#once again urging people to watch this brilliant show

[greek-dracula]

Your star will shine again one day Through deep blue velvet skies Shine for all the world to see The universe in your eyes

When the storm outside is raging And the dogs they howl your name Lay down, sleep, I'll kiss you Your star will shine again

BEST INTERESTS season 1 episode 2 (2023) dir. Michael Keillor

[alotofpockets]

Practice makes perfect | Leah Williamson x Reader

Where you and Leah practised kissing each other to prepare for kissing boys, but you quickly realise that after that you don't want to kiss anyone but her

Woso masterlist | Words: 2.5k

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As the only two girls on the boys' team growing up, you and Leah clicked right away. Football brought you together, but it was everything else about her that kept you close. Not many people had stuck around in your life the way Leah had. From meeting at six years old to now, a decade later, she was still your best friend.

The football dream was becoming reality for the both of you. The young Lionesses and Arsenal Academy were where you spend most of your time besides school or each other’s houses. The two of you were inseparable and everyone knew it. Where you went Leah went, and visa versa.

“Remember when we were like twelve and we practised kissing?” Leah asks you out of nowhere while you’re sitting in her bed and playing video games. You think back to the moment.

It was a similar situation to this one, you were having a sleepover and had just finished watching a romcom. “How do you know if you’re gonna be a good kisser if you’ve never kissed someone before?” Leah asked with a voice filled with curiosity. 

“I have no clue. Why don’t they show those parts in the movies?” You turned off the tv and pulled the covers further over your body. “Exactly! Like when I kiss a guy for the first time, I want to make sure that like I can kiss him properly, you know?” 

You nodded, understanding her concerns. “What if we practised kissing together? Then we can tell each other if we’re any good.” Leah loved your idea and instantly sat up in bed again. “You are brilliant!” 

She made you sit up as well and once you did she double checked if it was okay. When you nodded in confirmation, she leaned in and pecked your lips. “How did I do?” She instantly asked. “Good I think, what about me?” She smiled proudly, “Nice, you as well.” 

You had practised a couple more times that night, and when you both liked boys, you had practised some more so that the first kisses you would have with them would be perfect.

“Yeah, I remember.” In the meantime Leah had paused the game to fully focus on the conversation she wanted to have. “I was wondering if maybe we could practise something again.”

“What do you want to practise?” You asked to urge her to go on. “Well, I heard from some girls in our class that they’ve been making out with their boyfriends, and they talked about how it goes and everything, but even with that information I don’t feel even remotely ready to just make out with a guy. So, I thought that maybe, if you’re up for it of course, we could practise like we did before?”

Even with the introduction Leah gave, her question still caught you off guard. Leah’s hopeful eyes were hard to ignore while you thought about her question. “Just so we don’t totally embarrass ourselves when the time comes.”

"Yeah, exactly! I don’t want to make things weird between us though, you can totally say no.” She quickly added.  “It’s not weird.” you said shifting to sitting cross-legged, facing Leah, on her bed. “We’re just practising.”

Leah’s face lit up with relief, “Exactly, Just practising.” She turned to sit cross-legged as well. She told you how your classmates had described making out, so you were both on the same page. 

“So, eh,” you cleared your throat, “do we just go for it?” Leah let out a nervous laugh, “I guess so?” You nodded, which Leah took as her sign to start leaning in. She inched closer slowly, until her lips brushed yours. 

At first she just pecked your lips like you had practised before. Your heart started beating faster, but you didn’t understand why. Her soft, warm lips on yours felt familiar, yet somehow different. “Still okay?” She asked to make sure you wanted to do this as well. “Yeah.”

You leaned in this time and let your lips move in sync with hers. Your heart thudded loudly in your chest as Leah reached out her hand and cupped your cheek to pull you a little closer. 

When she pulled back after a few moments, her eyes searched yours. “How was that?” 

Your brain felt like it was running a million miles an hour, and you were scrambling to find words. “Good.” You managed finally. “What about me?” Leah’s lips quirked into that proud smile she had done last time, “Good too.” 

A feeling came over you that you had never felt before, you couldn’t quite place it, but before you could overthink it, Leah was leaning in again. “Practice makes perfect, right?” she said softly, and when you didn’t move away, her lips were on yours again.

That night while Leah slept soundly besides you, your mind wouldn’t stop racing. Trying to make sense of what you were feeling. 

It wasn’t until a few weeks later when you saw Leah kiss a boy in your class, that you realised what was happening. The moment you saw the two of them together, you felt a pang of jealousy. All you knew in that moment was that you weren’t jealous of Leah in that moment, but you were jealous of him. 

You turned on your heels and got away from the situation as quickly as possible. Of course, you headed straight over to the football field. The one place where everything felt right. You must’ve spent hours kicking a ball around until your parent’s called asking when you’d be home. “No Leah tonight?” Your mom had asked when you walked in, seemingly without the blonde by your side. You hadn’t even thought about it, but usually Leah would join you on Fridays. “Eh, no not tonight.” You say quickly. “Do I have time for a quick shower?” Your mom nodded and you rushed to your room. 

You checked your phone and sure enough you had a bunch of messages from Leah. The last one read I hope everything is alright. Couldn’t find you at school so I headed home. Please text me back!

You didn’t text Leah back that night, or the next morning. It wasn’t that you were mad at her, of course you weren’t, you didn’t think you ever could be, but you just didn’t know what to say. Every time you thought about her, you saw that boy’s lips on hers. Every time you saw it play back in your mind, it made your chest ache.

But Leah was Leah. Persistent, stubborn, and your best friend. So, it didn’t take her long to just show up at your house unannounced. 

“You’ve been avoiding me.” She stated from your doorframe, after your dad had let her in. She found you laying on the floor with one of your textbooks in front of you, trying to bury yourself into your homework. “What’s going on?” 

You glanced at her and then quickly focused back on your textbook. “Nothing.” Leah shook her head and stepped inside, closing the door behind her. “Liar.” She sighed, “Did I do something wrong?”

“No!” You said a little too quickly and defensive for Leah to believe it. She crossed her arms and leaned against your door, studying you like she was trying to solve a puzzle. “I just need some space.” You said softly, unable to meet her eye.

“Since when do we do space?” Her voice softened. She walked further into your room and sat down on the edge of your bed. “Come on, talk to me.”

You wanted to. You wanted to tell her everything. You always told Leah everything, but how could you tell her about your feelings? How could you tell her that you were jealous of a guy she kissed? Talk about the way your heart raced when you made eye contact with her? 

“I’m fine, Lee.” You forced a smile, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes and Leah could tell. You saw that she was fighting her inner monologue to press further, her lips parting like she was about to. Before she could say anything, your mother yelled upstairs, “Leah, honey, are you staying for dinner?”

Leah turned to you, “Do you want me to go?” You shake your head, “No, it’s okay. You can stay.” She opened the door and told your mom she would love to before turning back to you. “I’m gonna help her with dinner, you know, so you can have some more space.” This time you noticed her smile not fully reaching her eyes, but before you could say anything, she had already closed the door behind herself.

You stopped ignoring Leah, because you knew she would just find a way in, but that didn’t mean that your interactions were any less awkward, well at least for you. From Leah’s side it seemed like nothing had happened, while you questioned every interaction you had with her.

When she laughed at your jokes, or let her hand linger on your arm or leg, everything made your skin feel like it was on fire.

A few weeks later Leah was picking out her prom outfit with her mom. She had tried on a bunch of dresses, but none of them seemed to be what she was looking for. Today was the last chance of finding something, since prom was literally tonight. So, Amanda was determined to spend the whole morning driving from store to store until they found something.

It was the third store of the morning where Leah’s eyes fell on a baby blue suit, and she knew instantly that that was going to be the one. Her mom encouraged her to put it on, and the smile on her daughter’s face was exactly the reason why she had.

“This is going to be the one!” Leah said as she admired the suit in the mirror. “It’s lovely Leah Cathrine.” Leah smiled big, “Thank you.” After paying for the clothes, the pair headed back to the car.

“Oh mom, I wanted to ask if you could drive y/n and me tonight.” Her mom’s brow furrowed. “Darling of course I would, but I thought y/n wasn’t going?” Leah looks at her mom as if she was crazy. “What makes you think that?”

“Oh well, because that’s what she said yesterday. She said she wasn’t really feeling up to going.” Leah didn’t understand, you hadn’t told her anything. “But she was so excited about it and had her outfit picked out like months ago already. Do you know why she isn’t going?”

Amanda shakes her head, “I don’t know.” Leah was quick to respond. “You didn’t push further?” Amanda chuckles lightly, “No, that’s more your thing, darling.”

Leah sat back in the seat and crossed her arm, going over what she could do. “Can you drive me to her place tonight?” She nodded, “Sure, darling.”

You were watching a movie in your sweats when you heard a knock on the door. When you opened the door, Leah stood in front of you with a small bouquet of flowers. “What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be at prom?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” Leah shoots back instantly. “I’m not going Lee, you should still go though. I’m sure your boyfriend would like you to be there.”

“Boyfriend?” Leah steps inside and closes the door behind her. “What are you talking about? I don’t have a boyfriend.” You shrug your shoulders, “I saw you and Steve kiss, figured you two were together.”

“Oh no definitely not.” Leah said defensively, “He kissed me, and I told him that I wasn’t interested.” You searched her eyes for anything to prove what she was saying wrong, but she seemed sincere. “Oh.”

“So, come to prom with me?” Leah said, holding out the bouquet to you. “Sorry, Lee, I can’t.” She retracted the flowers reluctantly. “Why not?”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, and there is nothing you can fix.” You sighed in frustration, wishing she would just drop it. “Did someone else do something? Please just tell me what’s going on.”

Her question hung in the air. Again you wanted to tell her, but you just couldn’t. “I just can’t, please drop it.” But Leah was Leah and there wasn’t any scenario in which she would drop this.

“I won’t drop it. You’ve been excited about your outfit, the music, the pictures. You’ve been talking about prom non-stop for months and now you’re here in sweats not going. Please just tell me what’s going on. If I did something, let me in and let me fix it.” Her plea sounded desperate.

“Fine, okay, I’ll tell you.” Leah focussed on you instantly, not having expected you to break so soon. “I can’t go to prom with you because ever since we practised making out, all I can think about is wanting to kiss you again.” 

Your eyes were looking anywhere but Leah, not ready to see the way she would react to that confession. “Please look at me.” She slowly reached up her hand to your cheek to turn your head to face her. You expected anger, disgust, or even hurt in her eyes, but instead you were met with softness. 

“You know the reason I told Steve I wasn’t interested?” You shook your head. “It’s because after he kissed me, I felt nothing. Which was a stark opposite to how I felt when we kissed. I swear it was just practise when I asked you, but I think that was exactly what I needed to realise my feelings for you.” Leah confessed. 

You stare at her for a moment, taking in the confession. She liked you the same way that you liked her? The corners of your lips slowly rose as it was all coming together in your head. And then without hesitation, you lean in and kiss her for real this time. She kissed you back instantly, and pulled you closer like she had done last time. It felt even better than your time practising, now knowing your feelings for each other.

When Leah pulled away, she leaned her forehead against yours. “So, prom?” Your smile grew. “Yes, just let me get changed.” 

You rushed to your room and quickly got ready. “Wow, you look amazing!” Leah said as you walked back downstairs. “So do you!” You pecked her lips appreciatively. She took your hand and pulled you out the door where her mom was still waiting in the driveway. “Ready to go to prom, girls?” She knew by your happy faces that whatever was going on between the two of you these past weeks, was resolved. “Yeah, more than ready.” You said and Leah squeezed your hand. “Yeah, let’s go.”

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[respectthepetty]

This is gonna sound very weird but I hope as we go on with the show you won't stop making posts about how much you love Ming's toxic ass cause they make me laugh and I'll need them when in the future I'll feel the urge to somehow strangle Ming through the screen. No pressure but please help a girl in need if you can!

You're writing to the person who is openly praying that Ming gets worse (amen), so I am not one to call others weird.

Something about those who live in a glass house shouldn't throw stones, you know?

Because, once again, I want Ming to be awful to Joe, and only Joe, which I know is kind of weird of me, but I'm just too happy to care.

A few people have commented that Ming will get worse, and I'm giddy from the mere thought of it, so I'll be here all season being unhealthy about Ming's behavior.

Because in the first episode, he was awful, which I LOVED, and I don't think some people really see just how bad he was simply because he is being played by Up, which was a brilliant move by casting, so I love that the show directly told us he is a nightmare, and we could judge all his actions accordingly.

Regardless of Tong's fake personality, Ming just showed up at the set without any warning and ambushed Tong at his job

Ming only wants to eat alone with Tong, and it's of course because he likes Tong, but he even hung up on his sister mid-conversation after she threw him a little welcome back surprise (sidenote: I think he and his sister might be similar personality-wise because her call while Tong was eating with Ming was convenient)

Ming doesn't tell Joe his name or how he got Joe's number

He called Joe drunk and obviously pissed off, then snapped at the staff for being shocked by his behavior

He doesn't tell Joe he thinks of him, but instead reversed Joe's statement to point out that Joe thinks of him

He doesn't compromise

And none of these have to do with sex and Ming wanting to fuck Joe because he looks like Tong because Ming's toxicity isn't just about sex.

This is about how meek Ming is around Tong

Compared to how aggressive he is with Joe.

Pushing Joe down and standing over him, which in the heat of the moment doesn't seem like much.

But Joe took Ming to his house because Ming told him to. Joe doesn't eat instead opting to watch Ming eat. Joe lets Ming spend the night because Ming asked. Joe gets on the bed because Ming tells him to. Joe goes to Ming when called. Joe bottoms because Ming wants him to. Joe does everything Ming wants.

With Tong, Ming can't control anything, but with Joe . . .

Ming's gonna control everything.

Or at least that's what I'm hoping!

So I'll be here all season, cheering every single time Ming does something truly fucked up because he is going about his issues in the worst way by trying to exert dominance on a stand-in of Tong since he is weak for the real Tong until he ends up regretting it once he loses Joe and tries to replace old Joe with new Jo which restarts the vicious cycle that began this entire shit show in the first place! *deep breath*

God, I'm so happy!

[novaksupremacy]

The Veiled Law of Affection- Chapter 1

fic takes place during the events of 5.5 “Serendipity” just my idea of the episode could have properly showed the obvious initial tension between the characters.

angst, smut, pairing Casey Novak x Olivia Benson

(please be kind (but honest) I haven’t written fanfic in almost 15 years)

***(so what I’d really like to do is make this a continuing arc of my head cannons of how I think these characters dated throughout the series as well as how I think Calex would play out and a Cabenson reunion revolving around the episodes where Alex comes back in seasons 10/11 and “Sunk Cost Fallacy” as well as how I think Calex would’ve continued from that point, if that’s something people would be interested in. I also plan on doing quite a few Calex one shots on the side) ***

“The Veiled Law of Affection- Chapter 1”

by PKJ (@novaksupremacy)

word count: 4285

“What do you tell your boyfriend?” Casey scoffed from behind her desk, tossing a few case files onto its surface haphazardly.

Olivia dug her hands deeper into her pockets and dropped her eyes from the red head, she still wasn’t sure how to take her, so she wasn’t about to tell her something she hadn’t even told her squad, the people she trusted with her life.

“I don’t have one actually, once they find out what I do, the ones that don’t pull away immediately get too interested,” she shook her head and smiled incredulously, “and want to know all the sickening details.”

Casey tiled her head, resisting the urge to bite her lip.

“I guess it’s easier on the men’s side.” she shrugged, letting go of a deep stressful sigh. They’d only just met but there was just something about Detective Olivia Benson that set her apart from anyone she had ever met. She watched as the tall, brunette stepped closer, leaning her fingertips against the counselor’s desk, and bent towards the young ADA. “God Casey, quit looking at her hands, stop imagining her touching you with those delicate, strong fingers.” She snapped herself out of it and returned eye contact to Olivia.

“Well,” Olivia started softly, “Fin doesn’t talk about his personal life at work, Elliot doesn’t talk about his work at home, and Munch has just given up.”

She stepped back, pushing herself from the desk off her fingertips, and walked towards the door. Casey went back to shuffling through paperwork on her desk and Olivia lingered in the doorway looking back, finding herself distracted by the charming lawyer’s athletic build, muscles taut against the sleeves of her shirt. She put her hand on the door frame. “Goodnight, Counselor.”

The ginger looked up from her work and smiled, “Goodnight, Detective.”

Liv went back to her desk and straightened up, locking up her drawers and getting ready to go for the evening, “Night El, don’t stay here too late.”

Elliot waved without even bothering to look up from his burger.

Liv took the side entrance as she left the building. It wasn’t overly flooded with light but enough to see if someone was trying to sneak up on her. Casey was only a couple feet ahead of her, walking her bike towards the street. The young ADA turned her head to look back when she heard the door creak closed. She shot a flustered smile in Olivia’s direction. It was clear that behind that smile she was distraught over her recent conversation with Branch. She wasn’t cut out for SVU, her heart was going to be broken constantly and she wasn’t quite sure she could bear it. Her heartbeat picked up slightly, maybe there was a sparkle to cut through the darkness of working sex crimes, and maybe that sparkle was brilliant, brunette detective.

“Goodnight again, Detective.” She turned to face forward again so she couldn’t be seen blushing. She smirked and bit her lip as she began to start walking again.

Over the years Olivia had become an expert on reading people, their body language, their facial expressions, and she could see the pain behind Casey’s eyes, she’d seen it before, whenever there was a problem Alex couldn’t fix. She furrowed her brow; it had been a long day for both, and she couldn’t let Casey go home so disheartened.

She took a deep breath, “Hey! Counselor?”

The tall athletic woman was midway through fastening her helmet when she whipped around. “Be cool Novak, debonair not doofus.”  She smiled again, soft and hopeful.

“Yes Detective? What’s up?” internally she was an absolute wreck, but on the surface, she was charming, confident.

Liv shifted and dug her hands into her pockets again, a nervous habit when she didn’t know what to do with her arms. “Would you want to come get a drink with me? I’m not ready to go home yet and I figured you needed to blow off some steam as much as I do after this case. There's a bar a few blocks from here that’s pretty nice, even has a brand-new pool table.”

Casey, who had been keeping a very slow pace still moving forward towards the street stopped in her tracks, turned the bike around walking back in the brooding brunette’s direction. Without a word she locked her bike back up and removed her helmet and sauntered forward.

“I think that sounds like a great idea,” she rasped trying to keep eye contact until she couldn’t anymore, looking down and biting her lip and then running her tongue across it to soothe the irritation and her nerves. “Lead the way.”

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

                The bar wasn’t overly crowded, so it was easy to hear each other. They had been talking and laughing for about an hour, discussing mutual acquaintances, mishaps Elliot may or not have had on the softball field. They both had been laughing so heartily their cheeks were starting to hurt.

 Casey brought her glass to her lips and took a sip of the whiskey sour. As she brought the glass down onto the bar, she used it as an opportunity to lean closer to Olivia.

                “So, Detective,” she smirked and gave a nod of curiosity, “is this job really the only reason you don’t have a boyfriend?”

                Liv blushed and smiled nervously; her mouth agape but not able to make words come out. “This is really an inconvenient time to be having a stroke.” She laughed credulously, “Ahhh, not exactly.” She copied the redhead’s movement putting her glass down closer so that she could lean in. “I mean- I date men, just not exclusively and not usually. I just don’t really share that with anyone. Even the squad.”

                The two women were now leaning in, to the point where they were inches from each other’s faces. Casey quirked an eyebrow, the smell of Olivia’s perfume was intoxicating. She stood up from her barstool bringing her closer than she already was.

                She grinned, “Good to know. Pool?” She leaned across Liv to pick up her drink off the bar top using her free hand to hold Liv’s shoulder and steady herself.

                Liv caught herself holding her breath, she could feel the warmth of the liquor spreading through her body, but also the heat coming off Casey’s. She’d have to slow down on her cocktail, or her inhibitions might get low enough for her to try something. She couldn’t read the dazzling prosecutor and found that troubling. Was she flirting? Was she just trying to make friends and fit in with the SVU gang?     

                As Casey stepped back, she made sure to look at the compassionate cop directly in her deep brown eyes, hovering for only a second, her lips tingling as they ghosted past Olivia’s. “I’ll get some quarters,” she pursed her lips and tilted her head in the direction of the pool table.

                Casey racked up and grabbed two sticks off the wall, waiting for Liv to make her way over. She was still at the bar seemingly ordering fresh drinks. As Liv turned around and made her way across the room, Casey couldn’t help but bite down on her lower lip and pull it between her teeth, she felt her cheeks getting hot.

                “Jameson?” the older brunette smiled holding up two shot glasses of amber liquid.

                “Don’t mind if I do Detective,” the young redhead’s eyes sparkled with want, “and you…” She handed one of the pool sticks to what she was strongly hoping was her date for the evening, “are right on…cue.” Casey chuckled at her own goofy joke and then shot the Jameson without flinching. “Sorry for the dad joke,” she chuckled again, setting the shot glass down on the windowsill.

                Olivia walked around her to get ready to break, as she did, she stopped behind Casey’s ear, a grin spread across her face, “Whatever you say, Daddy.”

                It took every bit of strength Casey had not to let her knees crumple. Her body was on fire, and her arousal made her thankful not to be a man at that moment. The brunette’s breath on the nape of her neck made her entire body quiver. She managed to get out a small giggle as Liv made her way around her other side and lined up her shot.

                “So, the job,” Olivia started as she eyed the rack of billiard balls at the other end of the table, “it doesn’t get easier, and sometimes it gets worse, but I’d like to think...” She sighed and stood up and tried to readjust, “...for the most part we make a difference.”

                Casey caught herself mindless chewing her bottom lip again listening to the woman in front her, studying how she was soft and quietly intense at the same time. She quirked her brow again and chuckled to herself. “Don’t play pool often, Detective?”

                Liv dropped her shoulders in defeat and hung her head laughing, “That obvious, huh?”

                The ADA moved behind her, “Can I?” she queried, waiting for a nod before leaning herself up against the usually hardened police officer, who seemed to relax around her. She placed her arms over Olivia’s and her head atop her shoulder, “I’ve got you. It’s all in the wrist,” she ran her long slender fingers over Liv’s, “like this.” With that she pulled Liv’s arm back slowly and then pushed it forward, pushing herself tighter against the beautiful woman in front of her, the stick connecting with the cue ball and scattering the billiards on the table into various pockets.

                Liv felt her breath catch in her throat as Casey’s taut body pressed into her back, she inhaled, “bergamot and orange blossoms”, she was completely under her spell at this point. “Wow Counselor, your sway with a pool cue is almost as good as your skill swaying a jury.”

                The redhead chuckled into Liv’s shoulder, her lips close enough to the brunette’s neck that she could feel them even though they hadn’t connected yet, “Oh yeah, Detective? You should hear my closing argument.”

                Both women laughed, bodies leaning forward towards the pool table. Casey placed her hands against the table on both sides of Liv to steady herself. The brunette cop turned to face her, now pinned between the attorney and the table.

                Casey leaned closer, her hazel eyes glistening with lust, her smile melting Liv, tempting her to let her walls down. “Would you like to get out of here?”

                Both women raised an eyebrow, noses grazing as they both nodded, almost kissing but thinking better of the public show, and made their way for the door.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

                The cab ride to Casey’s Upper West Side apartment seemed insufferably long, the two women sitting close enough to touch but refraining as if taunting each other, “touch me I dare you.”  The redhead reached into the inside pocket of her suit jacket and practically tossed the money at the cabbie, she wasn’t sure if it was a twenty or a hundred but either way it was more than enough. It was late, the door attendant was off duty, so Casey, ever the gentleman, opened the door and motioned Olivia inside, “After you, Detective.” At this point the way she said it, her voice raspy, sultry, only turned the officer on more.

                Once they got into the elevator Casey couldn’t wait anymore, she felt like if she didn’t touch Olivia soon, she might just die of anticipation. She pushed herself up against Liv, pinning her against the wall of the elevator, studying her lips for a minute, she knew they still had about ten floors to go. At first, she just brushed her lips against the olive-skinned beauty’s and then she kissed her, hard, and it was like the bomb that had been ticking all night had finally detonated. She bit Liv’s lower lip and then slid her tongue gently across it to soothe the bite and to wantonly ask for permission. Olivia sighed and opened her mouth slightly allowing Casey access which the redhead took full advantage of, massaging Liv’s tongue with her own. Olivia didn’t even bother to fight for dominance, just let go and let Casey explore, with her tongue and with her hands which were now roaming her body. One hand under Liv’s leather jacket kneading her breast the other wandering down her body, sliding her index and middle fingers through Liv’s belt loop pulling the cops hips closer to her own. She counted in her head, “Three, two, one.” On the count of one she let go and grabbed Liv’s hand as the elevator dinged and the doors slid open, she pulled her down the hallway and fumbled with the keys.

                The minute they were behind a closed door again Casey threw her keys and pressed the brunette back up against the wall, biting her bottom lip hard, and pulled towards herself. Liv’s moans swallowed by the enthusiastic kisses the district attorney was placing on her with fervor.

“So, Detective…” Casey smirked beginning to kiss and bite down Olivia’s neck, Liv’s knees buckling against her. The redhead leaned harder against her and held her by the shoulders to steady her. She ran her tongue over the marks she was making as she slid the leather jacket off the other woman’s shoulders and letting it fall to the floor, “I know you’re used to being in control but so am I and, hm, I really, really, would like to tell you exactly,” She bit down hard into Liv’s shoulder and suckled for a moment, “what I want to do.”  

The brunette whimpered in pleasure at the bite, panting quietly in the dimly lit apartment foyer, completely succumbed. She nodded in response to Casey, she didn’t even want to fight it, she was tired of always having to be the one in charge, making decisions. She would gladly let the fine, young woman in front of her take the reins, at least for now.

“I need a verbal response, Detective.” Casey bit down again, this time a little higher up finding the brunette’s sweet spot.

“Yes,” Liv panted out, shaking her head vehemently, “god yes!”

“Good girl.” Casey smirked devilishly, as she unbuttoned and unzipped Liv’s jeans with her left hand, tracing small circles along her waistline enjoying the teasing torment she was inflicting as Liv’s skin jumped and twitched under her touch.

“Case...” Olivia whispered, she was so turned on by the ADA right now that she couldn’t even speak at a normal volume, “tell me what you want.”

“I want,” the redhead breathed in her ear, kissing and suckling on her neck every few words, “to take you into my bedroom, get you naked…” as she continued, she slid her knee in-between the brunette’s thighs and could feel the arousal from her heat against her leg even through her jeans. She let out a surprised sigh of delight as she felt it. Liv started slowly grinding against her as she continued talking, “and then I want to get you underneath me, taunt you,” she pulled off the stunning officer’s shirt and bit into her bare collarbone, as the detective let out a strangled cry of pleasure, “tease you, until you are so incredibly desperate that you beg me to fuck you.” She pulled one of Liv’s breasts to her face, pushing aside the lace of her bra to suck the nipple into her mouth. Between what Casey was saying and the sensation of her hot, wet tongue, pleasurably massaging her nipple, Olivia almost came from the sheer agony of needing Casey inside of her. The counselor continued, “and I will, I will fuck you until your eyes cross, and then when I think you can’t take anymore, I’ll give you permission to cum,” she kissed the brunette passionately before continuing, “preferably in my mouth.”

Olivia whose chest was already heaving, eager and hungry, letting out moan after moan (which Casey was relishing, trying to push aside her own wanton need to have the brunette inside her), panted heavily, “So then take me to bed.” As she said this, she took Casey into a deep, messy kiss, wrapping her legs around the athletic attorney’s waist and draped her arms around her neck.

Casey wasted no time carrying her new lover to the bedroom, only setting her down as they reached the edge of the bed. She stood there for a moment, trying to catch her breath, reveling in Olivia’s beauty, smooth tanned skin, muscular physique. She giggled slightly as she couldn’t believe they went from their awkward first meeting to this. The redhead tossed her blazer off into the corner and pulled her own shirt off. As she began to kiss Liv again, it became a race as they both hurriedly pulled each other’s clothes off until the two were stripped of everything but their panties. Casey grabbed Liv by her waist pulling her tight to her own hips, she wrapped her left arm around the brunette’s shoulder and let her right-hand slide into Liv’s already soaked black lace underwear. She let her index and middle finger slide through the folds, pulling wetness up from the bottom and rolling her fingers around Liv’s swollen clit. Her breath hitched as she slid her fingers back down, she stroked up and down slowly, the brunette trembling beneath her touch.

“All this for me?” Casey tilted her head, “I’ve barely even begun to touch you.” Her voice was sensual but also lighthearted, the ADA knew how not to take herself too seriously in any situation. She pulled her fingers back up and into her mouth where she sucked and licked them clean. She flopped herself down on the bed, laying on her side, propped up on her elbow. She patted the bed with her free hand and then lifted it out to Liv in invitation. As the brunette took her hand, Casey softly pulled her down on the bed next to her. She put up a good front, but the truth is the young ADA wasn’t as experienced as she was making herself out to be and didn’t want to do anything to hurt or scare away the hot, brilliant detective in her bed staring at her with lust in her eyes. She brushed the hair away from Liv’s face and cupped it in her hand, placing soft kisses on her lips, “I want you to tell me if there’s anything you don’t want, I want you safe and comfortable.” She blushed and looked down; her hand was shaking ever so slightly.   

“Counselor,” Olivia smiled softly, looking into deep hazel eyes that she hadn’t been able to get out of her head since they met, “is that nerves? I want you, all of you, whatever that may entail, and I’ll tell you if I’m not okay. Promise.” She giggled and bit her lip softly, “Come on, Daddy. Show me what you got.” She whispered in a jovial attempt to both be sensual and break the tension as she planted a deep soft kiss on Casey.

The minute she said this, it was like she had once again awoken something primal in Casey, who deepened the kiss, pushing Liv to the bed and straddling her. The brunette laughed and gave a small moan, “There we go.” She wanted the redhead six ways to Sunday and would take any way she was willing to give her.

Casey began marking little bites and kisses down Liv’s shoulder and in between her breasts, the detective surely would not be happy when she looked in a mirror tomorrow, as she trailed down the brunettes body she stopped once she got to her panties, nipping at hipbones and slowly pulling them down around Liv’s ankles using nothing more than her teeth, stopping every so often to leave a scattered trail of teeth grazes and small bites, tossing the panties to the floor and then moving her way back up. She began kissing the detective again with every ounce of want in her being, biting and pulling her lower lip, both women moaning into each other’s mouths, unable to help themselves.

“Case…” Liv whimpered against her, “I need…” she moaned again under the redhead’s touch.

“What? What do you need baby?”

“I need you to fuck me.”

Casey wasted no time and easily slid two fingers into the other woman’s heat to which a loud, languid moan was the response. She began pumping, slowly, teasingly, learning the geography. She slid her fingers along a ridge at the top and felt Liv’s body start to tighten around her, this was enough to cause her to start dripping arousal down her own legs as she continued to tease the brunette. She watched Liv’s face every time she stroked that particular spot, how she would whimper, moan Casey’s name, over and over, pleading, “mmm more, please more!”.

  The redhead picked up her pace, pumping faster and harder as the brunette ground down firm against Casey’s hand trying to match pace. She could feel Liv’s walls tightening around her, she knew it wouldn’t be long, and just when she knew Liv was about to come crashing over the edge, she held up for a second slowing down to a snail's pace. She ran the tip of her tongue up the length of Liv’s neck and then softly bit her ear, “tell me what you need,” she husked, her lips up against the brunette's striking jawline, nipping and kissing, “hmm, tell me what you need.”

“I need to cum,” Liv pleaded, whining and struggling to regain the friction lost from Casey pumping inside of her, “I need…to…” and before she could finish asking again Casey already had her face down in between her thighs and began fucking her hard, pumping faster and faster, fingers up against her ridge, now adding her to tongue to the brunette's clit. Long, hard swipes never picking up her tongue, so the pressure was constant. She felt Liv’s walls start to flutter, making her moan against her clit, the vibrations sending the detective into a spiral.

Liv grabbed for the headboard as she started screaming, “Oh god, Casey, ah yes! Fuck!” Her core grinding hard against the redhead's face, who quickly removed her fingers and pushed her tongue deep inside, wrapping her arms around both legs to make sure Liv wasn’t getting away as she tongue-fucked her through her orgasm.

“Mm mm” Casey looked up at Olivia, eyes glazed, full of arousal. She licked her fingers clean and then lapped up the mess she had made of the brunette until she had consumed every last drop. “You did so good for me and you taste so fucking good.” She planted a kiss on Liv’s clit making her shudder and then made her way back up until the two were laying face to face.

“That,” Olivia said trying to catch her breath, “was incredible Counselor.”

Casey chuckled, “Well, you’re very welcome, Detective.” She bit her own lip and ran her tongue over it.

“Case?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I touch you?”

Casey nodded longingly.

“I’m going to need a verbal response, Counselor.”

Casey grabbed Liv’s hand and slid it down into her boy shorts, “How’s that for a yes, Detective?” she moaned quietly, her hips bucking towards her lover’s hand.

Liv slid herself closer to the redhead and began to trace her fingers along her folds. Casey was already drenched, “Why ADA Novak, I do believe someone should do something about this mess you’re making,” She grazed her teeth against Casey’s neck as Casey bit her lip and nodded excitedly.

The brunette tauntingly slid one finger into her lover’s tight pussy, causing the redhead to whimper, “More.”

Never breaking eye contact, Liv slowly slid a second finger in, making sure the pads of her fingers touched the squishy ridge at the top. Casey’s jaw went slack with pleasure as she whimpered again, “More.”

  This spurred Liv on as she swiftly plunged a third finger in. Casey cried out in pleasure as she did this, bucking her hips against Liv, griding down on her hand and wrapping her arms under the brunettes and holding on to her shoulders. Liv wasted no time pumping deep and hard, keeping constant friction on the g-spot.

Casey rolled her hips keeping the furious rhythm, dragging her nails down Liv’s back. Strangled cries and moans escaping from the redhead’s mouth almost constantly until she started babbling, “Oh I’m already…I’m gonna…FUCK LIV…I’m…” Her body went rigid as the orgasm she experienced engulfed her whole body, screaming Liv’s name over and over again as she came down off her high and her body went limp. Her fluids soaked the bed and Liv’s hand. Liv moaned almost ready to cum again as she tasted the gorgeous litigator for the first time, licking her fingers clean.

Sweaty and spent Casey laid flat on her back and pulled Liv close against her chest. Olivia breathed in and out heavily, soothed by the sound of the redhead’s heartbeat. “That was,” she snuggled closer trying to find the words.

Casey kissed the top of her head, “mind blowing?”  

Liv nodded, tracing her fingertips across the redhead's smooth skin, flushed pink from the night's activities.

“Liv?”

“Yeah Case?”

“Please stay? I want to fall asleep with you in my arms”

Liv draped her arm over her lover, “I’d love nothing more.”

They dozed off just like that, tangled in each other, skin to skin, intimate, no alarm, no calls, just sleep.

Part 2

[lucky-clover-gazette]

Arceus Forbid Women Do Anything

Chapter 2/3 | 7,558 words | Rated T

Commandment II: Gatekeep

The self-indulgent Volo Wins AU fic has turned into non-diagetic game mechanics timeloop existential struggle with failure fic. Who's surprised

When the champion watched him during their battles, she often tried to imagine him in a different state of mind. She analyzed what she understood of his plans, was reluctantly impressed by his enduring commitment to his own aspirations. She got the best impression she could of the real Volo, a friend and a stranger and her only companion in this endless cycle of failure. She never spoke to him. The idea of conversation felt wrong, as if disturbing a scripted play or painting over a work of art. And besides, even if she managed to change the narrative through speech, her inevitable failure would render the results meaningless. She would, always, try again. Until she won, she would try again. As she approached the Temple of Sinnoh once again, the champion thought that she might be going insane. It made no sense, that she had not yet used her knowledge and practice to end this cycle. But every time she had the chance, she just… couldn’t. She would lose, retreat to the cave, call Arceus, and receive the same answer each time. Thou hast been defeated in battle. Thou shalt try again.

Read the full chapter on AO3 or under the cut:

BEFORE

The Champion of Hisui knew that something was wrong when she reached the temple’s remains.

Volo had been acting more strangely than usual in the past few weeks, as their search for the plates of Arceus drew closer to its end. Restless, lapsing into bouts of discomforting behavior that she’d struggled to explain. She’d always known there was something ironic about his friendly mercantile persona, and appreciated his genuine nature whenever it showed. Having worked retail herself in the previous world, she could never blame Volo for avoiding his job at the Ginkgo Guild, exploring ruins and attaching himself to her adventures instead. With time she had come to genuinely enjoy his company, smiling despite herself whenever he emerged to congratulate her for quelling yet another frenzied noble. And after her banishment, when he’d been the only person to truly care for her, she hadn’t hesitated to accept his comfort.

She didn’t know what exactly to call their relationship now, in the wake of her victory against Palkia and Dialga. By all intents and purposes, it felt like they were a partnership—officially as seekers of the plates of Arceus, but also as friends. He was the closest companion she had found in this world, and she’d grown to trust him near-implicitly. Volo had put himself at risk on her behalf far too many times for her to doubt his intentions now.

But, still. He was being weird. His lecture about Giratina had been pretty normal (for Volo), but the deranged laughter interrupting it? Definitely harder to explain—even for the champion, who usually delighted in Volo’s bizarre behaviors.

Of course, part of that was due to Volo himself, who was easily one of the most attractive people she had ever met. If someone else did half of the weird shit he did, she was pretty sure she’d find it annoying or even creepy. But with Volo, it was endearing. Not just because he was beautiful, or because he had a pleasant voice, or because he held himself with exceptional confidence. She was endeared because he was brilliant, and passionate about his interests, and clever in his humor, and so very sweet towards his pokémon. And he was hot.

She sometimes wondered if he felt the same way about her. But he was so focused on his studies, on the plates of Arceus, that she assumed that any kind of latent attraction would not be made a priority. Occasionally she felt the urge to just straight-up ask ‘what are we?’, but that seemed far too modern an approach. And besides, did she even want her relationship with Volo to be physical, or even explicitly romantic, outside the realm of fantasy?

She didn’t know if she could stand to lose his friendship. Volo, more than anyone else in Hisui, felt real. He was more than a sycophant, a worshiper, someone who idolized her unquestioningly for her gifts. He’d praised her successes, of course, but she’d never been ignorant to the double meanings in his words, the slight contempt of someone who wished for a life they could not have. A life she did have, thanks to the Almighty Arceus plucking her from her original time and place.

From others, praise felt shallow and meaningless. She’d saved them from misfortune, and they’d thanked her because they could continue living as they always had. But from the lonely and mysterious Volo, praise felt meaningful and true. Through his resentment he saw the many facets of her—she was not a flawless hero—and as a result, hadn’t rejected her when she appeared to have failed. He hadn’t abandoned her after she’d saved the region, either, once she’d served her great purpose. And while he was absolutely using her to find the plates, she knew that she was using him too. And that, somehow, was a greater comfort than any other connection she’d forged in this unfamiliar world.

Of course, things weren’t entirely cynical between them. Volo had shown the champion genuine moments of support, even when it had served him no purpose to do so. He’d comforted her during her banishment, blaming the people of Jubilife for their cruelty rather than telling her what she could have done differently to appease them. He had never once encouraged her to apologize. He’d given her a safe haven with Cogita and dedicated himself to assisting her with the Red Chain. All the while, he’d shown no shame about his continued association with the traitor who supposedly doomed them all.

Arceus, meanwhile, had transported its champion to Hisui with only a smartphone as a tether, offering little support beyond a mission and a vague promise upon its completion. At least when Volo was negging her, he did it to her face. With effort. While being hot about it. When he’d asked the champion for her help with the plates, taking her away from the village so they could travel the world together, it had been a no-brainer to say yes. She didn’t even really know what the plates did—just that Volo cared about finding them, and so she did too.

But, still. Something felt wrong. Something had felt wrong, ever since their last conversation with Cogita. Volo was lying to her, and after everything they’d been through she had no idea why he would. She already knew that he was more misanthropic than he acted and negligent in his merchant duties, which were the things he seemed most invested in concealing. He obviously had secrets—she knew very little of his past, for example—but those missing truths had never threatened the dynamic they’d created together. This truth, whatever it was, just felt wrong. She would not be able to proceed until it was revealed.

The champion took a deep breath, more nervous about this confrontation than any that had come before, and entered the temple ruins.

─────────────────

NOW

The challenger returned to Mount Coronet for what would surely be their final attempt at victory.

They only knew what Arceus had told them: they’d returned countless times throughout their life to battle the Champion of Hisui, and each time they had lost. Lost the battle and their memory, returning to the wilds to train the pokémon they wielded. They knew that they were nearing the end of their life, and soon enough would not be able to ascend Mount Coronet at all—yet the voice of Arceus still urged them forwards, and so they climbed.

They understood now that the Champion of Hisui was a faithless traitor, who they would need to defeat in order to earn an audience with the detested false Lord. In their younger years Arceus had not provided this information, simply requesting that she be dispatched. After several losses, though, Arceus had eventually disclosed the entire truth. Ever since that disclosure, the challenger’s mood approaching Spear Pillar was always the same: overwhelming anger towards the fallen hero who had enabled the old world’s destruction.

The challenger reached the temple again.

“Welcome back,” greeted the Champion of Hisui, motioning to a bench at the edge of Spear Pillar. “Please, take a seat.”

─────────────────

BEFORE

She thought it was rather dramatic, the way he stood at the edge of the ruins. The sky around them was vast and pink, dotted by Hisui’s seemingly eternal clouds as the sun slowly set. Volo did not face the champion and the feeling of wrongness only increased.

“The temple lies in ruins now,” said Volo, still refusing to turn around. His voice was light, distant, a kind of detached calm that she had rarely heard from the passionate researcher. “Columns cracked and broken... like pillars now turned into spears, stabbing into the heavens.”

The champion raised an eyebrow, stopping just before the stairs leading up to the viewing platform. But she said nothing.

Volo turned around then, wearing his winning merchant’s smile. “Well,” he sighed, “I detect a distinct lack of Giratina.”

The champion couldn’t help but smirk at that. It had always amused her, the way he acted like life was a comedy of errors and they had no choice but to play along. The way he’d spoken in the Celestica Ruins had been different, though—he’d been dead-serious about his own suffering and the suffering of others, deranged laughter aside.

And here was that humor again. It should have been a comforting return to form. But this time, the champion could not shake the chilling feeling that Volo was in on the joke.

“Hm?” he asked, resting his chin on his hand. His tone was unmistakably condescending. He hadn’t spoken to her like that in months, not since they’d grown to understand each other as more than merchant and hero. “Is something bothering you?”

The champion nodded stiffly. For all of her trust and confidence in their friendship, she couldn’t help but wonder—

“Ah, I do beg your pardon,” said Volo, having traded his smile for a chillingly neutral expression. “I suppose I must seem to be behaving strangely!”

He didn’t sound like himself. He put a hand on his hip.

“I daresay you deserve to know what I’m really after by now,” he told the champion, and her heart sunk.

She found herself stepping backwards, filled with incomprehensible dread. It didn’t matter what it was, it only mattered that she hadn’t possessed the sense to avoid this situation altogether. And now she had no choice but to accept that she was wrong about the only person in this world who’d ever felt right.

Volo chuckled darkly, his one visible eye noticeably changed. He looked… manic, was the only word for it. She’d seen hints of this before, but had chalked it up to passion. It had even been sweet, in small doses. But this was concerning. She wanted to reach out to him, and she wanted to leave this place before she learned exactly how foolish she had been.

The conflict left her rooted where she stood. The conflict, and the fear.

He seemed to sense that fear, his expression shifting back to an easy smile. He spoke clearly, thoughtfully, just as he had during countless discussions of history and ruins and oh, Arceus, this man might actually be insane.

“Ever since I became convinced that Arceus really does exist,” said Volo, “there has been one question that consumed my thoughts: How can I meet such a being myself?”

The champion struggled to understand the implications of his words. All things considered, that was a perfectly normal Volo thing to say, so why did everything feel so—

"It was in an attempt to answer this question that I originally sought out Giratina and had it tear open that rift in space and time,” Volo told the champion. “After all, Giratina wished to stand against Arceus.”

She blinked.

He…

He’d brought her here.

She was here, because of him.

And when she’d been banished…

“But that didn't do the trick,” Volo continued, still smiling. “So then I had you gather the fragments of the all-encompassing deity, just as the murals of the ruins directed.”

He had her.

He’d had her.

Volo closed his eyes and lifted his head to the heavens, eerily peaceful in his confession. “Eighteen plates said to be the fragments of the all-encompassing deity. You hold in your hands seventeen of them. So, you must be wondering: Where is the last one?“

He opened his eyes and removed something from his apron. A purple plate, shaped exactly like the others. “Why, it’s right here!”

That was not a customer service smile, it was a smirk. She’d seen it last when he’d playfully challenged her to battle, but nothing was playful about this challenge.

The champion stood, slack-jawed, as Volo reached for the shoulder of his Ginkgo Guild uniform. In one smooth motion he removed the jumpsuit and his hat, revealing…

Oh, he was definitely insane.

"Now hand over the plates you gathered!” Volo commanded, dressed in the most bizarre outfit the champion had ever seen in her life. He wore a chiton-shirt with a cold shoulder, a pendant with a teardrop-shaped stone, gladiator sandals, and green capri pants. Had he assembled this look in the dark?

And the hair. He had done something with his hair. His beautiful hair that the champion had always longed to see at its full length, gelled up in a deranged imitation of God itself.

It was too much. All of this was too much.

Volo’s gaze burned into her, his visible pupil having grown noticeably smaller. “I will be the one to bring them all together!"

The champion gripped the strap of her satchel. How dare he make commands, when he was the reason Arceus had brought her here? He should be begging for her forgiveness!

Volo was ranting now, seemingly to himself more than the person he’d just betrayed. "My desire to meet Arceus cannot be contained any longer! I need to know what it is! I must know what it is!"

When the champion was banished for Volo’s actions, he had comforted her. He had cared for her. Why would he have done that? Why would he have done any of this?

He stopped smiling. He spoke to her now, although part of her wished he wouldn’t. "If I can meet Arceus myself, then I may also be able to subjugate its power. And using that, I will attempt to create a new, better world!"

His words at the Celestica Ruins echoed through the champion’s head:

Ever since I was young, whenever I met with something painful or heartbreaking, I couldn't help but wonder why life was so unfair. Why I was cursed to live through such things. Of course, I imagine we all go through something like that.

The champion was pretty sure she was currently going through something like that.

“Of course,” Volo continued, “if I create a brand-new world, then the Hisui region that we currently exist in will be undone and returned to nothing. You, everyone you know, and all the Pokémon living here will vanish in an instant, as if you'd never been."

He’d brought her to this world, and now he wanted to destroy it.

Destroy her.

The champion wanted to cry. She wanted to scream. She wanted to pound at Volo’s chest and demand that he admit that their connection was real, that she wasn’t a fool, that he regretted what he’d done to put her in harm’s way. She wanted him to be cured of this divine madness and come to his senses. She wanted him to be the person she’d grown to love—because of course she’d grown to love him, of all the people in this stupid world, instead of someone normal and unremarkable and disinterested in becoming a god.

Because that was what Volo wanted, right? To become a god? To subjugate God, and take its place?

And then he would destroy everything. This entire reality, gone. The people and pokémon within it, gone. Her, gone.

Did he really care for her so little, that he would erase her along with the rest of them?

And how deranged was she, to be more upset by the loss of his friendship than the loss of everything and everyone else?

Volo crossed his arms over his chest, looking at the champion as if he saw right through her. As if she wasn’t a person at all, but an obstacle in his way. The final barrier between him and Arceus, between his destiny and desires, in which she would have no part to play.

She would have given him the damn plates, if he had just apologized and explained. After all, it had been Arceus—not Volo—to bring her to this godforsaken place.

"If you want to keep this world from disappearing,” challenged Volo, “then face me in battle!”

She would not be giving him the plates. He didn’t deserve them, didn’t deserve to be God any more than God itself deserved to be God. Arceus and Volo—a deity and its unfashionable imitation. Honestly, in that moment, the champion despised them both.

“Not that you have a choice,” Volo taunted, grinning widely because he was insane. “Even if you don't wish to battle me, I'm not above using force to take those plates from you."

He held up a pokéball and stared down at the champion. With the slightest of nods, she removed her samurott from her satchel.

She had Arceus’s blessing and Volo clearly did not. She was going to defeat him, just as she’d defeated every other enemy in her path. Only once she’d sufficiently humiliated him in front of his god would she allow herself to process everything she’d learned.

Volo tossed out his first pokémon with a knowing smirk, his form surprisingly confident and precise. For all of his intellectual strengths, the champion had never known him to be a particularly skilled trainer.

A spiritomb emerged from his pokéball.

Clearly there were many things the champion did not know about Volo.

─────────────────

NOW

“Please,” the champion repeated, motioning to the bench beneath the heavens. “I really think you should sit down.”

The challenger scowled at her, crossing their arms over their chest. “You know why I’m here.”

She rolled her eyes. The outsider had no memory of meeting her before, but her behaviors felt familiar all the same. “Yes,” the champion sighed, “I know that you’re here to fight me.”

“And then Lord Volo.”

She smirked at that. “Well, I suppose there’s a first time for everything.”

Her attitude enraged the challenger. A wicked traitor to the god that had chosen her—unfathomable, really, in her irreverence.

“Seriously,” said the champion, looking the challenger up and down. “Sit down.”

“Why?” the challenger said, suspecting a trap.

“You look exhausted from your climb.”

She was uncomfortably earnest in her explanation. And she was correct.

“How old are you now, anyway?” the champion asked as the challenger sat. To their surprise, she sat down beside them immediately.

“Old enough to finally defeat you,” said the challenger, avoiding her searching gaze.

She chuckled. “Fair enough.” And then, thoughtfully: “It’s been quite some time since we last met. I was beginning to wonder if Arceus had decided against sending a senior citizen in its stead.”

The challenger, naturally, took offense at the insult. “How old are you, then? I assume that your lack of humanity implies a lack of mortality as well.”

She nodded with a face that appeared far too young for the person wearing it. “I do not age conventionally, that is true.”

“Can you die at all?”

“Not by natural means,” the champion said. “Although I suppose I am still flesh and blood, just like you. But you are old and frail, while my youth has been preserved. Your remaining time in this world is incredibly limited, and yet you’ve come here again—do you not have other things to do? Interests, passions? Family? Does your entire life revolve around your mission from God?”

“Does your life not revolve around your Lord?” the challenger deflected. “According to Arceus, you chose him over the entire world.”

“In a manner of speaking, I did,” admitted the champion. “Though I don’t expect Arceus to ever fully understand my decision.”

“Decision? You lost.”

Something flashed behind the champion’s eyes. It felt good to drag her down from the heavens.

“It was once said,” she told the challenger through gritted teeth, “that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing repeatedly and expecting different results.”

It was an odd response. The challenger did not care to understand its purpose. They were indeed old and frail, and this was their final chance.

“Today,” they told the champion, “I will win.”

“Very well,” the champion said, withdrawing an ancient-looking pokéball from her fine silks. She stood up and offered her challenger a hand. They glared at it. The champion sighed, withdrew her hand, and watched as the challenger struggled to their feet.

─────────────────

BEFORE

Her final pokémon was on low health when she finally defeated Volo’s Togekiss. She had refused to speak a word during the fight, despite his taunting smiles and various confident poses. In addition to being insane, Volo was apparently also an incredibly skilled trainer. Not quite as skilled as the champion, though, as his final and most beloved pokémon returned to her ball.

Volo shook his head, still wearing that deranged smile, as he returned the pokéball to some unseen pocket in his ridiculous Arceus outfit. The champion sighed with relief, grateful that this would be over soon. He’d abandon the temple in defeat, and she would mourn his betrayal in peace. Short of physically attacking her, he had no other way to take the plates by force—and she still could not believe that Volo was capable of such brutality, when his entire goal was to create a better, fairer world.

(Honestly, if he hadn’t hurt her so profoundly in the process of achieving that goal, she thought she might admire him for his idealism.)

She shook her head. He was a hypocrite and out of his right mind. The last thing he deserved was admiration, or even an attempt at understanding. She would return to the village and forget all about him, and try her best to find someone else in this world who made sense. Maybe if Arceus saw her success, it would even return her to her world. Defeating Volo had been her ultimate mission, right?

Which…

If Arceus had sent her to correct Volo’s disturbance of the natural order, it had always known about Volo’s hidden intentions. This entire time, it had watched its chosen champion find comfort in her destined enemy, without so much as a word of caution.

It must have been intentional, then, for Arceus to keep her in the dark. But why?

“Why?” Volo demanded, now despondent in his defeat. “Why you?! Why do you have the blessing of Arceus?”

She didn’t know. He knew that she didn’t know.

“I’ve devoted myself to Arceus beyond any other!” Volo ranted, seemingly towards the heavens themselves. “I worshiped it as the creator of our entire world! I bent all of my passion and interest and study! All the time I’ve spent poring over the legends.. Everything that I’ve done—!”

The champion had served Arceus’s mission dutifully since her arrival in Hisui. Although reluctant at times, she had quelled the nobles and assembled the Red Chain. She had immediately opposed Volo, who sought to destroy the world Arceus created. This mission was her entire life—her job, her hobby, her singular purpose upon being transported to Hisui without her consent.

“You outsider!” Volo hissed, now glaring directly at the champion. “It’s almost as if you were spat out of the space-time rift just to get in my way!”

She felt a lump rise in her throat.

Volo had been the one thing, here, that she’d chosen for herself. To her, their friendship had been disconnected from her holy mission or crushing responsibilities—in fact, it had been a much-needed relief.

But the entire time, he had only viewed her as Arceus’s chosen hero. And he despised her for it.

Silent tears ran down the champion’s cheeks. He seemed not to notice, or not to care.

“No,” Volo told himself, “no, this isn’t finished yet.”

Please, she almost begged, but didn’t. She didn’t know how much more of this she could stand. But she couldn’t leave, either, not when he still posed a threat, not when she deserved answers but couldn’t yet bring herself to ask—

Volo grinned again, his derangement reaching its apparent peak. “Can’t you feel it? The chill creeping through your veins—the eldritch presence icing your heart?”

She felt something, as dark shadows began to appear behind Volo. A massive void, from which a large creature began to emerge. It screeched as Volo began to laugh, its wings unfolding and its body taking material form. The champion recognized Giratina at once, well-primed by Volo’s lecture in the Celestica Ruins.

Volo regarded her in the throes of his mania, unwilling and unable to recognize her as anything but his enemy. Perhaps that was too charitable an interpretation, but—

“GIRATINA!” Volo shouted, clenching his hands as if they already held the plates of Arceus. “STRIKE HER DOWN!”

He laughed again, his eyes wide and his body hunched, as Giratina roared.

The champion released her final available pokémon, which only possessed a quarter of its health. She then turned on her heel, summoned Wyrdeer, and headed for the temple exit, using the ill-fated battle as a brief distraction. She ignored the sound of her fainting pokémon and Volo’s confused yelling as she pulled her Arcphone from her satchel and held it to her ear.

“You have to stop him,” the champion demanded as she entered the passageway beneath the peak of Mount Coronet. The cave was cool and blessedly quiet, and she only stopped moving when she received her response.

Thou hast been defeated in battle. Thou shalt try again.

─────────────────

NOW

As always, the challenger had put up a very good fight.

“Will this be the last time I see you?” the champion asked, almost bored in her victory. The challenger just glared at her, returning their fainted pokémon to their pocket.

“One can hope,” they said, and revealed their knife. If repetition with the expectation of different result was insanity, then they were no longer insane. Because this approach, this last-ditch effort, was entirely unprecedented—even to Arceus itself.

Using their last reserves of energy and strength, the challenger seized the woman. Short of stature and physically softened by ages of casual godhood, she could show little resistance to even the oldest of heroes. And, of course, there was the matter of the blade held to her throat.

“He will lower himself from the heavens and face me,” the challenger said between gritted teeth. The champion swallowed.

“Arceus has driven you to this,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

“Lord Volo has driven me to this. Arceus has only ever encouraged me to be better.”

“Thou hast been defeated in battle. Thou shalt try again.”

The challenger’s eyed widened. “How do you…?”

The champion sighed. “I heard it too. Every single time.” She was infuriatingly unfazed by the threat to her life. “How relieving it must be,” she said, “to lose the memory of each of your losses.”

“I find it rather inconvenient, actually,” shot back the challenger, holding the blade closer to her throat.

The champion smiled sadly and shook her head.

─────────────────

BEFORE

Eventually, she found herself trying to lose.

The fight with Volo had become like second nature to the champion, who since her first attempt had assembled the ideal team to counter his specific pokémon and fighting habits. Arceus knew she had been given enough attempts to observe him, some of which ended before Giratina even appeared. Volo was undeniably skilled, and dedicated to his own victory in a way that consistently astounded the champion. But while each new battle seemed to be Volo’s first, his memory struck of previous victories and defeats, the champion remembered everything.

At this point, she knew Volo almost entirely as the man she’d truly met atop Mount Coronet. Memories of their previous friendship lingered in small instances, but she had lost much of her attachment to his formerly comforting presence. This made it easier for her, as Arceus’s champion, to study and practice and try again and again and again.

She was confident, now, that she could defeat him. Him and Giratina, and then she would finally witness the world after such events transpired. Would he give up immediately, or try to harm her further? Would they finally speak as their true selves, or would he just disappear? If he did disappear, would he be gone forever?

The champion was still far from completing the the Pokédex and meeting Arceus, who only potentially could send her home. In the meantime, she would still be stuck in Hisui, alone. Almost certainly without him.

The outfit was not… irredeemably ill-conceived. With some modifications, she could understand the vision. And it would be easy for Volo to take down the Arceus style, allowing his hair to flow naturally. When the champion watched him during their battles, she often tried to imagine him in a different state of mind. She analyzed what she understood of his plans, was reluctantly impressed by his enduring commitment to his own aspirations. She got the best impression she could of the real Volo, a friend and a stranger and her only companion in this endless cycle of failure.

She never spoke to him. The idea of conversation felt wrong, as if disturbing a scripted play or painting over a work of art. And besides, even if she managed to change the narrative through speech, her inevitable failure would render the results meaningless. She would, always, try again. Until she won, she would try again.

As she approach the Temple of Sinnoh once again, the champion thought that she might be going insane. It made no sense, that she had not yet used her knowledge and practice to end this cycle. But every time she had the chance, she just… couldn’t. She would lose, retreat to the cave, call Arceus, and receive the same answer each time.

Thou hast been defeated in battle. Thou shalt try again.

There had been a few close calls, where she’d almost won. Especially against Giratina, she often stood a very good chance. But then she would remind herself that this was not fair in the slightest, because she had been given infinite chances to practice and strategize. Yes, Volo had technically cheated as well, but abusing Arceus’s blessing in such a manner simply felt cheap.

That was what she told herself. Eventually, someday, she would see an opportunity for victory that she could truly call fair, and she would take it. But until then, she would just have to lose.

And he would still be here. Insane, but here.

Insane.

She was going insane.

“I think I’m going insane,” she told Arceus after yet another loss.

Thou hast been defeated in battle. Thou shalt try again.

“I know I’m going insane.”

Thou hast been defeated in battle. Thou shalt try again.

“Why don’t you try, for once?” the champion challenged, gripping the phone tightly.

Thou hast been defeated in battle. Thou shalt try again.

And then, she thought it. For the first time in what felt like an eternity of repetition, she finally thought something new:

“Why can’t I lose?” the champion asked, her voice shaking as tears ran down her cheeks. She did not understand what she was asking, exactly—she could not lose because Arceus had blessed her, that much was already obvious. The world, this world, worked in her favor in some unearned and unwanted way. Yes, she could retreat from the mountain at any time to train her team, but that still left Volo up in the temple, nearly indistinguishable from the person she had grown to love. He would not follow her, would not attempt to seize the plates by any other means, seemingly frozen in time and place by divine circumstance. She would never have her former friend back, and if she moved forward, Arceus would never allow her to befriend him as he was now.

And she—

She would just keep going, in Volo’s absence. If not this battle, she would be fighting another. Again and again and again, until Arceus deemed her worthy. Arceus, who had lied to her, manipulated her, taken her from her home without her knowledge or consent. Who had created this world and its mysterious mechanics, blessing—no, cursing—her to endure.

Thou hast been defeated in battle. Thou shalt try again.

God’s champion hung up the phone.

─────────────────

NOW

Much to the challenger’s surprise, Lord Volo had not immediately arrived to save his champion.

“He can see this, right?” they demanded, as their arms grew increasingly tired around her.

She scoffed. “Of course he can.”

“So why isn’t he coming? Perhaps he cares less for you than you believed.”

The champion met the challenger’s gaze. “He knows that you would never actually murder me. That is not becoming of the world he designed.”

The challenger narrowed their eyes. This had always been a possibility. “Fine,” they said. “But would your Lord stand by while you are in pain?”

For the first time, the champion looked afraid. “I—”

The challenger plunged their knife into her fine white silks.

─────────────────

BEFORE

The champion surrendered.

It was not a victory, nor was it any sort of defeat she had experienced before. Instead of intentionally losing the fight, she had refused to even allow its commencement. She had approached Volo where he stood, suspended in space and time, and offered him her satchel containing the plates of Arceus.

He stared at it, pupils shrunken and hungry. A smile crept onto his face. “How precious,” he said, almost tenderly. “You only needed a moment to think, before deciding to see things my way.”

The champion scowled. To him, it had been only a moment.

“You’re insane,” she said, showing no resistance when he began to take the satchel from her. He paused, though, upon hearing her first words towards his true self.

“Did you not listen in the ruins?” he asked, slight irritability piercing through his mania. “My reasoning is entirely rational. If God did not want to run the risk of its power falling into our hands, it should not have created its plates on our mortal plane. It is my right to seize them, and use that power to create a better world.”

“You could make this world a better place.”

Volo shook his head, smiling sadly. “Can’t be done. Trust me, I’ve tried.”

“You made it better for me.”

The words left her mouth before she could stop them. She was so, so tired.

Volo narrowed his eyes, pupils still tiny but slightly more focused. “Whatever could you mean by that, hero?”

“You know my name,” said the champion, cursing her voice for cracking at the last word.

Volo looked properly confused, now. Especially as the champion began to shake. “What are you—”

“Just take it,” the champion said, feeling that lump in her throat again. She had felt so strong, when she’d hung up the ArcPhone in the cave. Self-assured, energized by the notion of ending this vicious cycle. It had seemed, if only for a moment, that she had found a way to truly win.

This did not feel like winning.

“Just fucking take it,” the champion repeated, shoving the satchel towards Volo. He did without further comment, but did not immediately dig inside. He only watched her, still far from sane but seemingly calmer at least.

Volo furrowed his brow. “You said I made the world better, for you. But I was using you. I am the reason for your existence here. You should hate me.”

The champion shook her head as a tear ran down her cheek. “I don’t hate you.”

“Don’t be foolish.”

She winced.

Volo studied her carefully. “What,” he said, “do you think your god would say of this?”

The champion shut her eyes. “Arceus doesn’t care about me.”

“Of course it does. It has chosen you to receive its blessings. It loves you, as it will never love—” Volo cut himself off, though of course she understood how the sentence would have ended.

The champion felt pathetic as she met his eyes. “I love you.”

He blinked. “How?”

“I just do.”

Volo began to pace, shifting into a paranoid state. “A trick from Arceus,” he muttered to himself, clutching the satchel close to his chest. “A test? No, a safeguard—a temptation…”

A temptation?

“This is all by design,” Volo continued to ramble, “If I allow for this endearment, for this enduring desire—”

Enduring desire?

“I must be strong. There must be a better world. I must not allow myself to—”

“Was any of it real?” the champion asked, point-blank.

“Yes,” Volo said at once.

“Which parts were fake?”

“The parts that mattered.”

She narrowed her eyes, trying to understand. Volo sighed.

“The parts vital to my mission,” he clarified, “were false. The merchant charade, the search for the plates.”

“And that’s what mattered?”

Volo avoided her eyes. “Nothing else can matter in this world,” he told the champion. “Nothing else will remain.”

He looked haggard, as if this was a truth he’d refused to admit to himself before having it forced from his lips.

“It has never been my intention to carry over unwilling parties,” Volo reluctantly explained. “Involuntary acquiescence has no place in my better world.”

“What about lying and manipulation?” the champion asked. “And erasing everyone and everything that came before it?”

Exhausted, Volo gave his response: “I said ‘better.’ Not perfect.”

After a moment, the champion replied. “It mattered,” she said quietly. “To me.”

“Your mission?”

“Us.”

Volo regarded her as if for the very first time. “Us.”

She stepped forward slightly, reaching for his hand. He allowed her to take it, using the other to clutch her satchel.

“Do you want them to remain, in your new world?” the champion asked, looking into Volo’s wide exposed eye. “The parts that were real?”

He gave the slightest of nods.

She could not have him in this world. She could either continue this endless loop of suffering, or defeat him and likely never see him again. And it wasn’t just Volo who mattered, but the champion herself—with Arceus as her god, she knew that she would never truly be free.

“Is this the right decision?” she asked Volo, squeezing his hand tightly. He gently leaned down to place her satchel on the temple floor, then used his other hand to stroke her face.

“Must there always be a right decision and a wrong decision?”

“I should be ashamed.”

“I disagree.”

“What if I’m insane?”

“I would say that you are just as sane as I am,” Volo reasoned, “if you wish to remain by my side.”

The champion frowned. “That is not a reassuring statement.”

“It is all I can offer,” Volo said, holding her hand to his heart. Then, with a small smile: “That, and—”

He kissed her on the lips. When he pulled back, his eyes were almost back to normal.

“So?” Volo asked, eager and curious just as the champion had remembered him. Her heart ached with the comfort of familiarity—lost in the cycle of repetition, she hadn’t even realized how much she missed her former friend.

“It’s not perfect,” she said, “but it’s better.” She allowed herself to finally relax as Volo held her close.

Keeping one arm around his champion’s waist, Volo leaned down to retrieve the satchel once again. Despite her divine mission, the champion did not intervene.

“Very good,” Volo praised. His voice was warm and earnest, lacking the condescension one would usually associate with such a statement. “Now, rest. You’ve done more than enough already.”

And with that, at least, the champion could wholeheartedly agree.

─────────────────

NOW

Lord Volo appeared at once.

The challenger stepped away from the champion, their hands shaking as the knife clattered to the temple floor. Violence was a rare occurrence in this world, and murder was almost entirely unheard of—yet here they were, resorting to the former and possibly the latter as a desperate final effort.

“This was my mission,” the challenger prayed to Arceus as a figure descended from a shimmery stairway to the heavens. “Now please, give me strength...”

Thou hast been defeated in battle. Thou shalt try again.

“No, I haven’t! I’ve won—look, he’s coming now!”

Lord Volo was a tall man, appearing much as he’d been depicted in historical records and famous works of art: blonde, pale, draped in white silks resembling those of his champion. He reached the bottom stair and stepped onto the world he had created, barely giving the challenger a glance as he walked right by.

Thou hast been defeated in battle, the voice of Arceus said. Thou shalt try again.

But the challenger was not beaten yet.

They reached for the knife, even as their joints ached. Lord Volo disappeared the weapon with a flick of his wrist. He then took his champion in his arms and placed her onto the bench, speaking words that the challenger could not hear.

She seemed to be speaking, as well. Alive. Despite everything, the challenger felt relief at that.

There was a sort of peace, in knowing that this was the challenger’s final try. Their pokémon were fainted, their god had seemingly abandoned them, they had compromised their own values out of desperation after a lifetime of repeated failures. Now, Lord Volo would disappear them just as he had the knife.

At least in oblivion, the challenger would finally be able to rest.

The champion muttered something more to her god, who then turned to face the challenger. He did not look happy, but seemed to be exercising some kind of restraint.

He looked back at the champion, who nodded. Lord Volo sighed.

“Very well,” he said, and flicked his wrist again. The challenger inhaled sharply, and then they

─────────────────

In the heavens, he saw to her healing.

“I’m sorry,” Volo said for what felt like the millionth time, although it would never truly be enough. He held a hand over his champion’s wound, glowing gold with healing light. “I’m sorry, and I love you.”

“Don’t be sorry,” the champion said, kissing the side of his other hand. “The rosiness had begun to return to her skin, her deific attire now clean of the blood that had stained it. “I understood the risks of going down there undisguised.”

“That isn’t supposed to happen, though,” Volo said, trying to mind his temper as he channelled healing towards the champion’s wound. “Violence and murder, they’re not—not a part of our world.”

“Neither is the voice of Arceus,” the champion countered. “But even from within its containment, it still finds a way to haunt its champion.”

She glanced pointedly towards the pokéball on Volo’s hip. He had wielded its power to destroy the old world and create this one anew, to grant himself and his partner endless life and a home in the heavens above. He supposed it made sense that if Arceus’s power still existed in this world, its voice could never truly disappear.

“What will happen now?” Volo asked, shifting slightly against the headboard of their bed. “Will there be another challenger?”

“Probably,” said the champion. “Eventually.”

“But the one who…?

“I think they’re safe. An infant without memory of their past life, reborn free of Arceus’s influence. Of all the people in this world, why would it choose them again?”

Volo frowned, thinking of the recent confrontation. “I wanted to destroy them, for what they did.”

“Then it’s a good thing I’m here,” teased the champion, “to make sure you don’t repeat old patterns.”

He smiled fondly, thinking of the many way they’d helped each other create this new world from the ashes of its predecessor. Not only was his champion beautiful, but she was also brilliant—always had been, although he’d been rather slow on the uptake. In Volo’s defense, he’d very much written her off as a loss before her surrender on Mount Coronet. It had been a matter of strategy, to avoid considering her inner life.

“Can I ask you something?” said Volo, watching his champion with endless interest. She nodded. “What changed your mind, in the cave?”

She looked surprised by the question. “What do you mean?”

“On the day that the old world fell, you initially ran away,” Volo recalled. “Disappeared into the passageway for only a moment, then emerged again to hand over the plates. Why?”

The champion appeared conflicted, which was not the desired outcome of Volo’s questioning. He had his suspicions, based on previous reactions around the subject, that this was not a memory she often wished to revisit.

“I felt defeated,” the champion said, “so I tried something new.”

Volo couldn’t help but think of the challenger, who his champion had always seemed to care for despite the annoyance they caused. Even after their unfathomable act of violence, she had insisted that Volo reincarnate them rather than destroy them entirely.

“Something new?” he asked the champion, as he felt her pain ease beneath his fingertips. “Had there been… something before?”

She nodded. “Over and over again. And I remembered everything.”

A chill ran down Volo’s spine. With this revelation, the champion’s requests to borrow his spiritomb while facing Arceus’s challenger made an entirely new sort of sense.

“You never told me,” he said.

“In a way, I did,” she replied with a soft smile. “When you suggested that we were both insane, I didn’t disagree.”

Still so very cryptic. Volo kissed the champion’s forehead, vowing to someday learn every secret within it.

“And how do you feel now?” he asked as the stab wound faded entirely from her skin. Good as new.

His champion regarded him knowingly, lovingly, shamelessly.

“I feel better.”

[the-oaken-muse]

And Gray Ghost too bc why not insert risedanno

And here's yours Hannah! Part 1, if you missed it

Would You Still Love Me? Part 2

They sat side by side, her head on his shoulder, watching as the setting sun painted distant clouds in brilliant shades of pink and orange. The remains of their supper packed away in the basket once again.

“What if you didn’t recognize me?” came Danny’s quiet question.

She tilted her head slightly so she could look up at his face. “Why wouldn’t I recognize you?”

“What if I came back different? What if I didn’t look like me? Would you still love me, or would you hate me like every other ghost?”

“Danny, I don’t think I could ever hate you. I think that’s, like, impossible.”

“But what if you didn’t know it was me?” he insisted.

She sat up fully and took his face in her hands, forcing him to look at her. “I don’t love you because of what you look like–”

“Gee, thanks.” he rolled his eyes.

Valerie had to fight down the urge to shake her boyfriend, settling instead for a stern glare. “I love you for who you are. Danny, you’ve got a good heart and you stand up for what you believe in, even if your big mouth gets you into more trouble than it’s worth. You get way too into video games and bowling and mini golf, but you’re always willing to show a new player a few tricks. You stay up too late stargazing but you know all the constellations by heart and will tell me their stories as many times as I ask. Your coffee is a sugary monstrosity that’s mostly milk but you drink enough of it that I still think your caffeine intake would kill a normal person.”

He chuckled breathlessly at that and her heart skipped a beat. The light was fading fast now, a cool breeze danced in his hair and raised goosebumps on her arms, but she kept going.

“You’re always there for your friends, sometimes I feel like you take better care of other people than you do yourself and I want you to know that I’m here for you and it’s okay to ask for help sometimes. You’re so, so resourceful and even if your grades don’t show it, you’re one of the smartest people I know. You can always make me laugh, even on my worst days and even though your hands are always cold, you give the warmest hugs.”

She brushed his cheeks with her thumbs, wiping away the tears that had fallen there. He covered her hands with his and leaned into her touch.

“Those are the things that make you you, not what you look like. Ghost or not, as long as those things are true, I’ll recognize you, I promise.” She leaned forward and brushed a gentle kiss at the corner of his mouth.

When she pulled away, he tugged her back, drawing her into a crushing embrace, her head pressed firmly against his chest. His heart beat a slow, steady rhythm in her ear, but he felt stiff, like he had earlier, and she worried that something was still bothering him. She wrapped her arms around his back and tried to squeeze as much love into the hug as possible. 

“Jeez Val, are you trying to kill me?” he wheezed and a laugh rumbled through him, “Just because you said you’d love me as a ghost doesn’t mean I want you to prove it right now!”

She laughed with him, loosening her grip. The two fell back until they were lying on the blanket, gazing up at the first stars in the night sky. Valerie found herself curled into Danny’s side, her head resting once again on his shoulder. 

“Will you tell me the myth of Arcus and Callisto?” she murmured.

“Alright,” he hummed. “Arcus was the son of Zeus and Callisto, one day his grandfather Lycaon, uh, that was his grandfather on Callisto’s side by the way,  decided to test Zeus by feeding him his own son. Now, you can probably guess that that didn’t go over too well with Zeus…”

Danny’s words faded together into a soothing river of sound as her thoughts wandered. It was a story she’d heard before, Callisto had been turned into a bear by a jealous Hera and Arcus had hunted her, not knowing she was his mother. 

She thought back to Danny’s question: what if she didn’t recognize him? What if she was doomed to hunt him down, the love of her life,  with no gods to step in at the last minute and scatter them among the stars. Surely she would recognize him, she told herself, she had to. But did she recognize any of the ghosts she hunted? They had once been people too, right? It’s not like she really got to know them, she was more of a shoot first, ask questions never kind of girl.

Maybe she should change that...

[patrickjanebrain]

Red Hot: The Slow Slow Burn of Jane and Lisbon (Walter Mashburn Edition)

I just finished re-watching Red Hot (3x07), and I have some thoughts about Lisbon and her aborted love affair with Walter Mashburn.

I admit that I didn't like it that [spoiler] Lisbon had a one-night stand with Mashburn. I enjoy the character. Mashburn was entertaining, charming, and likable in a whimsical sort of ruthless way, and Currie Graham had great chemistry with both Simon Baker and Robin Tunney. It would have been interesting if he had made more appearances on the show. But I felt it was out of character for Lisbon to just take him for a quick spin and then never see him again. And obviously he's a horrible romantic bet. The writers make that clear when they introduce him.

And then I realized that's the point.

During the 7 seasons of The Mentalist, in the course of their investigations, Lisbon and Jane meet hundreds of people, and Walter Mashburn is quite unique among them. He and Jane hit it off right away, despite the fact that Jane suspects him of being a possible murderer. Mashburn immediately understands exactly who Jane is ("You're a psychic, aren't you?").

He succinctly sums up Jane's entire raison d'etre the second time they meet.

Walter Mashburn: Oh, I know you're a charlatan as I said. You lost your wife and kid to a serial killer, your fault you think. And now you're on this hopeless quest for redemption. Battling evil and injustice, right?

Patrick Jane: Close enough.

Walter Mashburn: You play mind games with people. You size up their weaknesses, and then you give them the rope to hang themselves.

Patrick Jane: Oh, you make it sound so cool.

Mashburn happily goes along with all of Jane's schemes because he's essentially bored being the smartest, most danger-seeing, risk-taking person in the room all of the time. He enjoys new experiences.

Mashburn also has a thing for revenge. When we meet him a second time it's because he's in the process of destroying an old enemy, Yuri Bajoran. He's maneuvered a hostile buyout of his business, Yuri's "baby," because Yuri once stole the woman he loved away from Mashburn.

Playful. Ruthless. Brilliant. Charming. Hedonistic. Risk taking.

You get where I'm going here. He's Patrick Jane. Minus the trauma.

Mashburn is what Jane was trying to become before his wife and child were murdered. He was chasing fame and fortune. He was ignoring his wife's desire to live a straight life because he was having too much fun indulging himself.

And then, because of Jane's arrogance and carelessness, Red John deliberately targeted Angela and Charlotte for destruction, and Jane had to do a massive internal restructuring of his priorities.

When we first meet Jane, he's still playful, charming, ruthless, brilliant, and risk taking. But now he has a mission, and that suicide mission for revenge takes precedence over ever other thing. He's no longer self indulgent. He's sublimated his hedonistic urges, including his sexuality, to give himself greater focus. The only thing that matters is hunting down and killing Red John.

Then he meets Teresa Lisbon.

Lisbon is a soulmate. She has survived her own crucible of trauma, and she has a critical understanding of (and empathy for) broken, hurting men. She understands that Jane is off-limits romantically. He's shut down. He may flirt and charm out of habit or need, but the part of him that could give something to a relationship is no longer operational. There is an attraction between them, but it's impossible.

That impossibility is the reason they allow themselves to get so close and eventually care so deeply for each other.

Because Teresa is extremely skittish. She's a bolter. She left Chicago because she felt tied down taking care of her father and brothers. She abandoned her fiance when things got too serious between them. She's afraid of commitment. To her commitment feels like slavery, and she doesn't want that. She's afraid of that.

But that doesn't mean that she's not attracted to Mashburn. She has a type: she likes charming, ruthless bad boys who don't follow the rules. She knows they're bad for her, but she can't help it. That's her thing.

When she meets Walter, he immediately tells her he's attracted to her and available.

He asks her out. He says he'll fly his plane to Sacramento to see her. Jane finds all of this amusing. He agrees with Mashburn's assessment of Lisbon's appeal and compliments him on his style. And later he tells Lisbon that she should have taken him up on his offer, that a little empty glamour would be good for her.

When you realize that Mashburn is a stand-in for Jane, the whole thing is quite funny, really. Lisbon being attracted to Jane. Jane telling Lisbon that he'd be good for her, loosen her up a little.

When they meet again in Red Hot, Lisbon does take Mashburn up on his offer. She enjoys herself, and then like the skittish filly she is, she never sees him again. It's too much. Too tempting, too out of character for the person she wants to be. And Mashburn could overpower her emotionally. She doesn't want that.

The trauma, their mutual trauma, is what Jane and Lisbon share and bond over. It's what keeps them apart, and what eventually, after that slow, slow burn, brings them together. The attraction was always there. It's takes time to build that complete understanding and utter trust, and it never would have happened if Jane had been available to begin with.

@tmsource @robntunney @tresalisbon

[honey-tea-and-cookies]

Can you make a post on who you’d frick, marry, and kill and explain why for the rising signs in the future? Would be interesting !

This is such a fun ask lol, of course I can! I'm a minor and don't really want to post NSFW content, so I changed it to Friend. I hope that's okay :). I admit I had to think about who I'd kill for while but I immediately knew the answers to the other two sorry. Thank you for sending this in :)

Friend, Marry, Kill w/ The Rising Signs

Aries: Kill. Listen, I'm friends with A TON of Aries risings. There are so many of you?? Anyway, that's not the point. Personally, I just find you guys not that interesting (in regard to your rising)? You generally have all your signs in the houses where they are meant to be. To me, that can mean you blend into the background. I think y'all are cool and fun once I get to know you, but unless you have major planets in the 1st house, I probably won't notice you straight-up sorry :(

Taurus: Marry. I am a Taurus rising so I may be biased BUT y'all are so gorgeous and amazing, 100% one of my favourites. Always funny. Always kind and comforting. I have an extreme urge to hang out with you in a forest. Your outfits always go off, I trust you more than anyone (except maybe Scorpio rising I love the Taurus-Scorpio axis) for fashion advice. Please, let's have a date where you come over and we just bake. I love you sm.

Gemini: Friend. You are absolutely stunning, and very witty. I gave you Friend because you are so easy to vibe with, you know? Also, so many people have a crush on you. People are oddly drawn to you and it's wild. You're also kind of annoying, but in a funny way. My conversations with you are endlessly entertaining, thank you. Y'all are also really flirty with your friends. Go off I guess, we are besties.

Cancer: Kill. You guys are deceptive as hell. Just straight-up lie. Also sometimes you're friends with not-so-nice people. Also JUDGING YOU for your music taste. You are very pretty, but you're really bitchy sometimes, and that's not cute :/. Also, you're probably very smart. Which is great! But you dumb yourself down for others sometimes, and that's not okay either. Appreciate you for you, and get better friends. It'll make you a nicer person.

Leo: Friend. Iconic. Brilliant. Outstanding. Gorgeous. Absolutely hilarious. Fantastic individuals. I just want to impress you so bad. Your opinion means so much to me. It shouldn't, but it does. I mean, it's not like I really have to guess anyway. Your facial expressions and body language tell me everything. I know exactly how you feel about me. I know people always talk about your hair, but my favourite part of you is your smile. It's always wonderful, idk what it is. Me and you are forbidden besties 🤝

Virgo: Marry. YOU'RE SO PRETTY. You definitely have gorgeous eyelashes. Your cheeks are so soft. I wanna do skincare with you. Let me brush your hair while we re-watch our favourite show. Let me make us tea. I just wanna care for you. MWAH <33. You are the type of person I could introduce to my stuffed animal 😤. You are the type of person I would let take care of me when I'm sick (that's saying a lot because I have terrible health anxiety and don't tell ANYONE when I'm sick- not even my mum). You make me think of lavender flowers, if that means anything to you.

Libra: Kill. Fake. I don't know what you want with me. You make me anxious. I feel like I need to impress you, in a bad way. Not because I like you and want you to like me, but just so you stop bitching about me omg. Also it's so clear you don't know what's going on in the world, or how lucky you are to be in the position you are in. I know Libra can be 'aloof' but goddamn. Everything you do feels performative and it drives me up the wall. Be more true to yourself, please.

Scorpio: Marry. YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I LOVE YOU, BUT I'LL SAY IT AGAIN. You take the time to genuinely know and understand me. You'll let me rant about stupid things just because I'm excited about it. You listen to me. You know how much I love you too, but you don't say it much. That's okay! It's sort of unspoken. Though, I know if I needed verbal reassurance I could go to you and you'd tell me exactly how it is, and ease any concerns. As I mentioned in Taurus rising, you are one of the only people I trust with fashion choices. Please give me a hug, let me hold you <3

Sagittarius: Kill. I don't exactly have solid reasons for putting you as kill, it just felt right :/. You DEFINITELY have a terrible sleep schedule. Fix that. Y'all are the type to text me at awful hours and bring my sleep schedule down with yours, smh. Also, BE MEAN TO PEOPLE MORE. YOU ARE SO OUTWARDLY SWEET, IT CAN'T BE REAL. PUT SOMEONE IN THEIR PLACE. STOP SILENTLY JUDGING, SAY IT TO THEIR FACE. That's all I have to say, thank you :)

Capricorn: Marry. Mmmmmfff?!?!?! First off, y'all are hot. Second, you guys are just?? good at everything?? I'm in awe. You feel like how hot chocolate tastes. You'd call me 'idiot' as an affectionate nickname, and I'd be obsessed with it. You seem to know so much about everything, yet still are so eager to learn more. Please, teach me what you know and I'll teach you what I know. Study buddies fr. Come on, I'll put a record on and we can dance. Sit down, let me cook dinner, you relax. Let me help for once. I love you <3

Aquarius: Kill. Y'all are pick me's. You think (or at least, used to think) the pinnacle of comedy is scrunching up your face until it looks like you have a bunch of chins. Also your conspiracy theories are crazy. You're not interesting, your eyes are not 'open', you are not 'an independent thinker' because you think the moon landing was fake, shut up. I hate your music taste too, please never show ANYONE your Spotify wrapped.

Pisces: Friend. You guys are nice <3. You are the type to have a dream journal, and google what your dreams means. You might feel very tied to crystals, or be fascinated by them. Also probably artistically talented in some way. You're all adorable, I want to give you the biggest hugs. Please accept my love and affection :(. Your general wonder about the world is so sweet. You have a really unique way of looking at things and it's really refreshing. Very very sweet. Giving you a massive hug, always <3333

I'm sorry if any of this was too mean! I really didn't intend it to be. As I say every time I post something like this, there are no bad placements. It's all up to how you use them. Thank you so much for reading! Sending you all lots of love <3

[bemylord]

HeAr Me ouT - You & gojo go to movie theatre but before hand he makes you use a vibrator that he can control through his phone!!11!!!11!

ᴠɪʙʀᴀᴛɪɴɢ ᴘᴀɴᴛɪᴇꜱ ꜰɪ��. ɢᴏᴊᴏ ꜱᴀᴛᴏʀᴜ

ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴀ ɴᴏɪꜱᴇ

warnings: toy [vibrator], fingering, oral [fem/receiving], in the public, praise kink, gojo being teaser, overstimulated, nicknames.

a/c: hello, thanks for the request, it was wooow for me. actually, nothing new - satoru being fucking teaser and talks dirty with you <3 + gojo satoru can't stop calling you his little kitten.

gojo reminds a sadistic boyfriend - bringing to the ecstasy yet forbidding you to melt your legs, keeping them shaking from the upcoming orgasm. he coats your inner thighs with innocent, playful kisses, not touching the place where you need to be touched.

gojo satoru knows how to turn you from the innocent to the lecherous girl. as if you've gotten a corruption kink - your fingers are buried into white hair, pulling him as deep as it might be into your soaked place whilst he's running his tongue over your clit.

for today's tease, gojo asked you to put the vibrator in your pussy, calling it a certain game in which he will have control over you - he made eyes like the cat from shrek and you couldn't reject him.

primarily, you thought you will have a date somewhere in the woods, where you could scream as loud as you can as gojo fucks abused a hole, with a thumb teasing the clit.

but when gojo bought tickets to the last show, the name of the movie you don't even know, you knew - the jokes are over. satoru will certainly make you lost the clarity of mind when will be controlling the vibrations through the phone.

we all know why people buy tickets for the last movie - sometimes they want the extreme, the feeling of being caught in sexual coitus at any moment - not the most pleasant, but such a turn-on.

the people began to take their seats, gojo smirks at your face. 'wanna play a game, y/n?' he asked quietly, bringing your face closer by the chin, with a thumb tracing across your lips.

you shuddered as he inserted the finger into your mouth, playing with your tongue. 'mh~' you escaped involuntary moan made gojo's member twitched in his pants, barely holding himself back before the merriment began.

as the movie had started, the white-haired man placed his palm on your thigh, caresses from the knee to the hem of the skirt, slightly squeezing the skin as you placed your legs together. satoru slipped his palm between your legs, pressing the inner thigh as a sign, meaning to spread them apart.

it was an unspoken gesture you've followed by slowly pushing the knees apart as gojo turns on the toy - sudden vibrations inside your vagina rang out, it made you claw yourself into the couch. it was the perfect moment for him - satoru knelt down, spreading legs wider to have a better view of the panties. the gojo's face is decorated with a mocked smirk as he observed a small wet spot on the thin material.

'already wet, my little kitten.'

gojo swipes the phone screen up and down, using an app connecting with the toy, amused to watch how your expression change as the vibrations fill your vagina.

'people might see us.'

'you have to be quiet then.'

as the sorcerer is standing on the knees, he threw one leg on his shoulder, kissing your ankles not breaking up the eye contact - you've bitten the finger to quell the prolonged moan as your boyfriend intensified the vibrations.

how could you supposed to be muted as satoru oh fuck him gojo kissed your pussy through the fabric, making you breathe noisily, hoping people won't recognize you and him as sorcerers.

you tilted your hand behind your head as the oncoming orgasm is approaching when gojo's fingers find themselves caress your lump of nerves. you glanced at the room to ensure everyone is focused on the movie or busy by kissing their lovers rather than staring as gojo smiling his brilliant smiled as you've completely soaked the panties with your juices.

although he kept the toy on, not interrupting the vibration for even a second, not allowing you to have a break after torture. the shaman slides the soaked fabric aside, admiring the opened view of your dripping hole - his overflowing urge to lick and taste the juices in a room full of people is off the scale, it's so arousing and drugging his mind more than any drugs on this planet.

gosh, if licking your pussy would be a drug - fuck, he'd a junkie.

as you felt his warm tongue on your clit as gojo masterfully playing with the overstimulated bud, your mind is blowing off, yet you kept thinking how good is he at details. his fingers caressing your hips and the tip of his tongue has on target your clit, going down on the slit, playing teasingly with the labia.

'can i lick it here, my desperate kitten, can i?'

gojo satoru knew and knows the answer - he knows you couldn't reject the desire to get licked by his overwhelming muscle to your limit. the white-haired man put out the vibrator, watching as the liquid oozing from the vagina, although satoru can't allow your juices to fall on the couch - he pressed his tongue imperiously on your hole, greedily eat it, not even lick it, gojo's eating you out while you're boosting his ego by muffled whimpers.

'one more, my little, give daddy one more and i'm gonna fuck you in our bedroom where you can scream as loud as you could.'

satoru returned his tongue on your clit replacing his fingers inside your dripping pussy, feeling as your walls clenching his digits. you could swear you see the stars as the sorcerer slips the lump with his tongue; fingering you, stretching and preparing the entrance to be abused by his fat cock in your bedroom.

with every his movement, with every second, existing to be in the movie theater is hard for you to be noiseless - you couldn't be quiet whilst your boyfriend's tongue greedily caresses your clit, as if it were the last time.

'give me that, sweetheart,' he placed a teasing kiss on your inner thigh, rubbing his cheek against the skin as his fingers continue to stretch the walls. ''come on, kitten, daddy knows you're almost there.'

he's running tongue over the clit, as you clenched fingers once more, before giving satoru once again the liquid he willingly loves to lick.

he pulled his moist fingers out, staring intently into your eyes, licking his fingers in your juice - honestly, the best thing he's ever tasted.

'my good kitten, wanna have my cock now, yeah?'

you're too overdosed with his tongue to respond, yet nodded. you felt as he slides your panties back into place, lifting you into his arms. in the blink of an eye, you find yourself in your bedroom - you were always amazed at his abilities: he's so playful, so flighty, at a time when he is the most powerful sorcerer.

'i wanna your dick deep in my pussy, daddy.'

be careful what you've been asking for gojo's stamina knows no limits, he could fuck and fuck you throughout the night till the first rays of sunshine will appear on your face. satoru will build, build, and build the orgasms out of your body, satiating himself with your delightful moans.

'wanna be breed with your cum.'

how can he refuse his kitten wish?

* * *

forgive me for the end idk what happened the imagination + horny condition had caught me. there might be grammar issues, i'm sorry.

[swbumblebee]

There was earie silence after the damn Clanker’s pulsar cannons finally ceased. Well, aside from the grunts and curses of troopers struggling to remain upright in the thick mud that was their battlefield.

Commander Cody was about to turn and clarify the usual clean up procedures with General Kenobi, just a few steps away, when a small noise of discomfort sliced through the quiet and his head whipped around to the other man.

“General?” he barked, instantly alert. The General had been close to that final blast, but Cody had thought it a safe distance.

He shlepped his way over to the Jedi standing with his back to him, and his head bent low, exposing the pale skin at the back of his neck.

Broken bones? Burns? Shrapnel?

“Sir?” Cody asked again, close enough to see the man’s head was in his hands, features clenched as another grunt came out of him.

“Ugh Cody I’ve – Ow! Excuse me, I’ve got a bit of mud in my eyes” the General rose his head and attempted to look at Cody, rubbing his face.

Cody winced when he got a good look at the Jedi’s front; he was covered in mud and dust, coating his hair and beard, the beige of his robes barely visible.

But it was his face that made Cody cringe, his features were absolutely caked in more dirt. Dirt that the General was frantically scrubbing at, both hands balled into fists to rub at his eyes desperately.

A bit of mud?!

“Sir stop that!” Cody watched in horror as the General seemed to actively make his situation worse with his continued movements.

“General you’re making it worse!”

“I just need to – Ow!” The Jedi scrunched up his face and attempted to open his eyes, blinking and squinting at Cody, only for the grit to cause him to immediately shut them again in pain.

Idiot!

The Commander would later justify his next action with the facts that a) it had been a very long day, and b) his Jedi was being very frustrating, but when his advice went unheeded and the General continued futilely attempting to scrub the mud and dirt out of his eyes, Cody acted.

He reached out lightening quick and grabbed the other man’s skinny wrists in a vice like hold, pulling them away from his face.

“Ah! Cody!” The General attempted to scowl, screwing up his face again and blinking.

Time to bring out the big guns.

“Sir you need to stop” he barked in the tone he usually reserved for misbehaving shinies. He was immensely satisfied when his fearless C.O froze immediately.

Pressing his advantage he continued;

“Keep your eyes closed” he instructed, was flattered at the trust his General showed by immediately closing his eyes and scrunching his face up once again in irritation.

Cody glanced around quickly, still keeping a firm hold on his General.

“Cloth. Clean water” he barked at a nearby Lieutenant, who managed a hasty salute whilst scrambling to comply, dashing to the med tent.

Cody turned back to the man in front of him, taking the moment to give General Kenobi a critical once over. Still hunched slightly it was hard to see if he was completely uninjured, but aside from the mess he did look more or less alright.

Battered and exhausted in a way that made Cody want to give him a big hug and a whack upside the head, but more or less whole.

“Er…Cody” the man in question still had his eyes squeezed shut but there was a definite smirk forming on his lips beneath his dirty beard.

“Do you think you could let go now?” he asked lightly flexing his fingers, wrists still held in Cody’s grip.

“No.” He’d been down this road before. Give the silly, self-destructive Jedi an inch and he’d take a mile.

“Cody!”

“Sir” The General’s whining was interrupted by the arrival of Lieutenant Boots, with a clean white cloth and a jar of greenish water.

Cody glared at the jar, making no move to take it.

“I need clean water Lieutenant, what about that is hard to understand?” he demanded.

Boots, to his credit merely nodded.

“Yes Sir” the young trooper saluted unnecessarily and Cody resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “It’s bacta infused Sir, I got it from the med tent” he explained, straightening up. “Commander Kix said he’ll be out soon he wants to check the General himself. Er…Sir.”

“Oh for Force sake it’s just-“

“Thank you Boots, that’s appreciated” Cody ignored the grumbling from the Jedi and finally releasing his wrists to take the offered items.

“Keep them closed” he instructed as he let go. He took the grunt he received as an affirmative.

Taking the cloth and dunking it lightly in the water/bacta mix he moved closer to the Jedi. He could see the dirt in the pinched lines around his face, could smell the mixture of sweat and dirt that was all over him, so different to the usual scent of tea that usually marked his presence. The Commander shuffled closer still, willing himself not to focus on the fact that he could hear the other’s breathing and see the different tones in his hair under the dirt. He wondered absently how many people generally got this close to the General.

Snap out of it!

“Sir I’m going to just get some of this off” he said, irritated when his voice was softer than he intended.

General Kenobi just nodded.

Gently, more gently than he had done anything in his life, he pressed the cool cloth to the other’s face, pressing down ever so slightly on delicate eyelids, trying not to think too much about the uncomfortable twitch his touch was greeted with.

“Sorry” he said quietly, swallowing when his voice came out no more than a whisper.

“No no it’s alright” the Jedi assured him. And Cody would put it down to wishful thinking later, but the unflappable Jedi Master was definitely a little horse.

Cody continued his ministrations in silence, trying not to breathe too loudly, or smile in victory when General Kenobi relaxed a little into his touch.

The cloth was ruined by the time he got most of the muck off.

“There you go Sir, I’ve got most of it.”

And just like that, brilliant blue eyes flickered open, eyelids fluttering prettily whilst he blinked the last of the grit away.

“There you are” the General greeted softly, a sort of soft smile immediately taking up his dirty face.

Cody’s stomach gave an uncomfortable kind of wiggle.

“Yeah” he answered, again it came out as more of a whisper.

Well done Cody, real charming he berated himself as the cleared his throat and pulled himself together, only to be interrupted.

“Thank you” those impossibly blue eyes were looking into his earnestly, and the soft voice made it impossible to think.

Too close. Should move. He could see the redness around General Kenobi’s eyes and the irritation on the skin under them. Should get Kix.

But he didn’t want to move. And neither it seemed, did the General, who was continuing to look at him like Cody was the best thing he’d ever seen.

Footsteps behind them broke the spell, and in the blink of an eye the General suddenly straightened up, jumping to attention as if electrocuted. Cody nearly got whiplash at the jarring change in atmosphere.

“Well I think I’d better find somewhere to wash off-“

Cody was baffled for a moment…

“General Kenobi! I have an optical solution with your name on it!”

…before the dulcet tones of Kix, stomping towards them, explained the situation.

Cody rolled his eyes, turning away from the sight and back to his silly General with a telling off on his lips.

Only to find the space that was previously occupied by said flighty Jedi, was empty.

Of course it was. Bloody Jedi.

[chaoswithinstars]

fallen from grace [Tomioka G.]

CW: blood, biting, demon!reader, dom!reader

When you were turned into a demon, Giyuu was certain you would be like the rest of them. He had no hope and was fully prepared to take your life, to end your suffering as a bloodthirsty animal but you ran, faster and stronger because of your human blood still racing through your veins. He searched for you, interrogated other demons for years until he stopped seeing the point. Giyuu tried so hard not to think of you, pushing his memories of your time together into the furthest reaches of his mind until he met the siblings, seen the girl protect her human brother. That tiny flame of hope Giyuu tucked away in his soul became a wildfire and all thoughts of you came rushing back along with heartbreaking yearning for your gentle touch.

He started searching once again, efforts tripled until he finally found you. He found you at a lakeside, sitting on a mossy rock and humming a familiar tune. You looked like a goddess, framed by idyllic forest and the fireflies dancing in the night. You didn't change much. Your hair was longer, tips crimson, your eyes were no longer that brilliant shade you loved the most as a human but you were still all soft curves and gentle smiles. You looked at him as if he was all that you've been waiting for, like he was the one who ran away.

Giyuu has always been a good man. Silent, strong and smart, talented with a sword. He was admirable but somewhat oblivious to how other people perceived him. Not to you though. With you, he couldn't hide himself, shove back his desires and darkest thoughts. With you, Giyuu let himself sink into depravity. Maybe it was your demon nature or maybe it was because he remembered you from before- bright smiles, silver tongue and strength hidden beneath a fluffy exterior. Giyuu didn't know nor did he particularly care. Especially now that he has finally found you.

"You're beautiful." Giyuu didn't know what prompted him to break the silence nor why those were the first words to come from his mouth. He was enchanted by your appearance, by your graceful movements as you beckoned him closer. You were still humming that alluring tune, voice so lovely that it resonated somewhere deep in his soul, settling down what little urge to kill you he had.

Maybe it's your presence, that enchanting voice or the alluring scents of nature (of you) that made Giyuu drop all of his walls down. After all, most of his life has been spent in search of you and now that he found you… Why couldn't he let himself enjoy this moment of happiness, a moment so rare in the life of a demon slayer? Giyuu reached out towards you and you took Giyuu's hands in yours, pulling him closer and into your embrace. His lovely blue eyes traced each part of your face, memorizing that which he was already familiar with from a lifetime before. Giyuu was warm in your arms, sinking against your body like a doll whose strings were cut off. You smiled, lips framing your sharp teeth.

"And you're looking as tasty as ever, slayer." Your words made Giyuu's thoughts swim, disconnected. He could not think of anything else but you, making you happy, giving everything he is to you. "I've watched you, little mouse, seen you fight my kind and it made me ravenous."

Giyuu shuddered at your words and yet did nothing. He let you nuzzle his neck, lick a strip up to his jaw. You nibbled on his soft skin, tempting yourself with a taste of his flesh. And yet, Giyuu wasn't afraid. He yearned for more, for a revival of heated memories when you two were the same, when you were both human and weak, equal before the gods.

"It isn't often that a snack enters my den all by himself. Usually, there's more of you wretched humans disturbing my oasis." You speak, breath warm and tickling Giyuu's ear. Your hands pull him onto your lap, making him straddle you. Giyuu looks down at you, brain foggy from all sensations you brought on. "But you, little mouse, you're different. Makes me want to keep you like a good pet."

Giyuu allows you to pull him in for a kiss. It's hunger and fire, consuming him until he feels like nothing will be left of him. He grabs onto your shoulders, nails digging into your clothes as he struggles with himself, with the instincts urging him to rut against you, to moan and beg. Your claws slice through his clothes with ease, baring his skin to the cool air, to your own wandering hands. Giyuu gasps, ripping his mouth away from yours, out of breath. Your name echoes off the trees as you lavish his neck and chest with licks and bites, leaving marks on his pale skin. You break skin with your teeth on his chest, drawing blood. He whimpers as you lick it up then suck on the tiny wound. It's odd and dangerous but still a thrill Giyuu doesn't want to miss out on.

"What a good boy you are." It's a coo, a praise wrapped in a patronizing tone Giyuu usually hated but didn't mind now because it came from you. "Such a good snack, not struggling when I indulge a little taste."

You look into his eyes as your touches become more daring, lips still smiling even as your eyes devoured all of Giyuu's reactions. Giyuu's head fell back once you grasped his dick, fingers wrapping almost too hard around his length but a little pain was good as long as you were touching him.

"Look at me." You commanded and Giyuu obeyed immediately, eyes wide at your harsh tone. He didn't want you to be mad, to stop the movements of your hand. "What kind of a slayer are you? Wanting to fuck a demon of all things. You're messed up, aren't you? Don't worry, I won't tell, it's our little secret."

Giyuu felt his eyes tear up. It's been years since he last cried but your words struck a cord even as he felt pleasure from your hand and the tone of your voice. He felt so ashamed of himself. Indeed, what kind of a slayer was he?

"Are you going to cry, little mouse?" You laughed, hand moving faster over his dick. "I wonder what your friends would say if they could see you now. They'd probably laugh at you. Or maybe some would join me in my fun and we could all have a turn with you."

Giyuu whimpered, teeth clenched over his lips. The thoughts you put in his head were tempting, far too much for him.

"You're so close, aren't you?" You ask, knowing full well that it won't take long before Giyuu broke apart. "Don't worry, you can cum whenever you want."

Giyuu fucked into your fist, enjoying the squeeze of your fingers, every teasing pass over his leaking head, your demeaning yet arousing words. It didn't take that long for him to spill all over your hand, making a mess. A mess you happily fed to him until there was nothing left.

"On your knees, slayer." You ordered, pushing him out of your lap to his knees. Giyuu watched as you stripped, showing yourself off and he wondered what he did to deserve such a treat. Your body seemed to glow with some inner light, once again reminding Giyuu of a goddess. You were terrifying in your beauty and all Giyuu could think of was worshiping every inch of your being. "Good boy."

You sat back on your rock, straightening your left leg until your foot was on Giyuu's shoulder and he placed his trembling hand on your joint. He could feel your eyes on him as he kissed your leg, slowly moving upward until your knee was hooked over his shoulder. Giyuu looked up at you, eyes seeking permission to go further and a moan broke from him as you nodded. He dived in between your legs, arms over your thighs as he kissed then licked and sucked at all the right places of your pussy. Your taste was exquisite, like ambrosia sent down from heavens. Your scent was heady and your soft sighs like music to him.

You praised him, one hand gentle in his hair, pushing him further into you. Giyuu thought that he could die right now, with no regrets, just because he made you feel like this. You were so wet, so warm and sweet… Giyuu couldn't get enough. You cried out when his fingers, rough from sword handling, entered you, moving first slowly then faster until you were grinding against Giyuu's face, panting as you came closer to the edge. Giyuu looked up at you from between your legs, eyes focused on the ecstasy on your face. He curled his fingers inside of you, pressing against that spongy spot inside of you and your thighs locked around his head, keeping him still as you rode out your orgasm.

You hunch over him, pulling his head from between your legs, cradling his face in a gentle hold. Giyuu knows that he probably looks a mess from your arousal, face wet and red, but it was worth the sweet look in your eyes and hunger on your face. He'd let you devour him whole if only that was his last memory.

You push him down, sinking to your knees and straddling his hips. Your hands caress his chest, fingers curling and your claws leave red lines on his skin. Another mark Giyuu would be happy to carry on into his next life. He's out of words and breath when you sink onto him, taking him to the deepest reaches of your body and all he can do is hold onto your hips as you ride him hard and fast. Giyuu knows that you're just using him, that he should be happy that you gave him the honour of feeling your wet heat grip his dick, clench around him.

"Thank you, thank you…" The words tumble out of his mouth, unbidden but truthful. He cums when you laugh at him, when your clawed hand wraps around his throat, squeezing ever so lightly.

You continued riding him, drawing tears from his pretty eyes from overstimulation. You ride him until you've milked him dry and got your fill of ecstasy. A growl rips from somewhere deep in your chest as you cum, grinding down on him to get those little aftershocks of pleasure. Your hand moves from Giyuu's throat, fingers chasing sweat drops on his chest. You lie down on top of him, humming that same tune from before.

Giyuu doesn't particularly care that your teeth are close to his jugular, that you're splitting open his skin to lick up his blood. All he knows and wants is to stay with you, surrounded by your warmth.

"Poor little slayer." You murmur into Giyuu's ear, voice filled with pity and something else Giyuu cannot comprehend. "So many desires unspoken, so many wishes not coming through. Do not worry, I'll take care of you."

The slayer never noticed the miasma descending around you two, just closed his eyes as you sang him to sleep. He looked like a doll as you picked him up, body limp as you carried him up into the trees. You set him up among many other humans in your den but took special care to preserve him.

"My little mouse." You purred, caressing Giyuu's face, tracing his lips. "I'll be good to you, no one will ever find you or hurt you here."

[spideyspeaches]

Heart made of glass ↬ t.h

A/N: Beta read by the lovely @hollandcrush​ !! <3<3

Request (Summary): can you please write one about Tom, who is on the filming process of cherry and has some emotional problems because he feels that his character is already part of his life, so he comes home very angry and in a bad mood, so he just snaps and creates a big fight with the reader and just says things that he obviously didn't meant, you know very angst, and at the end just very fluff.

Hope you like this anon! Lemme know your thoughts heh <3<3

Warnings: breakdowns, slight vomiting but it’s not graphic. I’m not in any way romanticizing or sexualising breakdowns. 

WC: 2k+ 

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Masterlist || Taglist

Tom was an ambitious guy. He took his roles seriously, no matter what his character was and who he played. It was an admirable trait, the way he both enjoyed his work and worked hard to earn a high place in such a place as Hollywood. 

You always took pride in how amazing and accomplished your boyfriend was, your heart swelling whenever you heard his name being mentioned in events and interviews. You enjoyed how he tried to diversify the movies he worked in. 

("I've been playing the friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man for so long, it's about time I play someone different now." He once said in a Jimmy Kimmel interview. You were watching from the audience, smiling as the audience roared in affirmation. 

"Well looks like you took quite a big leap from playing a superhero." Jimmy said, smiling at the audience with his paparazzi smile. 

You knew the question was scripted, quite harmless, but you still noticed how his shoulder stiffened, his smile not wavering once. 

"Well yeah, I used to be a superhero and now I'm a heroin addict." He joked, winking at the audience as he ran a hand through his nearly hairless head.

He cried himself to sleep that night, burying his face in your chest as you shushed him. )

It always worked in his favour, with the incredible support his family and fan base provided. And he was always so humble about it. 

Filming Cherry, however, was way different than he thought it would. With filming Cherry came consequences that he didn't necessarily like. He knew what he was bringing on himself and his family when he was first introduced with the script.

(Contrary to popular belief, he didn't actually give out spoilers, it was just small promotional stunts that kind of took over as his reputation to spoil minor details.)  

The process was intense, getting into the mindset of "Cherry" was taxing, and people were beginning to notice it in him. He was more restless, tugging at his non existent curls when he thought no one would notice. 

He was more clingy, more appreciative of your body and you, letting you know that there was no sexual intent behind his acts of caressing your waist at random times. You didn't notice the change in his behaviour. 

He had always been like this, watching you with the most gratifying gaze a man could muster, his pretty brown eyes like globes of whiskey, staring at you with a muffled expression. You didn't notice. 

There had always been a cutting edge to his voice, you knew and adored it. Behind the British actor who played Spider-Man, he was your Tom. Your Tom who gave you forehead kisses and baked cakes with you and made silly playlists that reminded him of you and you of him, your Tom who worshiped the ground you walked on, your Tom, your Tom and your Tom.

(Sometimes you envied that he was an actor, so good at hiding any emotions he felt, it came easy to him, just another fake emotion like he was a face behind the camera.)

He was never aggressive towards you. Never. Even on tough days, he was soft, caring and understanding to the point where it made you mad, immediately making you feel guilty. He worked so hard and yet here you were, blaming him for being nice, never standing up for himself.

"Uh, Tom, Tom stop, wait." You grunted, pushing his shoulders as he scrambled away from you at your discontent. 

You held his face, his breath hitching, hyperventilating as he tried to get himself together. 

Ever since he had started filming Cherry, he had been away from you. And now that you were finally here, he had been all over you, making love to every inch of your skin, like it was a holy grail he had to find, caressing your warm skin under his fingers making you shiver as his nimble fingers wandered. It was the intimacy, sexual and quasi-sexual, that made you realise, that there was something wrong.

Sex- it had been a constant in your life other than Tom. But of course, you didn't live on it. It was but a fuel that strengthened your relationship, it was about discovery and showing your vulnerable sides. It was a reminder of the coffee dates and baseball matches. It was loving, gentle and raw, like a gentle breeze caressing your face.

But this, this was different. And you noticed. This, what you had been doing, it was fucking. It was aggressive and needy and it felt good, but at the same time, it felt different.

"Baby?" You asked softly, trying to meet his eyes in the dark lit trailer. It was late, way past filming times, the only time you got to see his vulnerable side. 

You should have been in his hotel room, but you were in his trailer instead. All alone in the all encompassing darkness, it made your heart stutter beats. 

"Baby speak to me. What's happening, who's doing this to you?" You ask once again, holding onto him firmly this time, his squirming frame making you loosen your hold. You didn't care that you were naked, he had already seen it all. 

Fiddling with the rough sheets, he huffed a heavy breath. And that was all it took for the dam to break. 

"Tell me how do you feel baby, you're starting to scare me." You urged. All you got in response was his muffled sobs. Pulling him forward, you let his head rest on your bare chest, rivulets of tears sliding down your warm skin, almost burning you like acid, his tiny hair tickling you, a very contrasting feeling. 

"I can't do it. I can't take it anymore." He sniffed, wrapping his strong arms around you, shivering at the contact. It was a cold night in Cleveland, and you were naked and he was crying. You were berating yourself for not noticing. 

"What can't you take anymore?" You hold him, tracing circles on his buzz cut hair, just the way you did when he had his curls. 

"I feel like I'm becoming him. I don't like it at all, I try and try but I can't." He sobs, shoulders hitching with each sob. You felt your heart break, the sounds of his cries sending daggers into your skin. 

How could you have not noticed? The lively sunshine of a man was almost an empty shell. The interviews with former drug addicts had been excruciating for you, pity, disgust, sympathy and every other sinful emotion swirling in your mind. 

You couldn't believe that you hadn't thought about Tom, of what an effect it would have on him. 

"Bub, listen to me, carefully," you said, shushing him as he continued to look at you, teary eyed and red nosed, snot dripping out of his nose,"you listen to me. You're strong and resilient and nothing like him okay? He's not you. You're Tom Holland. You're brilliant and brave and amazing okay?" 

"But I don't feel that way!" He said, his aggressive stance surprising you, "he's- he's…" 

"He's what?" You asked, a little too impatient. Muttering a sorry, you rub your palm on his cheek, kissing the soft, moist skin.

"I don't feel so good." He croaked, getting up suddenly, making a run for the washroom. You rushed after him, watching him as he heaved into the toilet. Rubbing his back, you muttered affirmations, curling besides him as he sat on the ground, his back to the cold wall. 

You got up to switch on the lights, feeling his hands tugging yours, a soft "stay" coming out of him. 

"Better?" You asked, feeling him now against your collarbone. 

"I shouldn't be this affected, this- this isn't fair. I'm overreacting, I'm sorry I worried you baby I swear I didn't mean to-" 

"Shh, Tom first of all, you're not overreacting okay?" You smiled, kissing his nose, moving towards his brows and his forehead, "It's perfectly reasonable. The role you're playing...It's not exactly picking daisies. Fuck you're playing a heroin addict Tommy, a broken soldier with PTSD, a breakdown was inevitable. It only shows that you're human." 

"Really?" He smiled, it looked more like a grimace, a plea for reassurance. 

"Yes, really." You said, booping his nose, eliciting a giggle from him,"now, you better go to bed mister, you have an early shoot don't you?" You playfully scolded, kissing his lips, laughing as he carried you bridal style. 

"Tomorrow will be better." You whispered, kissing his eyelids, already closed, chest moving rhythmically as you counted his pulse, making sure he was completely asleep before slipping on your clothes, covering him with the thin quilt. 

***

"Is everything okay on set?" You asked casually, watching the crewmates work tirelessly in the daylight. 

You were standing next to Ciara on a prop jeep, fiddling with the water bottle held in your hand. 

"Hmm, as okay it can be with two people playing drug addicts." She shrugged, looking at you with a small smile. 

"Are you okay?" You asked, turning to give her your full attention, remembering your boyfriend's breakdown yesterday. 

"It gets… intense at times. Some scenes are hard to play, but we're okay. Mostly." She answered, taking your water bottle and chugging the water. 

"I'm not a therapist, but you can talk to me, you know?" You smiled, holding her shoulder as she gave you a bashful smile. 

"It's been tough on Tom. He's more aggressive, nearly had a breakdown during a scene." She said. 

"Yeah, that.. that happened yesterday too." 

"It was time, a person can only hold so much right?" 

"Yeah." 

You pondered her words, wondering if you could do anything to curb this. 

"I think I need help." He said one day while you were eating dinner. Harry, who was sitting next to you, looked up from his plate, giving you a knowing look before clearing his throat. 

"I'm gonna get some water." He said, waving awkwardly at you and getting up. You took that as a cue to scoot closer to Tom, running your hands through his camel hair. 

"That's very brave of you hun, asking for help." You smiled, kissing his cheek softly. You felt him smile, sliding closer to you, holding you by your waist. 

"I learnt from the best." He muttered in your hair, kissing your forehead. 

You felt his love that day, felt the way he ran his smooth fingers on your waistline, sliding across your thighs with care and softness you hadn't felt in a while. He was healing. It was a process, it took time but it happened.

***

You were walking across the library, his hand in yours, your hearts beating in silence. 

"How was your appointment?" You asked, shivering in the cold air. You rubbed your palms together, bringing your jacket closer to your chest, huffing the cold air. 

"It was good, much different from what the media portrays. She even showed me this meme she thinks you would like, look." He said, bringing out his phone to show you the saved meme. 

You laughed at his eagerness, kissing his lips as a final gratification. 

"Well it looks like you're having a great time. You have another scene left to do today in the evening so we better scram." You reminded him. 

You always did that, remind him of his schedule, reminded him to take a breath when he felt like he was drowning. You reminded him of home and what he had to look forward to.

"Why can't we have a lazy day today?" He whined, kissing your neck, making you giggle as it tickled. 

"You know you can't do that hun, you already took three days off." You snickered, poking his sides. 

"Well that sucks. I just want to spend my day with my girl, is that too much to ask?" He smiled, kissing your forehead, one hand holding yours, swinging back and forth, the other holding a large cup of coffee in a tight grip. 

You reached to loosen his fingers, taking a sip, slurping loudly, making him laugh. You decided you liked this laugh much better, it was breathy and free, a melody to your ears. 

You noticed how he was more relaxed and back to being that ray of sunshine. Back to being your Tom.

Thanks for reading! also as a side note- here’s a similar fic @itsallyscorner​ !!

[findingjoynweirdstuff]

Dream SMP Recap (February 26/2021) - ...What?

DreamXD helped George build a McDonald’s, Quackity’s double joined, Jack and Andrea went on a date with Sam and Foolish joining in as wingmen, Andrea was lured to the Egg, Wilbur (non-canonically) had a heart attack during a horse/footrace and died...

Just an average day in the Dream SMP, I suppose?

---

VOD LINKS:

Ranboo

Captain Puffy

Georgenotfound

Jack Manifold

[Andrea’s VOD was deleted due to leaked info, nothing to worry about though!]

---

- Puffy and Foolish work on their fast food restaurant

- After attempting to solve the mystery behind why George was banned on TikTok, Quackity decides that George should build a McDonald’s in Minecraft.

- DreamXD, the god of the server himself, appears to help them. As the owner of the land, he suggests that they renovate the Deal or No Deal house into a McDonalds. He happens to have some very convenient stacks of supplies. 

- They burn down the old house and begin to build. Wendy’s replies on Twitter and Dream ratios them.

- Quackity starts chasing George so he calls for Dream’s help and DreamXD attacks him as Quackity repents for his sins. Quackity logs out and DreamXD builds a pit and they fill it with lava.

- George shouts for Quackity to log in while dramatic music plays. 

Quackity: “Then so be it. So be it! I don’t care! So be it, George! If this is the destiny that I have to face, then I’ll face it with honor, George!”

- He’s known it all along...Quackity is the one who got him banned. Quackity’s the one who got them all banned! Quackity begins to chuckle. George finally put together the pieces.

Quackity: “You have no idea how much power I have, George...and guess what, I have no issues doing it over, and over, and over again.”

- Quackity decides that he’s not going to log in so that he won’t give George the satisfaction of watching him die. DreamXD types a suggestion to ban Quackity in chat.

George: “I have Dream on my side! DreamXD, he is the god of the Dream SMP server! He will RUIN you! He will delete you from the lore!”

Quackity: “DreamXD...you think gods scare me, George? Gods don’t scare me, George, they don’t.”

- Bad falls into the pit and has to get out.

George: “He’s quacked!”

Quackity: “I’m gonna walk out the door with honor, George, and I’m never giving you the satisfaction of watching me die.”

- Suddenly, DreamXD hits George into the pit of fire, revealing that he’s been with Wendy’s this entire time! George perishes in the fire as Quackity taunts him. 

Quackity: “LOOK AT YOU! Look at you fall into despair and death, thinking you’re one step above, but you have no one on your side, George. Nobody...nobody is on your side. Nobody has ever been on your side, George. That’s the funny part! That’s the funny part. Your little moments, your little moments where you think you have any sort of power...they’re just amusing, George. They’re so amusing to me. Have you realized it yet? Have you realized how you hold no power, ever, at all? Take this to the grave, George...you’re nobody.”

- DreamXD tells Quackity it’s clear to log on, but Quackity still doesn’t die. DreamXD then says that it was all an attempt to trick Quackity into logging in and calls for George to log back on.

DreamXD: “I was never with him, George...I’ve been by your side since the beginning, George...I promise.”

- They walk back to McDonald’s. DreamXD assures George that Quackity will pay for this. He murders Bad to cheer George up. DreamXD also makes George a server operator for a short moment.

- George runs back, shouting at Quackity to log in. Quackity replies that as long as he’s outside of George’s realm, they have no power over him. The instant he logs in, they have control. He won’t give them that satisfaction.

- George threatens to canonically ban Quackity for eternity. Bad warns him of the mark this might make on his soul. George presses enter...and it doesn’t work. 

Quackity: (laughing) “George...you really thought you had the power! You really thought you could do anything to me! George, you can’t! You can’t do anything to me! Not now, not ever, not as long as I live, George.”

“Long live Quackity, George...I never die.”

- Quackity announces that he will be building a salad store right across the street from George’s store, and there’s nothing George can do about it!

- quackitynumber2 joins the game. George tells him that if he sacrifices himself to the lava, he’ll forgive him. Quackitynumber2 does just that. They rescue real Quackity from the lava.

- DreamXD takes George to the Oogway Shrine to “pray.” 

- Sapnap comes on, very confused. They continue to ratio Wendy’s.

- Jack preps for his date. Foolish gives him a pep talk, then Wilbur briefly joins to ask if Andrea’s there yet. Antfrost arrives in a maid outfit.

- Andrea eventually comes onto the server. She dies once and Sam declares it canon. Sam gives Jack gifts for the date at Spawn.

- Jack and Andrea ride around in a boat a bit. The date continues as Antfrost and Sam work as diligent wingmen.

- Sam turns Jack into the waterman and shouts about Dreamons as he attacks. Jack runs away and waits for the invisibility to wear off while Sam, Punz and the others show Andrea Egg propaganda.

- Sam says they can see the Egg soon! Punz remarks that the Egg is nice. Jack freaks out when he hears about this and runs over, eager to stop Andrea from being mind-controlled.

- Jack makes it to Puffy’s McDonald’s and reunites with Andrea. 

- They continue to walk around, near the Eggpire meeting room. Sam greets them there, leads the two into the egg building and tells Andrea to stand in the center. Jack and Andrea jump down into the Egg Room.

Sam: Break it Andrea. Save the server. Do it.

- Jack warns her against breaking the blocks. Andrea jumps down from the Egg and looks at it.

Sam: DO YOU WANT TO BE A HERO??

Andrea: SIR

Andrea: MR AWESOME DUDE

Sam: Yes?

Andrea: HAVE YOU EVER SEEN AN EGG

Andrea: THAT IS NOT AN EGG

- She says this reminds her of health education classes. A fun way to teach people about the reproductive system. Sam tells her to break the Egg again.

- Sam tells her they need to break the Egg to leave, but Andrea dies by lava instead. Jack warns her that she only has one canon life left.

- Jack struggles to swim back up to the surface through the chute. Sam tells Andrea that he doesn’t see her surviving the night.

- Jack makes it to the surface and tries to get back to Andrea. Meanwhile, Sam tells Andrea that he’s way richer than Jack is. 

- Jack meets Andrea and Sam at Lemon City. Sam gets Andrea a horse. They decide to do a race. Andrea proposes that they sacrifice the loser. Foolish accuses Sam of cheating on Ponk.

- Ponk comes online.

Jack: Hi Fonk

Sam: LETS RACE

Ponk: Shut up home wrecker

WilburSoot joined the game.

- They make a call for all the racers. Wilbur joins and asks Jack for a few words in private.

- Once alone, Wilbur urges Jack to get out of there. This is not going well, he says. Jack insists that everything’s going fine! Wilbur tells Jack that Andrea asked him to serenade her.

- Jack points out that Wilbur did this last time. Wilbur tells him that was just him being a silly quirky goofster. This is him being real.Wilbur tells Jack to trust him.

Wilbur: “I have a plan...basically, you’re doing a race, right? What’s the worst thing that can happen during a race, you may be asking? I’ll tell you what:

“Wilbur Soot has a heart attack and dies.”

- The plan goes as follows: they start the race, Wilbur has a heart attack and dies, and in his last dying breath, he asks Andrea to tell the truth.

- The two rejoin the call with the plan in mind and meet at the Community House with Sam to begin the race.

Wilbur: “I sure hope my arteries will hold up!”

- The race begins! Jack, Andrea and Sam all start running, Andrea still on horseback. Wilbur calls out that his chest is hurting and Jack turns around to run back to him.

- With his last dying breath, Wilbur says to Andrea that she should tell Jack what she said to Wilbur. He then dies before they can perform CPR. Sam points out that Wilbur Soot is not the type to waste his last words. Andrea replies that they were going to sacrifice him anyway.

- Jack has the messages from Wilbur.

Sam: “Can you read those to us please? I wanna imagine that he wrote them about me.”

Jack: “Okay, he said -- you’re gonna struggle, it has my name in it.”

Sam: “Well, just, when you read your name, just say ‘Sam’ instead.

Jack: “Okay, he says, ‘I want to date Sam. That sounds fucking brilliant.’”

Sam: “Wilbur said that about me?! Oh my god, I have chills. I literally have chills right now. I got ghost bumpies.”

- Andrea asks what’s going on between Jack and Wilbur, and questions whether Jack is really in love with her. She decides to run away.

- Sam shows her the prison he built and brags that he’s the warden. Andrea’s horse explodes. Sam asks if they should lock Jack up, and Andrea says they should.

- After Andrea sings “My Humps,” Sam rapidly comes to the conclusion that he no longer wants anything to do with this date. 

- Jack and Andrea’s date continues as he leads her to the restaurant he made. 

- Afterwards, they go back to the mainland and Andrea sees L’manhole. Jack explains that this is where L’manberg was destroyed, and he fell into Hell. Andrea remarks that there used to be a sign here that said “I <3 Andrea” that now says “You </3 Little Penis” instead.

- They sail out into the ocean together. 

- Afterwards, Jack brings her to Foolish’s Temple of Undying. Jack says he’ll see her on their next date, if he’s still alive by then.

- Andrea leaves, and Sam speaks with Jack alone.

---

Upcoming events remain the same.

[inadaydream99]

The One Where You Can’t Be Kept Apart

A/N - Thank you 🥕anon for sending in this request and another brilliant idea! I really hope you enjoy what I have come up with ☺️ Also, I was unsure with how to end it, so it took me a little longer to write than usual 😂

Disclaimer: This is inspired by the Friends episode ‘The One With the Memorial Service’ and is in no way my own original idea. I have also used some direct quotes from the episode for the purpose of keeping some fidelity towards the plot.

You huff, folding your arms across your chest as Soobin begins to interrogate you. He’s only been at yours for a few minutes and you’re already tired of him. You get that he’s trying to look out for you and do as you asked of him; which he’s taking incredibly seriously. But is it really necessary for him to pay you a visit sporadically, just to see if he can catch you out?

It’s like he doesn’t trust you. Not that you blame him really, I mean you’ve just broken up with the love of your life, Yeonjun, and asked Soobin to make sure you don’t have any contact with him because you don’t trust yourself to keep away. But just because you have very little self control when it comes to Yeonjun, doesn’t mean that you need to be watched so often.

It’s been about two weeks since you and Yeonjun broke up after being happily together for just over a year. The reason being that you both realised you wanted different things for your future. Things that, even after much debate, neither of you were willing to compromise on.

It had always been your dream to fall in love with your soulmate and get married. Ever since you were little you’d indulge in your fantasy and act out these magical weddings with your friends. You, of course, always played the bride.

Now, Yeonjun has never been opposed to the idea of marriage. He just doesn’t see the point in having this big, expensive wedding. In his opinion it’s a waste of time and money. He would just be happy to elope.

And that’s the main issue that broke you up. You’d been so distraught over the idea of not having the wedding of your dreams, and Yeonjun stubborn in his views, that you’d come to the agreement that if you can’t agree on this then you’re not meant for each other.

From the second he received the news from you crying down the phone, Soobin had barely left your side. He’s been the most amazing friend to you and done everything he can to help you through this break up. And that’s exactly why you feel guilty for finding him annoying right now.

“I know you’re hiding something (Y/N).” Soobin mumbles, more so to himself than to you, but you hear him clearly none the less. “Who’s shoes are these?” He suddenly quizzes you, holding up a pair of dirty black trainers. Ok, so they aren’t the most fashionable shoes ever, but they are comfy and you have lost any motivation to put effort into your appearance right now. All you can seem to focus on is your heartbreak.

“They’re mine.” You deadpan, your sensitivity making it difficult to not be offended. And Soobin really should have known better because if he’d taken a second longer to look at the shoes he’d realise that they are too small to belong to Yeonjun.

“Oh, sorry.” He utters softly, placing the shoes neatly by the front door once again. You watch as he snoops his way around your apartment, in and out of rooms unsatisfied with his lack of finding anything.

That is, until a knock on your front door sounds. You casually make a stand from the sofa where you had previously been slouched, still sulking over Soobin’s insult over your shoes.

“Wait! I’ll get it.” Soobin calls out to you, hurrying past you. He practically pushes you away from the door; not that he intends to, he’s just oblivious to his actions in the moment.

“It’s just the takeout I ordered.” You sigh, throwing your hands up defensively.

Soobin shoots you a frown before turning the handle and swinging the door open.

“Oh my, what are the chances!” You pretend to be shocked, hands flying up to cover your mouth upon the disappointed look Soobin sends you when the door reveals Yeonjun. “7 billion people in the world and they send Yeonjun to deliver my food!” You continue, hoping that you sound believable enough. Though it’s unlikely with the way your best friend has been doubting you from the very second you asked him to help you keep away from Yeonjun.

Soobin simply rolls his eyes at your terrible acting, turning expectantly to look at Yeonjun for an explanation to his presence.

“I’m sorry, but when (Y/N) called I just couldn’t keep away.” His head hangs low, ashamed of his weakness for you… and for getting caught.

“How’d you even call him?” Soobin gawks at you, seriously confused as to how you found a way to contact Yeonjun without having access to a phone. Yes, Soobin had confiscated it first chance he got. But you have to admit that the time away from your phone has been quite nice.

“FaceTime on IPad.” You mumble sulkily, reluctantly admitting how you’d managed to go behind Soobin’s back. You’d hidden it from him so your parents could at least contact you if they needed… or so you’d convinced yourself.

“iPad, of course! I should have known.” Soobin shakes his head, scolding himself for not having realised sooner.

“Soobin, if (Y/N) and I want to see each other, then we should be allow-”

“This doesn’t concern you Yeonjun.” Soobin interjects Yeonjun’s justification. It’s not that he wants to be rude to Yeonjun, or that he doesn’t like him, it’s just that if he allows this then he’s failed at being a good, supportive friend to you.

“Oh really, maybe I was confused considering the mention of my name.” Yeonjun sasses back. “What I was saying was, why can’t we be friends?” Yeonjun, determined to finish what he wants to say, continues. You notice he doesn’t look at Soobin as he speaks, only you. And the pleading look he sends your way makes you melt.

“I guess there’s no harm in that.” You shrug, trying to not show your true emotions as you observe the wide smile that spreads out across Yeonjun’s face. You really had missed his smile so much.

“Well ok then. If you’re just hanging out as friends then I can join, cause I’m your friend and Yeonjun’s friend too.” Soobin announces and you stifle your laughter when you notice Yeonjun grimace at being called Soobin’s friend.

“I guess.” Yeonjun mumbles reluctantly as he is finally able to enter your apartment properly.

The three of you sit on the sofa, Soobin forcing himself in the small space between you. It’s awkward. No one knowing what to say first to break the silence.

“So how have you been?” Yeonjun is the first to speak, leaning around Soobin to see you.

“I’ve been good, thanks.” Soobin answers as you open your mouth to speak.

“And you?” Yeonjun chuckles now beginning to find Soobin amusing. His gaze is focused intently onto you, eager to finally talk properly with you after so long apart.

“I’ve been better.” You force a small smile.

When you’d initially contacted Yeonjun and invited him over, you’d been so desperate that you hadn’t given it any thought as to how you might feel when he’s actually here. It’s a lot more difficult to see him than you expected, and you know it’s just your overwhelming emotions talking, but you’re still in love with him.

Despite wanting nothing but to cave in and get back with Yeonjun, you remain strong and fight the urge. You don’t want the same things as each other. And the more you remind yourself of that, the more you are able to convince yourself that breaking up was the right thing for the both of you.

“I’ve missed you.” Yeonjun admits. You stare into his longing gaze, your heart racing as you see the sincerity pouring out of him.

“I’ve missed you too.” You whisper, not trusting your voice. You can feel your eyes well up as the words tumble from your lips without thought. Although, it’s true, you really have missed him with all your heart.

“You know, on my way over here I saw a pigeon throw up and then a rat ate it.” Soobin quickly jumps in and changes the moment as soon as he senses the mood getting too serious.

“I still think about you everyday. I mean it’s kinda hard not to when everything reminds me of you.” Yeonjun chooses to ignore Soobin’s obvious attempt at stopping your conversation.

You aren’t sure how to respond to him, so overwhelmed that you feel like the room is spinning.

“Ok, I’m gonna head to the bathroom.” Soobin stands from the sofa. “But I’ll be quick so don’t try anything.” He warns, waving his pointed finger between the both of you before he leaves.

“Look, I’m not going to ask to get back together because I know we want different things.” Yeonjun takes the opportunity to finally say what he’s wanted to say the whole time. “But just to be with you one more night…”

“I want that too, but isn’t that gonna make it too hard?” You try to reason.

“It can’t be any harder than the last few weeks…” And yet, Yeonjun’s words seem to make more sense than you’d like.

“If I’d known the last time I saw you would be the last time, I would have stopped to memorise your face, the way you moved. Everything about you. If I had know the last time I kissed you would be the last time, I never would have stopped.” You’re left speechless by Yeonjun’s confession. Seemingly frozen in shock, your mind blank of all thoughts.

“Kiss him, you fool!” Soobin jolts you out of your daze as he rushes back in to the room.

“Huh?” You scrunch your brows in confusion at your friend. He’s done a complete 180 flip after hearing Yeonjun’s speech.

“Didn’t you hear him? If you don’t kiss him, I will.” You stare at him in shock. This has got to be some sort of test, right?

Except Soobin’s expression is completely serious. You cast several quick glances between Soobin and Yeonjun, observing how the latter sends you an almost pleading look, probably silently begging you to not let Soobin kiss him.

Soobin must be serious about telling you to kiss Yeonjun, because he’s willingly encouraging you. And that’s what finally makes you give in, instantly closing the space between you and Yeonjun, your lips moulding perfectly together in a passionate kiss.

You both pull apart breathless, gazing deeply into each other’s eyes.

“I knew you’d be here!” You jolt apart when the door swings open and slams against the wall.

“Who is this?” Soobin questions, confusion clouding his features.

“It’s my friend Beomgyu.” Yeonjun sighs. “I asked him to keep me away from you.” Yeonjun directs the last part towards you.

You simply giggle at him, half still elated from your kiss, the other in amusement.

“Hey, I’m doing that for (Y/N).” Soobin beams.

“Well you’re not doing a very good job. What’s with all the kissing!” Beomgyu sasses back.

You cast your gaze back to Yeonjun when Soobin and Beomgyu begin bickering back and forth, too invested in their arguing to pay attention to either of you.

“Want to get out of here?” You whisper to him, wide grin on your face when he nods and grabs your hand; both of you sneaking out without being noticed and quickly rushing away to make up for lost time.

“Hey, where’d they go?” Soobin suddenly notices you’re missing.

“Ugh, we blew it.” Beomgyu grumpily mutters, defeatedly throwing his hands in the air.

“I blame myself.” Soobin shakes his head in disappointment.

“I blame you too.” Soobin sends Beomgyu a glare in response.

[writingsfromhome]

Crystal Clear

A/N: Here’s some fluff, friends to lovers I’ve had going on while I work on something bigger :))

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

“Y/N,” a strange man calls my name. I look him up and down but I don’t think I know him.

“Who’s asking?”

“Y/N, it’s me? Harry.”

“Oh,” I laugh and greet him how I would have if I’d recognized him under all those layers, in a great big hug. “Your disguise is brilliant!”

“It’s not a disguise,” he says into his coat. “It’s bloody cold here.”

“Coldest day so far,” I accept the hot chocolate from the vendor and ask him for another, Harry could use one, poor thing. His plans this week were changed last minute, and since he was in New York City where his best childhood friend lived, he decided to actually hang out with me. Ever since he got famous, it was hard to catch time with him.

“Did the cold freeze all the English out of you? You’re not even wearing mittens,” Harry accepts his own cup from the vendor.

“I’m got them in my pocket,” I point to the bulge on the side of my coat as we step aside and make our way deeper into the winter festival that was at Bryant Park. “Don’t insult me, I can still make a better cup of tea than you ever could.”

“There she is,” I hear the smile in Harry’s voice more than I see it. It truly was ridiculous--not only was he wearing the thickest parka I’d ever seen, he also had on a beanie and a scarf, as well as knit gloves that held tightly to his hot chocolate.

“I’m always here, you’re just too busy to see me.”

“Not this again,” he groans. I was always giving him grief every time he touched down to NYC but didn’t pop by for a visit. I knew he had a hectic schedule, and even though I wasn’t that bothered I still liked to tease him.

“It’s true, you come to the city so often but I see you once a year. And maybe again when I’m in London if I get lucky.”

“I’m busy Y/N, I talk to you all the time!”

“I know,” I elbow him. “I just like to rile you up.”

“Well now that you’ve got that out of your system,” he tugs my hat over my eyes. “Where are we going next?”

I push it back up, “I thought we could just wander the shops, then get on the skating rink if you’re not frozen to death.”

“Alright I’ve got to pick some gifts up anyway let’s see what’s here.”

We make a good team as we visit stands selling ornaments and kitschy decor, handmade gifts, and hot cider. We sift through exactly what we might want, or what the other’s looking for. And with the light dusting of snow coming down, and the bright lights strung around the Park, it was like walking in a Christmas movie.

“Look at this,” I point ahead. We’d nearly visited all the stands and holiday shops but a festive psychic advertises their services in a small glass booth. “Should we?”

“It’s a waste of money,” Harry scoffs. “She’s just going to read your body language.”

“She might be the real deal-”

“You can’t be serious-”

“C’mon!” I tug his gloves hand and it takes a few but he stumbles towards me. It’s slightly warmer inside and I notice the space heater running in the corner. “At least it’s warm” I whisper to Harry.

“You really want to do this?” He asks one last time.

“It’s just $10-”

“$20 for the two,” the woman almost shifts out of the wall and I hide my jump with a laugh. There’s a curtain behind her, I realize, she must have stepped out.

“It’s just me,” I clarify.

She eyes Harry and Harry eyes her back. “You look familiar.”

“Just have that face,” he shrugs, burrowing into his scarf. “I’m just here to watch.”

She stares at him a moment longer before settling at the small table. I flash Harry a smile before sitting down myself, setting my bags onto the floor.

“Palm reading, cards, what will it be dear?” The psychic asks. I remember the sign out front said cards would be more than having my palm read so I opt for the cheaper option.

“Hm,” she says thoughtfully as she traces the lines on my palm. I wriggle my eyebrows at Harry and he rolls his eyes, but he stays watching her like a hawk. It was cute how overprotective he got sometimes. The psychic glances up to catch him watching her, she then glances at me and tilts her head.

“I see longevity, in life and love, a few bumps but you’re a strong persistent woman.”

Harry grumbles behind me and I resist the urge to say something to him.

“I see success after hard, hard work. But a big success that will change the course of your career.”

“Wow, how soon?” I ask.

“Mmm, after a big milestone. Turning 30?” she continues to examine my hand. “I see a second life later in life, with kids...just one no maybe two children.”

“How about her love life?” Harry asks. “Her last love s’not too nice.”

“Seriously Harry?” I turn to glare this time. He’s grinning with flushed cheeks, knowing it was a sore spot he liked to say i told you so to. It was true, he had told me so about my 3 year relationship but I’d ignored him.

“Your love life,’ the woman speaks up. “Shows me two great loves. One cuts short, the other is as long as your life line.”

“Ooh,” I lean in, interested. “I think I know about the one that was cut short. Tell me about the second!”

“This second...” she traces my palm and I feel a tingle. “This second love is very close, a bit rocky but it will last.”

“A bit rocky?”

“Hm,” she chews her bottom lip. “Time, distance...it will make it rocky. But it lasts.”

“So how close is close?” I ask eagerly.

“Close,” she says with a smile that tells me I wasn’t getting anything else out of her.

“That’s a bit vague isn’t it?” Harry pipes up from the back.

“The future isn’t always crystal clear,” she says without looking up at him.

“Lay off,” I scold him.

“It’s okay, I get nonbelievers all the time.” She laughs. “That will be $10 dear.” When I hand her the bill she stops me as she takes it. “A little free advice?”

“Sure.” I pick up the bags I placed on the floor earlier.

"Don’t be so focused on the life you want that you don’t see the life you have around you.”

“I’ve actually told her that before,” Harry decides we want more of his unsolicited opinions. “Maybe there is something true to all of this.”

“Thanks,” I pocket her words for later. Harry was right, he’d said something along those lines to me before, especially when it came to giving up control and going with the flow on trips and events with him. I always declined his offers, we lived a modest life growing up and accepting these gifts from him always felt so excessive. I wanted to make my own way in the world, but Harry always had something to say. “And sorry for his attitude, he’s not always this rude.”

“Yeah,” Harry shifts forward. “I didn’t mean anything by it, I’m a lot nicer usually.”

“I know,” she smiles.

“She’s psychic,” I remind him.

“I’m also online,” she laughs. “Can I get a picture?”

Harry eyes me, before going in for a selfie with her. I know he usually didn’t mind getting asked in smaller settings but he’d admitted it was something he was still getting used to. It had been a couple years since he became so famous, in such a short amount of time I went from being able to go down to a local pub with my best friend to schedules and security details and a whole other list of complications. Sometimes I hated it, mostly I was happy for him.

“Another day, another fan.” I tell Harry after we walk away from the psychic and he flips me off. “Should we get something to eat and get out of the cold?”

“God yes,” Harry shivers. “Can we just go to yours?”

“Let’s go,” I loop my arm through Harry’s.

Harry wants instant warmth so he hails a cab and we pick up takeout once we reach my neighbourhood. Harry had been here a few times, my roommate had gotten used to the fact that I was best friends with him, and sometimes he preferred to stay here when he wanted to be anonymous. Paparazzi sometimes crowded outside his hotel when word leaked he was there.

We eat ourselves into a food coma and Harry decides to stay the night, not wanting to face the cold again. Since our living room couch sprained his neck the only time he’d slept there, he usually crashed in my bed. His head barely hits the pillow before he’s snoring, I guess the jet lag finally caught up.

***

I jerk out of sleep, a crashing noise followed by swearing catches my attention.

“I think your roommate dropped something,” I hear from beside me. I turn my face to get a facefull of Harry’s thigh tattoos.

“Y’think?” I croak and shift backwards to see his face. He’s sitting up in bed and scrolling through his phone.

“Guess which psychic is officially internet-famous?” Harry asks dryly.

“Hm?” I’m still calming my heart from waking up so suddenly so it takes a moment to register Harry’s words. “What?”

He shoves his phone in my face, the selfie he took with the psychic yesterday is posted on social media with over half a million likes. He swipes away and a lot of his tag is filled with news outlets and fan accounts spamming the picture. He pulls it back to read a heading: “Harry Styles visits Psychic for ideas on his next album. There’s also Harry Styles rumored to be connected to the Occult...I don’t know what that means. Psychic tells all on Harry Styles reading.”

“How did that picture circulate?” I rub my eyes and sit up beside him. “And where is all of this coming from?”

“She has a Twitter, and she posted the picture.” He shows me, it’s there with the caption A handsome face showed up to my booth at the Bryant Park Market tonight. Get your future told, 5pm to 9pm 7 days a week.

I can’t help but laugh, she was a business woman and she really took the opportunity to sell her service.

“It’s not funny Y/N,” Harry looks furious so I cover my mouth and squint at his screen as he scrolls. A ton of people are responding asking about his future or what he came there for. Amongst them, she responds to only one person: His love life was involved.

My jaw drops, “That’s such a lie! She read me my love life, and life lines!”

“I told you she was a fraud,” Harry jerks the phone back to him.

“She lied for sales, but doesn’t mean she didn’t tell the truth yesterday.”

“If she lied about this she lied about it all and you wasted $10. She only talked about your love life, not mine...”

I remember her words, my second love was very close...could she have meant...

I glance at Harry and he seemed to have followed the same train of thought because we lock eyes, his probably just as wide as mine.

“D’you think?” he says just as I say “Was she...?”

We immediately burst out laughing as the tension comes to a head and bubbles over in a safe trickle.

“Is that what she was trying to say?” I say when I’ve finally caught my breath, my stomach hurt from laughing this hard.

“I guess when she said close she meant close,” Harry’s flat on his back from laughing. “Quite literal.”

“And you were calling her out on being so vague.”

“I’ve got to give it to her,” he shuts his phone off and throws it onto the covers between us, releasing the annoyance. “She’s a good businesswoman.”

“I was thinking the same thing but I thought you might kill me if I said that,” I admit.

We lay on the rumpled covers in silence, I think about everything else she said. The potential of it all is tarnished by the idea of Harry being my second love, for life. It was so ridiculous, unless by love she meant the way I love him now. As my best friend. Our lives were so different, there was no way it could ever work. Not to mention...he was my best friend since forever.

“Have you ever thought about it?” Harry asks out of the blue.

“Thought about what?” I prop myself on my elbow.

“Us, like...the way she predicted?”

“Together together?” I can’t help but laugh. “No never, you’re my best friend!” I recognize the flash of hurt so I backtrack a little. “No offense Harry, I love you but could you imagine?”

“I have,” he says it so quietly as I lay back down. “What?” I ask. He shrugs, “I’m surprised you haven’t. We’ve been friends since...we were 7. You’re saying you never thought about it?”

“No,” I shake my head. “Actually I haven’t. When...what did you think about?”

“I dunno,” he fiddles with his rings. “Like for school dances, when I didn’t have a date I thought about asking you as more than a friend...thought about where that could lead. Or every time you had your heart broke. I wanted to take the pain away and just show you what you deserved.”

“Harry I...” it was sweet, what he was saying. But he never gave a single clue about it the entire time we grew up. He was always chasing girls who looked nothing like me, so I always thought that’s what his type was. Never did I think about anything more with him.

“Not-not recently though,” he forces a laugh. “Just when we were kids.”

“That’s sweet Harry. I had no idea.”

He shrugs, and sits up.

“No seriously I...that’s so sweet. But just so you know, you have shown me what a good man can be. Just by being the best friend ever.”

“Aw,” he swipes my cheek as he gets up. “That’s cute. I don’t know if I’ve done such a good job when you’ve only dated knobs.”

I could recognize his defense mechanism--turning it into a big joke. But he leaves the room before I can call him out and I’m left sitting in the mess of what he’d just told me. It’s not that it was awkward or a bad thing, but suddenly it felt tense and the tension triggered an anxious feeling in my chest.

I decide to get out of my room and find my roommate cleaning up the remains of her broken mug. I offer to clean the spill as she dresses to go out for her run. Helping her distracts me, and when I hear Harry leave the bathroom I lock myself in, and try some breathing exercises to clear the anxiety creeping up. When I realize I was trying to avoid Harry, I scold myself. This was ridiculous and funny! Harry wanted to ask me out when we were kids, it was cute, and that was it. The psychic was a fake anyway, nothing she said meant anything.

I head back to my room where Harry’s made the bed. I change into trousers and my favourite fisherman sweater, and find him having coffee at our small kitchen table with his phone on speaker as he talks to someone. His legs barely fit underneath, so they’re sprawled to the side. He’s still shirtless, and my attention snags on his torso.

I shake myself out of my thoughts as I bump into the kitchen island, and glance up to see that although he was talking to the person on the phone, his eyes had been on me...while my eyes were on his abs. Oh god, I cringe. I try to act casual, mouthing if he wanted breakfast but he shakes his head and points to the call he’s having.

I make myself a toast and try to ignore what just happened but it only adds to the tension from this morning. When he gets off his call he brings his cup up to the sink.

“I think I need another cup.”

“Be my guest,” I move aside. “You sure you don’t want breakfast?”

“Are you going to feed me avocado flax seed quinoa toast?” he teases.

“There’s no quinoa.” I correct, crossing my arms. “But...yes.”

“I’ll take this banana,” he holds the lone banana on the counter. “I’ve got to be in East Harlem by noon, that’s what the call was about.”

“Aw,” I hated saying goodbye. “Are you busy the rest of your stay?”

“I can make it back here,” he says.

“Do whatever you need to do,” I say. “I’m used to being discarded after you hang out with me in the city.”

“I don’t do that!” he reaches behind me to slot his cup in and set the machine to grind his beans. I can smell my shampoo on him, he must’ve showered. “If you want me back, you can just say that.”

The morning sunlight streaming through the kitchen window leaves no room for shadows; the shift in the mood is clear as the daylight streaming in. Or maybe I was reading too much into his words.

“I always want you back,” I look up to his height now that he’s standing so close, and the kitchen tightens further.

We’re stuck in a tableau; with my back against the fridge looking up at him as he gazes down with a curious expression. My mind grows blank the longer I stare. No one says a word, the sound of beans grinding the only noise in the kitchen.

My best friend in the whole world looks torn standing in front of me like this, and as my senses slowly rush back I realize that even if my expression doesn’t show it...I was torn. Because out of nowhere, all I can think about are all the questions I ever shoved away in the dark: what would it feel like if I kissed him right now? And what would have happened to us if he had asked me out to our school dance? Would we still be best friends? Would we have cut each other out? How many universes were we still good together like this? How many universes were we good together as more than this?

An urge to touch his face, make sure this was real, takes over me. But as soon as my fingers brush his cheek he snaps out of his trance and stumbles back like I’d burned him.

He forces a laugh. “I really do need that coffee.”

“Right,” I turn to the machine to put the grinds into their slot but I yank too hard and the freshly ground coffee flies out towards me. “Shit!”

“What happ-” Harry takes one look at what’s happened and turns away, his shoulders shaking.

“I can see you right in front of me laughing!” I shout. “Help me!”

“It’s all over you Y/N,” he turns around, tears in his eyes. “Give me this, I’ll put it far away from you.” He takes the remaining grinds and sets it down. I brush away what’s closest to my eyes so I can see and try to shake it off my sweater but they stick to the fibers of the knit.

“Great,” I grumble. “This is dry clean only.”

“It’s in your hair,” he runs his fingers through the strands that hang over my shoulder. I shake my head to dislodge the grinds; his fingers brush my neck away and tucks my hair behind my ear. “Uhm, that should be most of it.”

“It’s not out of this sweater,” I pout. “Screw dry clean, why did I think I could buy dry cleaning clothes?”

“I can drop it off on the way out today?” he offers.

“That means you’re coming back to drop it off to me?!” I ask hopefully.

His expression softens, “Y/N I’m coming back to your flat. I promise.”

“He promises!” I shout. Even though things were a bit awkward this morning, I got to spend more time with my hard-to-catch best friend and for that I was over the moon.

“We could also try to vacuum the sweater?” Harry suggests.

“So you don’t have to come back with dry clean?” I tease. “I’m not letting you get out of your promise, let me give it to you before you change your mind.” I tug my top off and ball it up, shoving it in his hands. It falls to the floor when he doesn’t hold it.

“Hello?” I look up and he’s a deer in the headlights. “Harry...”

“I can’t do this right now,” he takes a step back. I get the sweater from the ground and hold it out to him again.

“Do you want to wipe the kitchen floor with the sweater too? Take it!” I sigh. “Harry are you really acting so chaste about seeing a girl in her bra?”

“It’s-” he decides to stop mid-word. “You’re not just any girl Y/N, I’ve already made it clear.”

Now it’s my turn to stare--he hadn’t made it clear. “You said you only felt something when you were younger...”

“And you believed me?”

I realize I didn’t, but I wanted to believe him so I hadn’t questioned it. “Well it’s not the first time you’ve seen me in a bra. Can you take the damn sweater?” 

“Yeah I can I’m just...” he seems to calm down a bit, enough to step towards me and take it. “I didn’t have to face this conflicted feeling in me if I didn’t see you often. I can just be the best friend. But now, with the whole psychic thing and you in--like this in your kitchen and I--I’m remembering how much I just want to...”

“Kiss me,” I say.

“Yeah...” he looks away.

“No, I’m telling you to kiss me.” I clarify. His expression would’ve made me laugh if my heart wasn’t beating so fast. I couldn’t believe I was being this impulsive.

“Really? You’re not just saying that cuz of this morning?”

“Fine,” I step out of his reach and cross my arms to hide my shaking hands. “If you don’t want to kiss me-”

He pulls me back too quickly and I bump into his chest. “I never said that.” He says in a tone I’d never heard from him before, it’s serious and sexy and it sends tingles through my body. I press myself up against him and he finally, finally, kisses me. Every bit of tension and anxiety the day had built up releases in the single moment his lips cover mine.

How had I waited this long?

The kiss is gentle, delicate like he’s still not entirely sure I want the same thing he does. I show him I do by using my tongue to open his mouth slowly and the hesitation disappears immediately. We’re a fighter jet taking off from there; I don’t know where I end and where he begins as he walks me to the kitchen island and lifts me onto it, our limbs tangling together, His hands roam down the side of my body, but he stays in the safe zones until I unclasp my bra.

“Oh hell no,” my roommate’s voice interrupts us from behind. I hold my bra close and turn. She stands at the entryway, shaking her head. “Not here. Not on our kitchen island. You two have a room literally 10 feet away...”

“Oops,” I say quietly which seems to set Harry off. My roommate is still shaking her head but I see the smile on her face. I’d caught her hooking up on multiple occasions so it wasn’t anything new. But I didn’t do this often. I jump down, apologizing to her. “Harry’s going to clean the coffee off the floor...I-I’ll find a shirt.”

“Mhm,” she closes her bedroom door and I look over at Harry who’s crouching on the floor in tears.

“This is all your fault!” I whisper but he tugs me down to where he is and holds my face as he kisses me.

“I know you two aren’t behind the island,” my roommate’s voice comes out again. I stay there as her footsteps move to the bathroom and the door closes behind her.

“I hate you,” I skirt out of his reach, and rush to my room yelling another sorry as I head back and find a top. Harry appears in my room as I put it on.

“I guess that was a good time for her to walk in on before it got too far?” he still has a stupid grin on his face.

“I don’t even want to think about it,” my cheeks were burning and even more so that Harry was elated.

“I’ve actually got to head out now.”

I pout but he kisses my pout instead. He promises he’ll be back in the evening and I let him go with one more kiss, my mind catching up with everything that just happened.

Oh my god.

***

It’s nearly 8 by the time I’m done running all my errands--taking holidays off for work was usually a good decision for me. I had a big family and picking up all the holiday bits before I flew back home was always a big job. I take an Uber home, I couldn’t handle a 40 minutes trip back home carrying everything home on the subway.

I call out to my roommate when I get in but she doesn’t respond. I check her door and it’s open and dark, the bathroom is also empty. She must have evening plans.

I open my door to a surprise. Harry is sprawled on my bed. He jerks awake when I settle my bags down.

“Y/N?” he squints as I turn the light on.

“How did you get in here?” I shrug my coat off.

“Y’roommate let me in before she left,” he rubs his eyes. “Didn’t mean to fall asleep...I had a whole thing planned.”

I’d gone over the whole morning during my errands, surprised and excited and nervous about this new step for us. But I continued to think about what the psychic said, our love lines extended alongside my life line. Even though there wasn’t much comfort or trust in a psychic who used a photo opp as a marketing opp, what she said had come true. And I put my faith in that, calming my nerves about this new step potentially ruining our friendship forever.

“Was that okay?” Harry sits up. “She didn’t think you’d mind.”

“Oh no that’s fine,” I unwrap my scarf and stand at the foot of my bed. “I really wasn’t sure if you were coming back.”

“Of course I would,” he reaches for my hand. “I wouldn’t leave you after this morning, I’m not that flighty.”

“Well we never really got to talk about it,” I say as I sit down. I’d texted him during the day but it never showed he read it, I wasn’t sure how to read into that; finding him passed out on my room meant he was probably on the go all day.

“Are you okay with this?” he says with such concern, I nearly tear up. This was making me way too emotional.

“I am,” I smile at my best friend in the whole world. “I just don’t want to go too fast.”

“We won’t,” he promises as he holds his arms out. I lean in towards his solid chest and he wraps his arms around me. I feel his breath on my cheek, then his lips in my hair. “I’m yours for eternity Y/N, we can take it as slow or fast as you want.”

It was a good thing to say, and I believe him entirely.

We eventually untangle ourselves to get food in us, and even though things are different, they’re also not. We still pick out the same parts of our food to give the other person, we still talk the same shit and laugh at the same jokes. But his hands grasps mine and his thumb brushes over my knuckles absentmindedly. His eyes stay steady on me as I talk like I’m someone new he’s exploring. We kiss after dinner, but we also load the dishwasher and laugh about the one time I’d managed to burn soup from a can. Eventually we end in my bedroom, where we lay together, our conversation growing quieter by the minute, the space between us growing smaller.

And even though we’d slept like this a hundred times before, it’s different now. I can feel it in every atom of my being, I was his and he was mine. And I don’t know how long it’s been like this for it to feel so easy, but accepting it was a no brainer, like accepting the sky was blue or the sun was hot. I remember the advice the psychic gave, I was following it: living the life I had around me even though it wasn’t the life I thought I would have.

There were a million things Harry and I had to figure out to make this work--I knew it wasn’t going to be easy. But I did know that it was right, it was true, and it was going to be forever.

The future may not be crystal clear, but my future with this man was.

[startanewdream]

Hello over here! Really very good everything you write. Do you think you could do something about a Ginny and Sirius moment? People often forget about their union

Hi, Anon! 🤗 I'm glad you enjoy these stories of mine!

There are lot of lovely stories about Ginny and Sirius talking at Grimmauld Place, so I went for an idea I had for a while but I couldn’t develop much (I’ll post the WIP-without-progress about it too), that is a Sirius Lives AU, in which, unlike what I thought James and Lily would do, Sirius would never wait patiently until Harry and Ginny get together.

So please enjoy this drabble of Sirius meddling with Harry’s (and Ginny’s) lovelife as the good godfather he is.

(Warning for some mild swearing).

Something else

There is an almost business-like expression on Sirius’ face as he sits in the empty space next to her. It doesn’t suit him at all, but Ginny’s teasing is lost when she hears the words leaving his mouth:

‘What’s going on between you and my godson?’

She blinks quickly.

‘What?’

‘You and Harry’, he says, indicating the only not-ginger boy in the party, currently talking to the twins.

‘I know Harry is your godson’, Ginny notes, rolling her eyes, purposefully ignoring any implication of Sirius’ words. ‘You don’t have any other’.

‘Only because Moony is being too stubborn these days’, Sirius mumbles to himself. Then he blinks, looking back at her with nothing but determination. ‘Now, stop stalling. You, Harry. Talking to each other all the time. Together everytime I watch. Teasing each other. Laughing. All those sparks flying around you’.

In another time, Ginny would blush madly at the idea of sparks with Harry; damn, she would blush even before talking to him.

But this is not the time she lives in. She has moved on. She can talk to Harry without any hidden purpose behind it.

‘We are just friends’.

He shakes his head.

‘Ron and Hermione are just friends’, he declares. 

Ginny looks away, slightly upset. ‘I know we are not best friends, but I really consider —’

‘No, you misunderstood me. You and Harry, it’s not just friendship — it’s something else’.

She smiles condencendly. ‘I think freedom is messing with your head, Sirius. Harry is just happier this summer, and —’

‘He is happy with you’.

Ginny sighs, not knowing how to answer. There is no denying that Harry is the brightest she had ever seen this summer, with Sirius’ being free at least; even the postponing of their plans to live together had not dimmed his happiness. He had spent most of the days in the Burrow, with Sirius always coming to dinner with him, despite the Order’s meetings or other business he had to conduct in the Ministry.

Harry’s happiness was contagious and overwhelming. Everyone was noticing it, Ginny knows.

But it can’t be because of her. Sure, they had been talking more, enjoying more moments together than they ever had before, but that’s only because they share the same humour (teasing Ron and Hermione, having a laugh about Bill and Fleur, even planning some pranks together), the same love for flying (they wake up before dawn somedays to watch the sun rising from up the sky, or then challenging each other with some trainings or just enjoying a race around the house).

It doesn’t have the hidden meaning Sirius is implying.

‘He is happy. Period’.

‘That he is. But it’s not the same. He looks at you as… as James once looked at Lily’.

Flush comes to her cheek before she can control herself.

‘Sirius!’, she cries, annoyed now. ‘His parents — this is not a joke’.

‘Oh, I am serious’, he assured her, smirking. ‘Harry is oblivious as a door, my poor godson, but he really seems smitten with you’.

Her heart beats faster. Ignoring it (and admonishing herself for this weakness), Ginny shakes her head furiously. ‘I don’t know what you’ve been drinking, but you are barking mad’.

‘I do bark sometimes, but right now, no, I’m pretty sure. Harry is usually very closed with his feelings, but when it comes to you… it’s an open book. James was the same, you know’.

‘No’ she disagrees, forcing herself not to look upset upon remembering it. ‘I’ve seen him with Cho — his first girlfriend? — and he is not like that with me. He was always shy and nervous around her’.

‘But you are not her, are you? And from what Harry told me, they didn’t date, it was just a crush. This — between you and him — is something else. It feels more real’.

‘No, you are wrong, I… I have a boyfriend’.

‘And?’

‘And I am over my crush on Harry!’

‘Are you?’

‘Merlin, you are annoying’, she declares, crossing her arms. 

‘So if he came here to declare his undying love for you, you would not care?’

‘I’m over’, she repeats. ‘I —’

‘Harry!’, Sirius calls him suddenly.

She can’t help it. With all this talk and her treacherous mind easily conjuring the fantasy of Harry kneeling in front of her (eyes shining, slightly out-of-breath, looking at her adoringly), a blush spreads to her cheek as Harry comes running to their side.

It doesn’t help the fact that Harry looks really gorgeous, having grown over the summer, his skin tanned after a short week at the beach with Sirius, and bringing with him the nice scent of his cologne.

‘We are on a discussion here’, Sirius says, ignoring Ginny’s glare. Harry is alternating his gaze between them, but she can’t really meet his eyes — for the first time in a long time. ‘What do you think of Ginny?’

Oh, she is gonna hex him. Sirius will rather face dementors again than her wrath.

Harry blinks, unsure. ‘What do you mean?’

‘How do you feel about her?’

‘Ah —’

‘As a chaser’, Sirius supplies calmly, a smirk on his lips that he doesn’t try to hide.

Harry lets out a breath, seeming suddenly relieved. Sirius winks at Ginny — see what I mean?

Shut up, she blinks back at him.

‘Ginny is great’, Harry declares, drawing her attention to him. He is looking at her, grinning, and it’s hard to resist the urge to smile back. That boy was really made for smiling; the world seems a better place when he does. ‘I’ve never seen anyone flying like you, truly. You’re fast and skilled and if you don’t show up for trials, I will have to come to the Common Room to drag you’.

She lets out a laugh; Harry seems glad with her reaction.

‘Trials? All these compliments and I still have to try out?’

His face reddens and Harry looks embarrassed. ‘I can’t show favouritism’, he whispers.

‘So I’m your favourite?’, she asks before she can’t control herself.

‘You are’, he admits, and now she can’t deny the admiration in his eyes — and something else.

Damn. Sirius is right.

She turns her head, just as Sirius gives one of his barking laughs.

‘Thanks, Harry, that settles our discussion’.

‘What discussion?’

‘Oh, I just needed to prove a point. You know, about how you feel about Ginny’s… quidditch skills’.

‘Why was that in discussion? She is bloody brilliant’.

‘Oh, I know. I am sure you two will have a lot of fun this year in… the Quidditch field’.