relationship truly ended. Tens of break-ups over the course of four years took enough of a toll on Oliver, yet every time, the two of them seemed to get back together. Kennedy just didn't want to see him get hurt when something happened, whether it was because the duo broke up or because Vicki got hurt from her poor life choices.

"Yeah, you guys, I know." Another sigh, his arms folded across his chest. "I swear you guys act like I don't know what I'm doing."

"No, Ollie. It's not that. We just want you happy, that's all." Bonnie's voice grew soft, a touch of sympathy lingered in her eyes.

The male's gaze fell, eyes locking on the beat up, white Chuck Taylor's that he'd managed to wear to a sole. The chatter between the three had grown to an awkward silence, and Oliver leaned back against a wooden post, his left hand used as support, right hand holding his cup of beer as he brought it back to his lips.

"Have you met the new guy? Stefan? Earlier in history, the two were giving each other googly eyes. We think Elena has the hots for him." Kennedy chirped, hoping to steer the conversation away from Oliver's relationship.

Slowly, a grin crept on the blond's face, and Kennedy smiled.

"Of course you guys do. I swear, that's all you chicks ever talk about. Us guys."

"That's not all we do," Kennedy threw at him, despite knowing he was joking. "Right, Bon?"

"Huh?" She drew her glance back to the duo. "Oh, yeah. We talk about other stuff. Like shoes, nail polish, clothes—we always talk about clothes, feminine stuff."

"Alright, alright. I've heard enough." Oliver shook his head, cringing from an imaginary chill.

Kennedy's grin grew, and she high-fived Bonnie.

"You guys are the worst," he groaned, lips holding back a smile.

Rolling her eyes, Kennedy pushed at Oliver's shoulder lightly. "We aren't that bad. And either way, you still love us."

"Eh." he shrugged. He peeled his gaze away from the two of them, and Kennedy cleared her throat.

"Oliver!"

"What?!" Eyes immediately narrowed at him as she crossed her arms over her chest. A large huff and a playful roll of the eyes later, he finally gazed back at them.

"I guess I love you both," he teased.

"You better, or else I'll make your life a living hell with my so-called physic powers." Bonnie smirked.

Oliver threw his hands up in defense, and Kennedy let out a giggle. "Yes ma'am." Oliver laughed, bring the red solo cup back to his lips.

A few more drinks later, the party was still roaring, and everyone was having a good time. Kennedy, Oliver, and Bonnie were dancing by the bonfire with some of Kennedy's friends from track and Oliver's friends from football; however, their fun didn't last long when Elena's call for help rang over the loud music and chatty partiers.

The three glanced at each other before rushing over to the help their friends.

Matt had reached Elena and Jeremy first, spying his sister's bloody and unconscious body on the ground. "Vicki? Vicki, what the hell?!"

"What happened to her?" Oliver demanded, hovering over his bleeding girlfriend.

"Yeah, what happened to her?" Tyler repeated. His eyes glared accusingly at Jeremy, but Kennedy was quick to step in between Tyler and Jeremy. She didn't have time for any of the petty drama revolving around who was in love with Vicki and who should be dating her.

"Somebody! Call an ambulance!" Matt yelled, and Kennedy nodded, pulling out her phone as Tyler instructed everyone to give the poor girl some space. Meanwhile, Oliver had ripped off his t-shirt and was holding it against Vicki's neck while Matt tried to get a response out of her.

"911, what's your emergency?"

"Hello? We're at the Mystic Falls Park, and someone's been seriously hurt. She's lying unconscious on the ground. We need an ambulance immediately."

"We'll have one on the way now, ma'am. We'd like to keep you on the line while it's on the way. Can you tell me how she's been hurt?"

Kennedy placed the phone against her hand. "Does anyone know what exactly happened?"

"It's her neck," Elena spoke up. "Something bit her. She's losing a lot of blood."

"Something bit her, and she's losing a lot of blood. Looks like it might have been an animal attack."

"Okay, can you apply pressure to the wound?"

"Yeah, we've got a t-shirt pressed against it now. Please hurry."

A few moments later, the ambulance wheeled Vicki and Matt to Mystic Falls General Hospital, leaving the teenagers to disperse and rid the evidence of alcohol from the park given the abundance of cops now at the party, gathering statements.

Kennedy had just finished giving her statement to the police, glad to have switched to water after just one glass of punch and one bottle of beer, when she saw Bonnie walking away from Elena with Caroline and Oliver in tow.

"Where are you three headed?"

Oliver sighed, rubbing at his hands. "M'heading to the hospital to keep Matt company while Vicki's in surgery. You two mind making sure Care gets home safe and sound?"

"I'll be fine, Ollie," Caroline insisted, but both Kennedy and Bonnie could hear the slight slur in her words.

"We've got her. Don't worry." Oliver nodded, patting Kennedy on the shoulder with the hand not covered in blood and walking away.

"So Mainline Coffee then?" Bonnie suggested. "Figured we can wait for news there and sober this one up while we're at it."

"Sounds like a plan to me. I could use a coffee before getting back to my folks."

"Let's go then."

Kennedy sighed, rubbing her hands against her face. She was exhausted, and although the coffee was delicious, it wasn't doing much on the whole keeping her awake bit.

"Are you sober yet?" Bonnie asked Caroline, glancing at the clock.

Caroline shook her head. "No."

"Well, keep drinking. I gotta get you home. I gotta get me home. It's—" Bonnie glanced at her wrist before realizing she wasn't wearing a watch. "What time is it?"

"11:45," Kennedy answered before the words sunk in. "It's 11:45. My dad's going to kill me. I was supposed to be home 45 minutes ago."

"Do you need a ride?" Bonnie asked, pushing away her coffee and reaching for her keys.

"No, no. I'll walk home. It's not too far from here. Besides, I'm already late. A few more minutes isn't going to kill me, and you're need here to get her in condition to deal with her mom. I'm sure the sheriff won't appreciate her daughter coming home drunk."

"Okay, if you're sure."

"I'm positive. Stay. I'll see you guys tomorrow at school."

Kennedy stood up, grabbing her phone and purse before walking out of the coffee shop. She had just finished closing the door when her shoulder bumped into someone.

"M'sorry. I wasn't looking where I was—" She glanced up to meet a pair of intense blue eyes and raven hair. "—going."

"And we meet again. Where are you rushing off to, Kennedy?" he asked, leaning against the window to the coffee shop.

"Home. Out past my curfew."

"It's not even midnight," he argued.

She laughed. "My dad's a bit of a stickler for rules, so my curfew's a lot stricter than others around here."

"Need a ride?" He pointed to an older model of pale blue Camaro parked across the street.

Kennedy shook her head. She knew better than to ride in a car with a stranger, even when still a bit tipsy. "Sorry, but I'm already late, and my dad would freak even more if I was driven home by a boy. Especially one he's never met before."

"Ah, I get it. Well, have a safe walk home then."

"Thanks," she gave him a small grin and wave before walking off.

Weird.

<>

"Do you know what time it is?" Bryan barked before Kennedy was even fully through the door of her house. She sighed, having expected this. Walking into the living room, she saw her father sitting in the same seat he'd been in when she left, the same medical journal in his lap.

"Ten minutes past midnight, I know. I was planning on being home on time, but Vicki Donovan got attacked by some animal after she went off in the woods by herself. Elena's kid brother found her, and I called for an ambulance. I had to stick around longer to give my statement to the deputies and such. I'm sorry, I meant to call, but by the time I remembered my phone had died."

Kennedy heard her father sigh and knew she was going to be let off the hook, if only reluctantly.

"I'm really sorry," she pleaded.

"I told you I didn't want you going, and just because I'm letting you off with a warning this time," he pointed his finger at her to emphasize his point. "doesn't mean this will happen again. Curfews are non-negotiable. Especially with the animal attacks in the area becoming more present. I don't want to receive a call from work saying you're in the hospital because a bear or cougar mauled you."

"Yes, sir," she nodded her head, backing up towards the stairs.

"Now go to bed. I'm sure your mother will have a few things to say about this in the morning as well."

With that, Kennedy scampered off to her bed, glad to be able to relax against the cotton sheets and sleep.

[vandorens-archive]

ten questions tag | i was tagged by: @mshelleys, @emdrabbles, @pe-ersona, @evergrcen and @septemberliterature. thank you so much, and i’m so sorry i’m getting to this so late!

everything is under the cut!

@mshelleys

i. if you could change the genre of one of your wips, what would you change it to and how would the story/characters change?

So, trahison already features a ghost and a brief stay at a manor. have i considered turning it into a full fledged horror because of that? perhaps.

ii. do you think of your characters as actors playing a part in a movie or as people in history actually doing things that effect the future?

i think of them as actors playing in one long, crazy, unpredictable play. 

iii. role swap your protagonist and antagonist but keep their personalities the same; how different would your story be?

honestly, not different at all, because when it comes to it, the subject of trahison’s antagonist (s) is pretty complex. 

iv. are any of your characters based on you, family, friends, or someone else you know?

oh, absolutely. my characters range between self inserts, to characters i wish i was more like, to characters that are essentially walking, talking, breathing love letters to the people i care about.  

v. how long have you had your main protagonist(s) of your wip(s)?

I’ve been working with marin, nate and ruby for years, long before they were even called that and were a part of a dystopian crime novel (don’t ask). antoine joined them soon after, followed a while later by beth and isadora, and miles was invented during the plotting stage. 

vi. do you prefer to write chronologically or just make a bunch of scenes and order them after they’re written?

it depends on what i’m working on and how serious i am about it, but if we’re only talking about trahison, then chronologically!

vii. imagine the problem in your wip is sorted out, how would the protagonist recount the story to their children if they asked?

with a far away look in his eyes and an uncharacteristic fondness in his voice, marin would turn to his children, and tell them how extraordinary his friends were during his university years—their zeal, their inquisitiveness, and conveniently leaving out the uncomfortable loyalty they all had towards each other, until time and life’s commands separated them. 

viii. favorite (non-spoilery) line(s) of your current wip(s)?

This small bit of description, albeit a little purple prose-y, is one that i’m very, very proud of.

“ The morning rain had made its grave in the dirt, the bittersweet smell—like exotic black tea—rising into the air. It was the night pluviophiles came to dance. If I think hard, I can still taste the ghost of the raindrops on my tongue and sense Beth’s radiating warmth beside me; its own ghost ” - trahison, chapter three

ix. if your wip was a movie, could you see it be done in the 70s, 80s, 90s, 2000s, or 2010s? why that decade in particular?

so, fun fact, i hadn’t decided when to set trahison (see: the big question mark in my plotting notebook) but i have recently made up my mind and decided to set it in the seventies! if it was a film, then i could see it being made in seventies france! very a la the dreamers.

x. are you able to just make up a story on the spot, or do you need help (plot generators or other outside influences)?

sometimes i’ll take the help of prompts or media, but otherwise i just come up with things on my own!

@emdrabbles

i. what do the names of your main characters mean? did you pick them for the meaning or another reason?

i picked the trahison characters’ names based on two things: how much it related to the character’s backstory or personality, and how pleasing it sounded out loud. here are the meanings of their names:

marin — of the sea

ruby — deep red; precious stone; behold a son

elizabeth — god is my oath

nathaniel — gift from god

antoine — priceless one; beyond praise

isadora — gift of Isis

ii. what book are you currently reading?

I’m currently reading the time machine by h.g wells!

iii. last sentence written?

“ When the end of the world comes — I’ll film it ” — copycat, or the one where i predict the future. 

iv. who are some of your faceclaims?

i usually don’t use faceclaims, but if i had to choose:

marin van doren (trahison) — timor simakov

eloi hill (psychophantia) — maxence danet fauvel

cass parker (penny lane) — monica tomas

v. gimme some worldbuilding facts!!

alright, here’s one: in the world of psychophantia, not only is the magic system and your powers controlled by your morals, but so is your social ranking, your education, and any future you may have—to an extent. 

vi. do you outline? if so, do you have a specific method?

i’m a plotter and only really work well with a solid outline, however, my outlines range from a series of messy, incoherent bullet points to meticulous scene-by-scene planning based around the three act structure. this post is my go to for plotting assistance! 

vii. favourite author?

Like every tumblr user ever, i love donna tartt and maggie stiefvater, but i’m also a huge fan of f.scott fitzgerald, agatha christie and vera caspary!

viii. what is your oldest wip?

trahison! It went through many, many changes — from changes in genre to changes in character names, and there’s still a possibility that it could change even further. 

ix. what is your favourite wip?

every wip i reblog under my #others. tag! You all are so damn talented!

x. where do you get your inspiration from?

everywhere around me! from conversations i have with people, from films and books i consume, from the music on the radio — i like that anything and everything can inspire me to create.

@pe-ersona

i. in one sentence, explain your current wip!

a group of secretive students attempt to become immortal, only to uncover the worst parts of themselves — and each other — as they do. 

ii. was writing your main interest or did you have other interests?

although writing is my main interest (see: my social media bio on every platform ever), i also like to journal, sew, cook and make videos! my interests usually do have to do with the intention of creation. 

iii. what’s your favorite genre to write? to read?

I love writing horror and mysteries. those are my favourite genres, but i also love reading a good contemporary romance!

iv. what is one goal you have for your wip this year? how’s that goal going?

to finish the first draft! so far, not so bad, though i do wish i could write more, but unfortunately, time constraints plus school restrict me from doing so. 

v. how old is your wip? or when did you start writing your wip?

trahison is nearly three years old, but i only started writing the current version of it a year ago. 

vii. what scene made you cry or laugh or both?

these lines made me laugh out loud the first time i wrote them:

“ Up the stairs stumbled Miles, my slovenly genius roommate. He grinned at the giggles and winked at the exasperated stares. 

The gall of him! 

I wanted to be him. 

He managed to find his balance enough to reach our dorm. I immediately stepped back to let him in, and to make sure I was in no association with his uncomposed state. Nate gave a disapproving look at his back as he staggered in. 

I took another step back, raised a pointed eyebrow, and closed the door ” — trahison, chapter three

vii. how many ocs does your wip have? who’s your favourite?

my main wip, trahison, has six main characters. out of the main six, my favourite has to be nathaniel. he is very much the epitome of pure, and sometimes i wonder how he ended up in the middle of such a dark plot. 

vii. you have a brand new idea for a wip, what do you do? 

brainstorm, brainstorm, brainstorm. scribble down whatever the hell pops up in my brain, attempt to link it together by a thin string of yarn, cross my fingers and hope for the best.

ix. you are having your first book-signing, where are you?

i’m in a small bookstore, nestled in a corner near the storage room. almost no one knows about this town, so the line is small but chatty, fans exchanging theories and analysing certain paragraphs. the sight of them makes me feel warm inside. 

x. you have the ability to live in any book, publishing or not, what would it be?

would it be too cliche to say the harry potter universe? other than that, other worlds i would love to be a part of is the world in my novel penny lane, or in midst of a detective story.

@evergrcen / @septemberliterature

i. how did you come up with your wip’s title? what does it mean in relation to the story?

okay, so i discovered the word ‘trahison’ after hearing my french teacher say it, and immediately knew i had to use it for something. ‘trahison’ means betrayal or treason in french, which is one of the main themes in the novel. 

ii. do you title your chapters? if so, what’s your favourite?

I don’t, but I would love to!!

iii. what’s a recent line you really like?

Not a very dramatic or noteworthy line, but here’s one from a poem i’m writing:

“ So the two of you get in the car, proceeding to have an argument with the radio ” — examples of easy solutions, or the one where the internet has no answers. 

iv. are there any writing-related quotes you really like?

“i think a lot of art is trying to make someone love you” — keaton henson

v. do you have an idea for a cover design for your story?

A black background with serif text, that’s it. It’s simple. It’s mysterious. It’s the type of vibe I want to exude. 

vi. what sort of au can you imagine your story being?

...dark academia au anyone?

just kidding. in all seriousness, though, i can see a royalty/political au for trahison, or a medieval fantasy au!

vii. which oc would be the most angry with you as the writer?

eloi. i really need to give that poor boy a break. 

viii. if you had to tell the story from a different pov, which character would you choose?

ruby! she’s the token enigma of trahison, so i think her point of view would be very interesting to see. 

ix. what would be your oc’s taste in music if they lived in our world?

OKAY let’s see:

marin — classic rock, so the who, queen, def leppard.etc

ruby — that one person who you’re pretty sure only listens to classical music, but is actually very attuned to modern day music. she would mostly listen to female singer-songwriters, so take lorde, marina, lana del rey, and other such artists. 

beth — take one look at her playlist, and you’ll see that ninety five percent of it is mitski, while the other five percent is bedroom pop. she would like very tender, calm, cry to in bed music. 

Antoine — same as marin, but add other modern day music artists with eclectic sounds, such as twenty one pilots, arctic monkeys, that sort of thing.

nathaniel — classical music, instrumentals, and film soundtracks make up his playlist. if it has sung words, he won’t listen to it. has little to no understanding of modern day music and is too scared to find out more about it.

isadora — 2000’s diva pop plays in the background of her life. rihanna is her go to whenever she gets to control the party. Don’t be surprised if ‘rich girl’ by gwen stefani starts playing in your head at the sight of her. 

x. what’s one personal goal you want to achieve by the end of the story?

finishing it with pride!