#river Phoenix one shot

[bluephoenixgirl]

Daddy Issues

Chris Chambers x Reader

Warnings: Long Intro, Adult Language, Angst, Fluff, Car Accident, Mention of Reader’s Mom’s Death, Depression, Alcoholism, Verbal Abuse, Physical Abuse, Daddy Issues, and Possible Grammar Errors. (Sorry If I Forgot Any!!)

Summary: After the death of Y/N’s mother due to a car accident, her father turned to alcohol due to his depression. The alcohol makes him verbally abuse Y/N. The only person that knows about the abuse is her best friend Chris. Chris is very worried that one day the verbal abuse will turn physical.

Song Inspiration: Daddy Issues By The Neighborhood

Word Count: 1,905

Author’s Note: Hello Everyone! Here is my first Chris Chambers imagine. I know not many people write for River’s character in Stand By Me which was another reason why I wanted to write this! When I watched Stand By Me for the first time I just fell in love with River’s character! This story does have sensitive topics so please read the warnings before you read and definitely listen to the song before reading as well!! Thank you and I hope you all enjoy!

Y/N lives in a small town called Castle Rock. Since it’s a small town everyone that lives there is considered low class people. Y/N comes from a broken home like most kids that live in Castle Rock do.

When she was only five years old her mother died in a car accident. Her father was driving the car, and he lost control of the vehicle which caused him to drive off the road and into a tree. The only injury her father sustained was a broken collarbone. Her father blames himself for his wife’s death. After he recovered from the accident he started to drink heavily.

In the beginning he would just drink beer but as the years went by, he went from beer to hard liquor like Vodka. The beer wasn’t strong enough to take away his pain and the memories of the crash so that’s why he switched up.

Of course, this took a toll on Y/N. Y/N has to not just take care of her drunken father, but she also has to take care of herself as well since her father was always too drunk out of his mind to do anything for her. She can’t even remember the last time she’s seen her father sober.

Since he was always drunk Y/N was forced to do everything around the house. She did all the cleaning and all of the cooking. Her father didn’t eat too much but she always made sure to make extra food just in case. If she didn’t do something the right way her father would verbally abuse her.

Y/N would always tell herself that it wasn’t her father yelling at her, it was just the alcohol but as the years went on, Y/N knows that the alcohol is her father.

The only person that knows about the abuse is her best friend, Chris Chambers. Y/N is apart of a small group of friends that features three other boys named Gordie, Vern, and Teddy. She’s known the boys for about five years now. However, Chris was the first person she met so she’s known him a little bit longer. Yes, all four boys know about the loss of her mom but again the only person that knows about her father’s abuse is Chris.

He found out by accident. One day, Chris went to Y/N’a house to ask her if she wanted to go to the movies with him and the boys. Before he could knock on the door, he heard Y/N’s father screaming at her for not cleaning up a mess that he made in the kitchen. He immediately became worried about her. He always voiced his concern, but she would always tell him that she’s okay since used to the abuse. He tells her that he’s worried that one day her father will get physical with her but again she would tell him that’s she’s okay.

He’s got his own daddy issues; she doesn’t need to put her daddy issues onto him.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

It was a Monday morning when Y/N accidentally slept in later than she’s supposed to. She was running late for school so, she quickly got out of bed and changed out of her pajamas into a fresh pair of clothes. She brushed out her Y/H/C hair and brushed her teeth in the bathroom. She knew she didn’t have time to eat anything for breakfast, so she just slipped on her old pair of sneakers and grabbed her book bag.

As she made her way down the stairs, she heard a loud crash coming from the living room which made her jump. “Fuck!” She heard her father yell out in anger. Y/N let out a sigh and continued her walk down the steps. When she stepped foot into the living room, she saw her dad standing over a broken vase.

“Y/N! Grab the broom and sweep this shit up.” Her father told her in a demanding tone. “Dad, I’m running late for school.” Y/N told him. “I’ll clean it up when I get home.” Y/N added. “NO! FORGET IT!” He screamed at her making her jump yet again. “I’ll fucking do it!” He told her in a snappy tone.

Since he was still wobbly due to the alcohol when he bent over, he lost his balance and stepped on a piece of the broken glass. “OW! FUCKER!” Her father yelled out in pain. “Dad!” Y/N said quickly running over to him. “Get away from me!” Her father snapped at her. “Dad, you’re foot his bleeding. Let me help you.” Y/N told him with concern in her voice. She went to touch his arm, but he slapped her hand away. When she went to touch him again, he grabbed her by her neck and pushed her into the wall.

Y/N let out yelp as her back slammed up against the wall. “I told you to stay the fuck away from me!” Her dad snapped at her. As Y/N’s eyes filled with tears she looked up into the dark gaze in her father’s eyes. “If you picked up this mess like a good little bitch, this wouldn’t have happened.” He told her with harshness in his voice and walked away into the kitchen.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

When her dad went into the kitchen Y/N ran out the front door. As she walked to school, she was able to calm herself down. She made it to school just in time.

As the day went on her back started to really ache. Not only her back collided with wall, the books she had in her book bag jammed into the skin of her back. She was too scared to go into the bathroom and look at her back. She’s hoping that it hurts more than it looks.

Y/N avoided her friends especially Chris. It’s easy to hide the verbal abuse but there’s no way she can hide the pain she was feeling in her back.

When the final bell rang Y/N grabbed all of her books and was the first student out of the classroom. She went to her locker and got her book bag out. She made sure that she had all of the books she needed for the homework she was given and closed her locker. Y/N made her way through the crowded hallway and put the doors of the school.

As Y/N made her way down the sidewalk she was hoping that her father either wasn’t going to be home or was going to be passed out on the couch or in his room.

Y/N continued to walk down the sidewalk she heard a familiar voice call out her name. Y/N let out a sigh since she knew the voice she heard call out her name was Chris. She turned around to look at him. “Where have you been?” Chris asked her. “Gordie and I have been looking for you all day.” Chris added. “Sorry, I have just had a long day. I was running late this morning.” Y/N told him at least telling him part of the truth. “Oh, okay.” Chris said with a nod.

“Are you up to going to the treehouse with the guys and I to play cards?” Chris asked her in a curious tone. Y/N just shook her head no. Chris could sense that something was wrong. “Y/N, are you okay?” Chris asked her with concern in his voice. “I’m fine.” Y/N said in a soft tone.

Chris knew that she was lying since he could tell that she was trying everything she could to not burst down into tears. “Y/N, what’s wrong?” Chris asked her again. Y/N just stayed silent as tears started to form in her eyes. “Did your he hurt you?” Chris asked obviously referring to her dad. “He pushed me into the wall by my neck before I left for school.” Y/N told him as the tears quickly flooded her eyes and started to make their way down her cheeks.

“Where did he hurt you?” Chris asked her, trying to hold in the anger he was feeling. This is what he’s been afraid of. Ever since he found out about Y/N’s abuse from her father, he was scared that he was going to physically harm her. “When he pushed me into the wall, I hit my back on the wall and the books I had in my bag dug into the skin of my back.” Y/N told him. “As the day went on the pain continued to get worse and worse.” Y/N added. “Have you looked at it?” Chris asked her. Y/N shook her head no. “I’m too scared to look.” Y/N told him wiping away some of her tears with the back of her hand.

“You want me to take a look at it? I can take you back to my house.” Chris said looking at her with worry in his eyes. Y/N noticed the worry look in his eyes, so she just gave him a nod. Chris took her hand and walked her down the sidewalk to his house.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

When Chris walked into his house with Y/N behind him of course his dad was passed out on the couch like he always is. Y/N knew to be quiet so when she followed Chris to his room, she made sure to stay very quiet. She followed him into his bedroom. Chris closed the door.

“Go ahead and take off your book bag.” Chris told her. Y/N took off her bag off her back and quietly set it down onto the floor. “I’m going to lift up your shirt to look at your back.” Chris told her walking closer to her. “Okay?” He asked her. “Okay.” Y/N said giving him a nod giving him permission.

Chris lifted her shirt up her shoulder blades. “How does it look?” Y/N asked him with nervousness in her voice. “It’s red but putting some ice on it will help.” Chris told her which made her feel a little relieved. “Go ahead and have a seat on my bed and I’ll go get an ice pack.” Chris told her putting her shirt back down.

Y/N did what he told her to do while he went to go get an ice pack from his kitchen. When Chris came back, he sat down next to her on the end of his bed. “We’ll leave it on for fifteen minutes and see how it looks from there.” Chris told her. Y/N just gave him a nod. He lifted her shirt back up and put the ice pack onto her back. Y/N hissed a little by the coldness of the ice.

“Do you think it will bruise up?” Y/N asked him with worry in her voice. “No, it’ll just be sore for the next couple of days.” Chris reassured her with a small smile on his face as he held the ice pack for her. A couple minutes of silence fell between them. “Chris.” Y/N said breaking the silence. “Yes?” Chris said back to her.

“Thank you for taking care of me.” Y/N told him. “It’s no problem, Y/N.” Chris told her in a reassuring tone. “I’m always here for you.” Chris added which made her lips curve up into a smile.

She turned towards him and gave him a kiss onto his cheek. Y/N rested her head onto his shoulder.

Chris smiled as his cheeks turned a bright red. The boys were right. He is growing a crush on Y/N.

[alizha]

𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝖿𝗅𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 '𝗍𝗂𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝖼𝗋𝗎𝗌𝗁 | 𝗈𝗇𝖾-𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗍

—Poe Dameron x Reader | NSFW

Word Count: 6,969 (nice)

Tags: fem reader, no use of gendered pronouns, 2nd person POV, friends to lovers

CW: explicit sexual content, sex pollen, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex

Summary: Your lives run concurrent to each other for nearly ten years. What's it going to take to break out of the push and pull of your attraction to Poe Dameron?

masterlist | cross posted to ao3

You’re eighteen the first time you ever see Poe Dameron. The way people talk about him, you’d think he was some sort of mythical creature. A manticore or a phoenix, like the one in the stylized New Republic insignia on your sleeve.

Hosnian Prime is a hostile world that you’ve just entered. It’s not scorching and dry or filled with poisonous gas, but it is cold and sterile and filled with ruthless cutthroats. Except they’re really just young people your own age who would do anything to get ahead of the competition in the medical academy. Because you’re all already competing with the surgical droids, diagnostic scanners, and a whole host of medical AIs.

The flight academy is also on Hosnian Prime, and it seems every girl in your year is familiar with the name Poe Dameron.

He’s twenty-one. You can’t even remember the first time you heard his name. Though you get the peculiar feeling that he must have some character flaws that all the secondhand accounts fail to mention in between all that talk about his skills and his looks.

It happens on neither a notable day nor at a notable time. He’s at the river walk with his friends, you’re on a stroll with a group of your fellow medcorps privates.

“That’s him. Poe Dameron,” they whisper. “He’s one of Antilles’ best. Mother was a Rebel hero.”

Your curiosity gets the better of you, and you glance up as you pass him. For a brief moment, you’re looking at Poe Dameron, and he’s looking at you. Then, the moment is gone, and you don’t think about him again for as long as his reputation will let you.

When you graduate from the academy and fully enter the New Republic service, there’s only a handful of your classmates left. The transfer from the academy to the naval base on Hosnian Prime is trying to say the least. Longer hours, smaller rooms, and more noise.

And Poe Dameron is there. He’s twenty-three and you’re twenty. The mess hall cheers when he walks through the doors.

“He’s so impressive, isn’t he?” a former classmate to your left titters. Her mouth forms into a frown when she sees your blank expression. “Come on. He’s just been promoted. Commander of his own squadron.”

“And he’s so young,” another girl adds.

There’s no way of expressing how insignificant any of this is to you without sounding bitter. So, you settle on saying, “Good for him,” in the most neutral tone you can conjure.

When you’re at blaster practice a few days later (because even though you joined the Navy to become a doctor, you’re still expected to learn how to defend yourself), Poe Dameron is at the shooting range. One gallery over with a couple of his pilot buddies. You don’t know who the officer on duty is, but they must be friends with Dameron because no one says anything about the ruckus they’re causing.

You hear their boisterous laughter, snippets of their conversation: “Blasted into oblivion… Flew circles around them… Told ‘em to punch it!” It dulls your concentration and makes you grit your teeth.

Shoulders back, feet apart. Hold the blaster like you’re not letting anyone take it from you. Breathe.

You squeeze the trigger, and in rapid succession, you hit all your targets. The sound of the blaster fire overtakes the hum of their laughter, and the conversation fizzles out. It isn’t until you lower your blaster that you realize the range has finally gone silent.

“Nice shot!” Dameron’s voice breaks the silence.

You turn to look at him, but he’s already scurrying out of the gallery, pulled along by his friends.

The rest of his time at the Hosnian Prime base, the two of you barely speak. There are only occasional nods and brief ‘good mornings’ as you pass each other in the halls. And then, in a month’s time, he’s gone. Deployed to some space station on some important mission. Inconsequentially, life goes on.

Mirrin Prime is your first and only foreign duty station. The last of your classmates are gone—scattered across the galaxy at other New Republic bases or space stations. Luckily, being in the service creates a shared experience that is good for fostering a quick sense of camaraderie.

The medcorps seniors take you under their wing. They show you the ropes, teach you the best places on base to study, and take you to the local hotspots. There’s one bar most of the New Republic service members seem to prefer, tucked away on the basement floor of a building in the seaport district.

Poe Dameron’s squadron has been stationed at Mirrin Prime for over a year already, and you would have had to be living under a rock to not know it. He’s twenty-six, and you’re just about to turn twenty-three.

He’s always been this famed figure, fawned after by all, but now his reputation seems larger than life. The ace pilot, made commander in his early twenties, with somebody different on his arm every week. You scoff, despite yourself.

“What?” Miri asks. “It’s true. He could have practically anyone in this bar.”

“Then, he’s a bigger sleazeball than I thought,” you mutter under your breath. Getting into this with your friend isn’t really something you wanted to do. So, you try to laugh it off. You just don’t understand the fascination.

One night, he’s at the bar at the same time as you, and to your utter bewilderment, he slides into the stool beside you while Miri and Kryscha are getting more drinks. You’re about to tell him the seat is taken when he opens his mouth.

“Lemme guess, they don’t serve swill like this to rich girls like you on whatever Core World planet you’re from.”

His voice is smooth as Corellian whiskey. And paired with that playful look, you almost don’t hear him at all. It’s the first time your eyes and his meet so directly. But after a moment, your brain processes his words. You refuse to let him see you speechless.

“I’m from Taanab.”

One corner of his mouth quirks up. “Close enough. I’m Poe Dameron, by the way.”

“I know who you are.” Then, after a beat, you realize you should reciprocate. “I’m—”

“I know who you are,” he says, interrupting you cheekily. “I remember you from Hosnian Prime.”

When your friends return, grinning from ear to ear at the sight of Poe Dameron at their table, he invites the three of you to join him and his friends. You pass for tonight, but Miri and Kryscha are happy enough to go along with them. You can’t pass forever, though, and when your friends all start to invite you out for the chance to have a drink with Poe Dameron, commander of Rapier Squadron, you start to cave.

That’s how your acquaintance with Poe Dameron begins. More and more each time you meet, you’re convinced all the high praise he receives is just a bunch of hot air. He’s really just a cocky flyboy with a lot of reckless tendencies and dumb luck.

He proves your point a few months later when he’s brought into the medbay after a nasty crash, and you’re the medic on call. You can’t help the way you storm in, heart beating in your throat in anticipation of the chewing out you were planning on giving him.

And no, it’s not because you’re mad at him for inviting Kryscha out on that date last week. It’s not envy you feel swelling in the pit of your stomach. It’s frustration that Poe thinks he’s too good to best, too good to get himself killed.

“Hey, you,” he says weakly when he sees you walk in, and the scolding you prepared dies on your tongue.

You patch him up roughly, tie his bandages on a little too tight. He squirms beneath the undue strength of your hands, even stifles a few groans and covers them up with a chuckle.

“I can’t tell if you’re mad at me or if you’re getting some sort of weird pleasure out of this.”

“Please.” You fix him with your scowl. “Don’t joke about this. You’re lucky you look worse than you actually are.”

“Will my looks be spared, you think?” He hisses as you pat the scrape along his cheekbone with bacta.

“It’s a long shot, but I think they’ll survive.”

That’s the closest you’ve ever come to admitting Poe Dameron is an attractive man. Even now, you’re inches away from his face, his bloodied shirt is discarded somewhere on the floor, and your fingers hover over the musculature of his bared shoulder. All the evidence you need right in front of you, and you still won’t say it outright.

The months roll by, and all the while, the ever-expanding shadow of the First Order looms over the New Republic. Miri is deployed on a diplomatic mission alongside Rapier Squadron and comes back with stories about Poe that sound a little intimate. But you think you’re reading too much into it until Miri starts grabbing drinks after work with Poe alone.

When Poe’s rotation at Mirrin Prime is nearly complete, he’s twenty-eight. You’re twenty-five.

He’s angrier than he used to be. Still flippant, but there’s an undercurrent of unrest in his voice when he speaks up about the New Republic’s leniency toward the First Order. He clenches his jaw and patrols trade lanes in the sector when what he wants is to be daring.

He gets his chance when one of those routine patrols goes sideways. Apparently, his droid picks up a distress call from a hijacked freighter he’s been tracking. Four Rapiers engage. Only three return.

You finally get the holocall you’ve been expecting. Poe Dameron is waiting for you in the medbay. His head got dinged sometime during the engagement over Suraz.

“I was being careful. I promise.”

He says it for your benefit, but it rings like a lie. You gently move aside his dark curls to apply bacta to his stitches.

“So you’re not going to do anything stupid?”

Poe cracks a grin at that, suppressing the wince that results from the coolness of the bacta against his warm scalp. “Now, why would I do that?”

“I don’t know. You tell me.” You’re too tired to think of something witty right now, so you pass that off for him to do.

“Why don’t we make a wager? If I come back alive from whatever it is I’m about to do, you go out for a drink with me.”

Your fingers stiffen up, and you quickly withdraw your hands to your sides. Even when you’re expecting something crazy to come out of his mouth, Poe still manages to surprise you.

“No, thank you.”

You turn to wash your hands and gather your things, and he lets you leave without another word. When you mention the short encounter to your friends at supper, unnerved and quite frankly a little angry that your friend, Poe Dameron, would deign to ask you to have a drink with him, they burst out into uncontrollable laughter. As if nobody in their right mind would relate to how you feel about it.

“Seriously? So, you turned him down then,” Miri asks.

“Of course.”

She shakes her head like you’re being ridiculous. “You don’t have to spare my feelings. It’s not like we were ever anything serious.”

“It’s not that,” you insist.

“Then, what is it?”

You close your mouth with a snap. There’s an answer waiting on your lips, but you’re afraid that it’ll sound like you’re being judgy. You simply do not want to be another person to fall over themselves trying to spend a night with Poe Dameron. Your refusal would likely do little to temper his ego in the long run, but it was really just about the principle of the thing.

When Poe disappears, not long after your conversation in the medbay, you can’t even be surprised. Command is furious. His squadron mates are brought in for questioning.

In the midst of the confusion, you’re sent with a different squadron on a mission to a space station in the mid rim. A hologram message from Miri fills you in. Poe has returned and been detained.

By the time you return from your mission, he’s gone without so much as a note, along with what was left of his squadron. There are rumors he’s joined the splinter group of the New Republic led by General Leia Organa.

It’s not long after your twenty-seventh birthday that you and a few of your fellow medics decide to defect to the Resistance too. You’d heard Poe landed his own command of an entire attack wing in the Resistance.

Sure enough, one of your first missions sees you working with a few pilots from one of his squadrons. He’s just gotten back from one of his own operations and is there to personally brief his men. His lips quirk up at the corners when he spots you approaching.

“This one’s trouble, so keep an eye on her,” he says teasingly. “Make sure everything’s in order before you head out.”

He dismisses the pilots to finish prepping and turns to look you over like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. You bite back the acid that threatens to spew out of your mouth at him for leaving without a word.

“Been a while. How you doing, sweetheart?”

No, he doesn’t get to do that. “I have to go, Dameron. They’re waiting for me.”

You go to shove past, but he stops you with a large hand on your shoulder. Looking at him this close reveals shallow lines of age at the corners of his eyes and the plane of his forehead, eyes sunken in, and a hollowness to his cheeks that you never noticed before. Nearly a decade has slipped by without you even realizing it.

“It’s good to have you on board.” He says it with an authenticity that he reserves for serious occasions, few and far between.

You answer with a nod, and he releases you. He waits and watches from the hangar until your ship makes the jump to hyperspace.

The sound of blaster fire rings in your ears as you sprint through the unfamiliar hangar, an insistent hand on the small of your back pressing you on as you swerve to avoid stacks of cargo and startled droids. You want to turn around and snap at the man the hand is attached to, but the situation you find yourself in is a little too precarious for personal gripes.

“Shouldn’t we go back and help?!” you yell over the twangs of ricocheted shots on metal.

“No time!” Poe says as he ushers you into the cramped cockpit of the light freighter he’d flown you in on. “Besides, we’re the ones they’re after. I need to get you out of here.”

“But—”

The words you were about to speak fade away under the roar of the ship’s engines. You barely have time to throw your bag onto the floor and slip on your headset before Poe launches the ship out of the hangar. He narrowly avoids scraping the ship against the edge of the entrance on the way out.

“Kriff! The only thing I need protecting from out here is you!” you shout, grappling for a hold of something to keep yourself steady as you struggle to strap into your seat. The high-pitched sound of two TIE fighters screeches behind, followed by more blaster fire.

“You sure about that?” he retorts, sending the ship into an evasive dive.

You’re pretty sure Poe stalls for as long as he can to show off a few of his flashy maneuvers to no one in particular, hooting victoriously in his usual self-satisfied manner after each one. Finally, he lines up a shot and takes out both enemy fighters in quick succession.

“Did you see that?!” Poe cries.

You fight the urge to let out a frustrated scream. “We didn’t have time to go back and help, but you somehow had time for that? Honestly, Dameron, just get us the hell out of here!”

“Okay, okay,” he says, finally punching in the proper coordinates to make the jump to hyperspace. Once you’re hurtling through the familiar blue tunnel, you breathe a small sigh of relief and relax the tense muscles of your shoulders.

“Aw, stop your pouting, Doc. We made it out in one piece, didn’t we?”

You narrow your eyes at him. “I wouldn’t call losing an entire shipment of medical supplies a win.”

That purchase had taken weeks to set up and cost the Resistance a not-insignificant sum. Kalonia was gonna kill you.

“It wasn’t worth the risk. You’re more valuable than a bunch of bacta and synthplast,” Poe says.

From anyone else, those words would have sounded like a compliment. But this is Poe Dameron, and taking harebrained risks is almost second nature to him. The unexpectedly charitable comment rolls off you like water off an airtight seal. It takes a lot of restraint to hold in a scoff, but you’ve had plenty of practice.

He’s always been impossible.

“Didn’t you manage to salvage a few things?” Poe jerks his head toward your discarded bag. You’d only had enough time to shove a few handfuls of supplies into it without checking what you were taking once the shooting started.

“A few bandages and some pain medicine? Regardless, we should have gone back and helped,” you mutter, folding your arms across your chest. “Not just for the supplies. We were meant to refuel before heading back.”

“Don’t sulk. It’ll be fine. And I’ll put in a good word with the major for you,” Poe says.

And with that, your self-control falters. You let out a short laugh. As if he were so important that his word would do anything to lessen the failure of your mission.

“No, thank you. I think I’m good,” you bite out at him.

He pauses to scrutinize you pensively. “I honestly thought you were just having a bad day, but you really don’t like me, do you? I can’t believe it’s taken me this long to realize it.”

A bad day, he says. That’s one way to describe it. But his accusation finally catches you off guard and you sputter a bit.

“A-are you sure you’re not just used to getting special treatment from everyone else?”

He shakes his head. “Look, it’s okay. I know I’m not everybody’s cup of tea.” He lapses for a moment, thoughtful, then adds, “I mean, I’m most people’s. But not yours. There’s no accounting for taste, but I respect your opinion.”

You groan quietly and dig the heels of your palms into your eyes. He’s teasing you. Or he isn’t, and he’s disguising a genuine wound behind a glib attitude. Part of you doesn’t wish to know which is true, so you unstrap yourself from your seat and hoist yourself up onto your feet.

“I can never tell if you’re screwing with me,” you mutter as you duck out of the cockpit and shut the door behind you.

You’re not running away. You’re not. You’re just tired and overwrought from this mission. It’s going to be a few hours before the ship reaches D’Qar, so you might as well try to relax. Luckily, there’s a space in the main hull for you to put up your feet. And although you’re not looking for it, you fall expeditiously into an uneasy sleep.

The feeling of the starship lurching out of hyperspace jerks you awake. Even though you’re groggy from your nap, you know it’s too soon for the ship to have reached the Ileenium system already. You stretch out your arms and get to your feet.

“Poe?”

He doesn’t look up at you as you squeeze back into the cockpit. His focus is fixed on the nav computer, brows knitted and his lower lip drawn into a soft bite between his teeth. There’s an ever-growing sinking feeling in your stomach.

“Poe, what’s going on?” you ask carefully.

“We, uh…” He chuckles sheepishly. “We ran out of fuel.”

“What?”

“Now, you don’t have to say ‘I told you so.’ I admit, we should have fueled up before we left.”

“You think?”

Poe finally turns to meet your furious gaze with those big brown eyes of his, exuding innocence. “In my defense, I was trying to save our lives.”

At this point, you’re trying your best not to smack yourself in the forehead in frustration. First, you fail to complete your mission. Now, you were going to need rescuing on top of that.

“Okay, what do we do now? Did you get in touch with the base?” You don’t even know why you’re making such an effort to keep your voice steady and calm.

“Great question,” Poe says in a chipper tone that puts you on edge. “We’re getting picked up by a New Republic patrol. They should be here in just a couple hours.”

Maker, you knew what that meant. It meant the Resistance couldn't spare a ship to pick them up, so they’re letting someone else who was already in the area do the rescuing. And it meant more time than expected spent in close quarters with Poe.

You’re still feeling awkward from earlier. Maybe you should head back to claim the hull for yourself to wait it out alone. You’re just about to do just that when Poe speaks up again suddenly.

“Hey, I don’t suppose I could have some of that medicine? I think I pulled something running away earlier.”

“Whatever.” You wave your hand dismissively and drop back into your chair, staring out into the starry void.

He gets up and shuffles around behind you. “What’s this?”

“What’s what?”

Poe doesn’t answer. It sounds like he’s fiddling with something now, like a stick lid. You let out a beleaguered sigh and turn just in time to see him jimmy the opening of a small canister.

“Wait—,”

It opens with a pop and releases a loud hiss. Although you can’t see anything, the noise is a clear indication that Poe has just released something into the air. Instinct takes over, and you spring up to smack the canister out of his hand. It clatters to the ground, and he gives you a strange look.

“What was that supposed to do?”

“I don’t know!”

“What was even in that thing?”

A thousand scenarios race through your head. It could have been anything. Poe likely inhaled most of whatever came out of that canister. “Do you feel anything?”

He contemplates for a moment, then shakes his head. “I feel normal.”

“Okay, that’s a good sign.”

You get up and walk over to where the canister has rolled against the wall. When you pick it up to inspect the label, you have to rub your eyes to make sure you’re reading it right.

“Uhm… you’ll be okay, Poe. Don’t panic, okay?”

He jumps to his feet. “I do not like the way you just said that. What is it, Doc? Poison? Just tell me.”

You fight against a furious blush. Before you can form an answer, Poe’s eyes widen slightly and his head snaps up to meet your gaze. He may not have felt anything before, but it’s clear the effects have started to take hold now.

“What’s happening to me?” he asks, his voice calm but shaky.

There’s a flush spreading over his face that you’re sure matches yours. Perspiration shines on his temple, and he swallows as his blackening pupils flicker around restlessly. They hone in on your mouth when your tongue darts out to wet your suddenly dry lips.

“Experimental drug. Mostly black market.” You pause to bite your lip anxiously. “Acute aphrodisiac. It was developed to artificially increase populations of an endangered species native to the Tapani sector.”

Poe moans into his hands and rubs his knuckles into his increasingly bloodshot eyes. “Okay, that explains… things.”

Embarrassment burns through you, hot and bright. Not for Poe, but for yourself. Because in spite of yourself, there's a lick of desire that shudders down your spine at the sight of him. You turn abruptly to hide your face. What kind of sick person would react this way to this?

You try to turn your frustration around on him. “Why would you mess around with something when you don’t know what’s inside it?”

Behind you, he lets out a groan that sounds as if it’s been muffled against his fist. If he hears your question, he doesn’t have the patience to respond. “How long is this going to last exactly?”

The answer is too mortifying for you to push out of your throat. You wrap your arms around yourself self-consciously. There’s only one way to make the effects of the drug go away. And if you don’t do it, he’ll be in excruciating pain for hours.

There’s not just the waiting for the New Republic patrol to consider. There’s also the matter of getting towed to the nearest system. And if there’s no one who can treat him there, he’ll have to endure refueling and getting the rest of the way to the Resistance base on D’Qar.

You steel your resolve and try to make your face as neutral as possible when you turn back to him. “You don’t have to be in pain. There is something we can do now to neutralize the drug.”

He laughs weakly through his discomfort, and that makes you raise your eyebrows at him. “You’re not seriously suggesting what I think, are you? That-that’s just crazy. Right? Doc?”

Indignantly, you anchor your hands to your hips and frown. “What is it that you think I’m suggesting?”

Poe is quiet for a moment as if he’s waiting for you to give up a jest. But when you only watch him expectantly, he drops his tight smile and says, “Oh, you are serious. No. No. It’s out of the question.”

“I’m suggesting I help out a friend,” you sigh. “Why is that so unthinkable?”

“By having sex with me?” He shakes his head with a scoff.

His tone grates at your nerves. “Well, thanks for that. I thought you were willing to fuck anything that moves, but I guess I’m the one exception to that rule.”

You storm out of the cockpit and mash the side of your fist against the release to close the door behind you. Poe throws himself through before the door can shut completely and grabs you by the shoulder.

“Wait! No, that’s not—,”

You’re about to send your elbow straight into his gut when he doubles over with a cry. He releases his grip on your shoulder and flails wildly until he gets a hold of the wall, letting out a long groan.

“Dank ferrik,” you mutter as you slide your arm under his. He leans against you as you lead him to the sofa where you’d taken a nap earlier. Even through the fabric of his shirt, his skin feels scorching to the touch.

“You have to believe me. It’s not that you’re not a beautiful woman. Because you are. Beautiful, I mean.”

His voice is thin like he’s not getting enough air. You push him to relax against the backrest with a shush.

“Would you just take it easy? I don’t care about that. You’re only putting yourself in more pain.”

“No.” He takes your arms in his hands to cease your ministrations. “You need to hear me. This isn’t how I want this. It’s all wrong. That’s why I can’t have sex with you.”

His gaze is too direct, too piercing. You have to force yourself not to look away. “W-what?”

“Ideally I’d like to have sex with you because you like me,” he says through a groan. The corners of his eyes crinkle as he bites back his pain. “Not because you feel obligated to sleep with me when I’m on the brink of passing out.”

You sigh and crouch down so you’re at eye-level with him. “Poe. I don’t feel obligated to. I want to help you.”

“Doc, no. Okay? And that’s final.”

He shuts his eyes and sucks in a breath through his teeth. And it’s in that moment that it all hits you.

He’s choosing now to be chivalrous. To absolve you of your guilt for causing the continuation of his pain. But you want no part of that. Carefully, you reach out one hand to cup his stubbled face, and the muscles of his jaw jump beneath your fingers.

“I’m not gonna let you suffer.”

His eyes flutter open in time to watch you lean forward, putting your face millimeters from his. They stare transfixed, first at your eyes, then at your lips.

“It’s always been hard to resist you. But I don’t think I can control myself right now.”

His words shoot straight to your core. You’re practically hovering over his lap now. He clenches his fists at his sides—one last desperate attempt to hold himself back.

“You don’t have to,” you breathe.

Then, everything snaps, and Poe is sitting up straight as a knife, mouth crashing onto yours. He kisses you like a man starved. Desperate, without thought for breath, his hands grabbing at your hair and the nape of your neck.

He swallows every gasp before they can even tumble from your lips, knees parting so he can wrench you flush against his chest. His stubble is merciless on the soft skin of your face, and the small moans he emits between nips compounds the growing ache between your legs.

It’s nice. It’s all way more than nice, but he needs more than this to quell the effects of the drug. You reach down between your bodies and feel around and—

Kriff. The bulge at his crotch is already as hard as durasteel. Poe lets out a whine as you squeeze him through the fabric of his pants.

“Not yet,” he whispers, shoving your hand away.

Before you can protest, he flips you onto your back on the sofa and dips down to capture your lips with his again. His tongue slips past your teeth, drags against the roof of your mouth. The pressure of his fingertips on your neck is bliss. When he moves to press a kiss to your throat, your heart starts to beat rabbit-fast in your chest, breaths coming in short bursts.

Poe claws at your arms, grabs at your chest and hips over your clothes, too far gone to bother removing the layers. Your own hands slide under his shirt and along the damp skin of his back, fascinated by the way his muscles ripple beneath your touch. Driven by need, you shove your face to the crook of his neck and mouth at the cords of his throat. His taste bursts across your tongue.

The moan he releases makes you clench your thighs together, and you realize the sheer amount of slick that’s managed to accumulate at your center. Shame heats your face—you’re getting hopelessly turned on by a drugged-up Poe. You’ve refused to be another notch in his belt for almost a decade.

“Hey, look at me.”

He takes you by the chin and tilts slightly so you’re looking into his eyes. They’re nearly black, but there’s still something warm in them that eases the tension in your shoulders. He’s still Poe. He’s still your friend.

“I’m sorry, okay?” He rocks his hardened length against your thigh, sending a shiver down your spine.

“I’m not.” The words are leaving your mouth before your brain has time to think. They shock him as much as you. For a long moment, all you do is stare at each other, chests heaving. Then, Poe rips the waistband of your pants and underwear down to your knees.

He growls your name into the juncture between your neck and shoulder and dips his index finger into your cunt without preamble. The sudden intrusion makes you lift your back off the sofa, gasping. Another finger joins in, then another, as Poe groans eagerly.

“I’m not sorry,” you pant, hips squirming. “I care about you, Poe.”

“I care about you too. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you.”

His head disappears and suddenly he’s positioning his face between your legs. Hot breath fans across your soaking folds as his fingers continue to fuck you unrelentingly. A shudder runs through you in anticipation.

“I’ve thought about tasting you for years,” he murmurs.

Even now, when he’s hovering over his goal, Poe can’t help but love hearing himself talk. You make a frustrated noise and glance down at him. His eyes make contact with yours just as he flattens his tongue against your clit.

All your thoughts dissipate at the molten hot feel of his mouth. There’s no build up, no softness. Just the firm swirl of his tongue and the slide of his fingers, desperate and frenzied like years of longing are pouring out of him at this very moment.

There’s nothing to hold on to, so you fist your hands above your head as you cant your hips. Poe doesn’t mind your writhing. Seems to savor the way your body reacts to his touch. Perhaps he’s dreamt of how you would look pinned beneath him like this.

Pleasure builds at the base of your spine as he moans into your cunt like your sweetness is everything he’s imagined and more. When he closes his lips around your clit and sucks, a cry finally rips from your throat.

“O-oh! That’s—,”

“You like that?” His voice is so low and husky it reverberates in his chest. Makes you shiver deliciously.

“I need to fuck you now.”

An eagerness forms on his face as you kick your pants off the rest of the way and press your foot into his chest. Obediently, he wraps his fingers around your ankle and straightens, lets you push him down until his back is against the armrest. He flashes you a dark smile as he languidly kisses his way from your ankle to your calf.

“If I’d known you were so keen, I would have done this ages ago.”

“Shut up.” His teasing rips a hole in your pride, but you can’t think of anything more clever to say.

“Yes, Doctor,” he says, winking.

You scoff and make quick work of the closures of his trousers as Poe grips the swell of your hips. He was being way too cocky—you want to smack that smug expression right off his face. The effects of the drug must have been quelled by what the two of you have done so far, but it’s going to take release for him to be cured completely.

With his free hand, Poe reaches past the waistband of his underwear. When he eases out his cock, it’s flushed an angry red and already weeping at the tip. He must be frustrated from the neglect, aching from need. Curiosity compels you to wrap your fingers around his searing thickness, and his mouth falls open with a moan.

A thrill runs through you. He’s beautiful like this. Dark brows drawn together, plush lips parted, and head tipped back to reveal his sharp jaw and exposed throat covered in unshaven shadow. No, he’s always been beautiful. You’ve just always been too stubborn to admit it.

“Please.” His voice comes out like a whine, but a part of you still clings to the idea that his plea is just him indulging you to get what he wants.

Every secret resentment you’ve held against him over the years bubbles to the surface. “I can’t stand you, you smooth-talking, arrogant, laserbrained ass.”

You roll your fist hard over his cock. Poe bites his lower lip to muffle a cry, dazed by the mixture of pleasure and pain.

“You’re gorgeous. I adore you,” he moans, splaying his fingers over your thighs. The strength of his grip makes your mouth water.

Swiftly, you raise your hips up and position the head of his throbbing member at your fluttering entrance. When you sink down, taking the length of him inside you, you both groan. Much to your surprise, it doesn’t feel like defeat.

“Stars. You feel so good.”

He urges you to move, shoving your hips forward in a grinding motion. You squirm above him as you struggle to adjust to his size. When he pushes you back, his cock hits something inside you that makes the edges of your vision go white. You keen his name, and he quickens his pace, guiding you back and forth atop him.

“Say it again. Say my name like you only want me.”

“Poe,” you sigh, driving your hips against his. You clench around him, desperately chasing the sweet release that was just out of reach.

He releases a soft grunt as he lifts up off the armrest and captures your bottom lip between his teeth. You wind your arms under his and dig shallow crescents into his back with your fingernails as he drags the bite out then flicks his tongue over the resulting sting soothingly.

“I’d be yours if you asked, Doc,” he murmurs as he tangles his fingers in your hair. “All you’d have to do is ask.”

You nip at his lip in retaliation, hard enough to draw a yelp from him. “Stop bullshitting me, flyboy.”

Poe’s fingers close around a handful of hair, and he gives it a short tug. You gasp as your head falls back and his lips latch onto the side of your throat. He brazenly sucks a mark into the delicate skin there and grins at his handiwork.

“Brat.”

“Sweetheart.”

He bucks up into you, his cock reaching deeper inside you than his fingers ever could. In a few simple moves, he’s turned the tables and taken control again. The irritation rises in you in tandem with the heat of pleasure building in your belly.

“I’m being serious. It’s not the drug talking,” he says between pants.

You know that. At least while he’s fucking you, the drug has no effect on him. You roll your eyes at him and just focus on riding him. But Poe doesn’t give up easy. He whines your name.

“Leave me alone,” you mutter, grinding down and taking him in to the hilt.

He sucks in a breath and shakes his head. “I can't.”

Rough fingers find their way to your clit and draw tight circles over the bundle of nerves. His other hand slips beneath the fabric of your bra and toys with a hardened nipple. Poe handles your body with the same confidence he has when operating the dash in his X-wing. It’s the last straw that puts you over the edge, and suddenly you feel like you’re taking off into the stars.

He fucks you through your orgasm, plunging into your cunt over and over as he lets broken moans tumble from his mouth indiscriminately. “Beautiful. I’m close. So close.”

You surrender to the frantic rhythm of his thrusts, boneless and hanging on to his taut shoulders for dear life. When his hips begin to stutter, you clench down on him, earning you a strangled cry of your name. Poe drives up one last time and spills inside of you, and the sensation of his hot spurts makes you whimper and shudder over him.

When he collapses back onto the armrest, he takes you down with him so that you’re lying flush against his heaving chest. Everything sounds so distant, so far away compared to the roar of blood pumping in your ears. You stay like that for a while as the both of you try to recover.

“Did that… work?” you ask finally, breaking the silence filled with only the sounds of your combined breaths returning to normal.

“You could say that,” he says. He glances down at you. “Oh, right, the drug. The pain’s gone. Don’t think it’s coming back.”

“Good.”

You start to shift to pull yourself off his softening cock, but he presses a hand against the small of your back to hold you still. Inquisitively, you look back up to meet his gaze. Warm brown was starting to return to the edges of his eyes as his pupils receded.

“Listen, sweetheart. I know you think I’m a flirt. But the truth is it’s just my way of staying in control.”

Pressing your lips into a thin line, you let out a tired exhale through your nose.

“It’s true. C’mon, best pilot in the Resistance? I’m just a conquest for these people. Turning them into conquests puts the power back into my hands,” he says. “None of them want me because they actually know me.”

“What are you saying?” you ask, your heartbeat high in your throat.

Poe’s fingers dance lazily across your back as he presses a kiss to your forehead. “I’m saying you’re not a conquest. I wasn’t just chasing after you out of some sick, twisted need to bed the one girl I couldn’t have.”

You lift yourself up slightly to get a better look at him, and the softness of his expression threatens to break your heart. He brushes his knuckle against your cheekbone and tucks a lock of your hair behind your ear. The gesture is so tender and intimate, it makes your stomach flutter.

“Let me prove it to you. Let me take you out properly when we get back. I promise you, you won’t regret—,”

“Poe,” you say, cutting him off and taking his chin between your thumb and index finger. “It’s a date, alright? So shut up.”

And with that, you lean down to kiss him again and feel him smiling against your lips.

masterlist | cross posted to ao3

[hannahbarberra162]

Squace of Hearts

18+ MDNI

on Ao3 Part 2

(I found this image on Facebook, I can't find who made the collage).

For my Ace loving Nonnies. Thank you for 100 followers! This was supposed to be a one shot but...it's a two shot. Fluff and smut.

Synopsis: You run into your childhood friend, Ace, at a bar on some nameless island. You remember him being cute, but nothing like this. Sparks fly between you (literally) as you rekindle your childhood crushes.

(I know there is a portal fruit already. This one is a little different.)

~~~

“Come on, Squace. I taught you to cheat better than that,” you said with a purr as you leaned your forearm against the top of the wooden chair in front of you. A man with an orange cowboy hat perched on top of shaggy black hair paused as if frozen.

“I FUCKING KNEW IT!” yelled Twin-Blade immediately, throwing all his cards in the air. The other Whitebeard Commanders sitting at the round wooden table didn’t seem as fussed. 

“How could you not know it yoi? Ace isn’t good at cheating, we just let him because it doesn’t help him win anyway,” replied The Phoenix calmly.  Meanwhile, the man sitting in the chair you were leaning on whipped his head around, eyes wide.

“Is it really you?” he said, standing up and turning around to get a look. Squace looked like the little boy you’d left behind on Dawn Island, but had clearly grown into a man. And what a man.

“In the flesh,” you said with a wink. Ace grinned widely and hugged you, picking you up and swinging you in a circle. You laughed as he swung you, it was so nice to see him after all these years. He set you on the ground and looked you up and down.

“You look great!” You laughed again and gave him a grin.

“You’re not looking so bad yourself there, cowboy,” you said as you flicked the brim of his hat. Ace smiled as he blushed at your compliment. And there he was, the boy that you’d had to leave behind all those years ago. You’d never forget that face.

“Aren’t you going to introduce us to this beauty?” Twin-Blade had evidently relaxed since his outburst and was flashing you a toothy smile. 

“Oh, right. This is Dreamy. We grew up together on Dawn Island.” You laughed again.

“Aww, no one’s called me that in a long time, I missed it. But I guess you probably haven’t been called ‘Squace’ either.”

“Come, sit with us for a moment,” requested Izo. “I have so many questions about how all this happened,” he said, gesturing to Ace as a whole.

“Don’t want to interrupt your card game,” you said with a twinkle in your eye. 

“C’mon, we haven’t seen each other in years. I wanna catch up,” Ace pleaded with those puppy dog eyes you’d never been able to say no to.

“If you insist,” you said, grabbing an empty chair and hauling it to the table at which they were seated. You sat next to Ace, so close your thighs were almost touching. You knew Ace, of course, but the rest you only knew by their wanted posters. 

“So, you two grew up in the same town yoi?” The Phoenix asked. You and Ace exchanged a look.

“Not exactly. I lived way up in the mountains, Ace lived a little closer to the town.” 

“Then how did you meet if you were living so far apart?” You smirked at Ace, ready to tell the childhood story. He tried shaking his head to stop you.

“Dreamy, don’t. It’s embarrassing,” Ace whined. 

“I must, I must! I caught Ace spying on me when I was bathing in the river. So I broke his nose,” you said, reminiscing. The other men at the table laughed uproariously, while Ace turned as red as the beads around his neck.  

“I mean, I set it for him afterwards. He didn’t complain about it too much either. After that, we were thick as thieves. Right, Squace?” You patted Ace’s cheek affectionately, and he leaned into your touch. You weren’t going to embarrass him too much but a little ribbing was always fun.

“Why do you call him Squace?” Izo asked curiously.

“Ah, because his forehead is almost perfectly square. So square plus Ace, you get Squace.” His friends laughed heartily, Twin-Blade even with some tears in his eyes. Ace groaned.

“Then why does he call you Dreamy?” The Phoenix asked with a sly look. You had a feeling he already knew.

“Because I was the dreamiest girl he’d ever seen in his whole life ,” you said with a smile, putting your palms under your chin, your hands framing your face like a flower.

“All right, all right, enough with the kid stuff,” Ace said, still red as a tomato. 

“I’m just teasing you. I missed you a lot,” you told him in a sweet tone. “I’ve been keeping up with you, I have a copy of all your bounty posters. I got worried when I stopped seeing the Spade pirates, but it seems you’ve found your place,” you said gesturing around the table.

“Oh, sorry. Let me introduce everyone. This is Thatch, Izo, and Marco. We’re all Whitebeard Commanders.” Ace looked proud of himself and his friends. He had a right to be, it was incredibly impressive. They inclined their heads at you and waved as Ace said their names. Good looking buncha pirates, you thought. 

“Pleased to meetcha,” you said, saluting them with a finger. You’d been working on the Grand Line for years, but you’d never run into Whitebeard Commanders before. 

“Do you really have all my posters?” Ace asked, flabbergasted.

“Mm-hmm. In my best waterproof trunk for safekeeping. I take ‘em off the walls as soon as they’re updated, only taking the best copies. By the way, I saw Luffy’s starting to make a name for himself.” You weren’t as close with Luffy, Ace hadn’t brought him up the mountain that many times. Still, you kept the kid’s posters too. 

Ace beamed with pride, “yeah, he’s left Dawn Island too.”

“Does he still want to be -”

“The King of the Pirates,” you and Ace finished the sentence together. Even though you’d only met Luffy a handful of times, he’d mentioned his dream…a lot. 

“You’ve gotta tell us more about Ace as a kid,” Thatch begged. 

“Nah, that’s long behind us, I wanna hear about life with Whitebeard . ” You didn’t want to embarrass Ace too much in front of his crewmates. You did have quite a few Ace stories up your sleeve, but you didn’t want to injure his pride. Ace puffed up as he told you about how he was the Second Division Commander, how he’d tried to kill Whitebeard for 100 days, how he’d met Red Haired Shanks and thanked him for saving Luffy’s life, how he’d gotten his devil fruit on Sixis along with a first mate, and many other tales of adventure. He didn’t mention how attractive he’d become, how his lean muscles moved when he shifted, or how his adorable freckles made you want to kiss him all over his face. 

Your cheeks hurt from so much smiling and laughing at his tales. Now you were seeing the other side of Ace you’d missed. As he told his stories, he had swagger, confidence, charm, and humor. It was easy to see why people liked him and how he’d risen to prominence so young, he was effortlessly charismatic. Even when you were kids, you knew he’d do something great with his life. You didn’t have as much confidence about your own path. As he talked about his current life, you noticed all the other Commanders egging him on to tell more and more stories. They obviously cared for him and supported him. You were happy for Ace - he had a hard childhood, born under an unlucky star. He seemed to have found a new family to love him, which he deserved in spades. 

“But what about you?” Ace asked, “what have you been up to? Are you on a pirate crew?”

“Can’t you tell I’m a Marine?” you said sarcastically, gesturing to your outfit. You were wearing a very short dress, tall ass-kicking boots and had a knife strapped to your thigh. “No, I’m just joking. I tried the pirate thing. It wasn’t for me. I’m a mover.”

“A mover? What does that mean?” Ace asked, tilting his head like a puppy. He was so goddamn cute, you wanted to eat him up. You remembered him being a good looking kid, but nothing like this. 

“Just what I said. I move stuff. For a price.” 

“Like, you pick up couches and pianos and stuff?” 

“Something like that,” you replied cryptically. You were building anticipation, but you wanted to show off a little for Ace. Ace looked at you with just as much admiration as he always had and it did something to you. You’d missed the feeling of being someone’s crush and you wanted to relive it.

“You look smaller than you were at 15. How do you move heavy things?” Ace asked, looking you up and down. You absolutely loved it when he gave as good as he got.

“Oi! I’m not smaller! You just got bigger! And besides, like this,” you said, bringing your hands out in front of you. You turned your right and left hands one after the other, like you were twisting a doorknob. A blue portal opened under a beer that had just been set in front of Thatch. The full glass fell into the portal, coming out from an orange portal you’d opened right in front of you. You grabbed the beer before it smashed onto the table, and took a sip. Ace’s mouth was hanging open. You gently closed it for him with your palm. The other Commanders were looking with sharp interest. 

“I ate the move-move no Mi,” you explained. “It allows me to, well, move things. I can open a blue portal and anything that goes through it comes out the orange one. It’s handy. So I made a business where I move large or difficult things, for a high price. That’s what I do.” Well, that was one of the things you did. 

You could see Ace bubbling with questions. You looked at him indulgently, and said “go ahead, ask.” You answered question after question about your devil fruit from both him and his friends. How big could you make the portals (no size limit, but the larger the portal the more energy it took to operate), how much could you fit through the portal (no limit, but it did come out the other side the same size), can you move people (yes, including yourself), how far can you cast the portals (as far as you can see with your naked eye), and was there anything between the portals (no, they were directly connected, no space in between them). You showed off a few tricks, having your hand come out of the table, taking Marco’s glasses off his face and putting them on your own without getting up, simple things like that. After a long while you had enough, you didn’t like talking about yourself all that much. Besides, you had work to do the next day.

“Alright, alright. Listen, Ace, I’ve gotta go now but I’d love to catch up more. How long are you on this island?” 

“Coupla days, I think. Are you staying here for a few as well? Can we meet up for dinner? Here? At 6? Tomorrow?” His voice was going up in pitch the more questions he asked. He was so flustered, you couldn’t help but smile. And tease him just a little more.

“Mmhmm, that’s what’s nice about working for myself. I can leave - or not - when I want. See you tomorrow, cowboy,” you said, kissing his cheek and sauntering away. Ace blushed again. So goddamn cute.

~~~

Ace POV

Ace, along with most of the bar patrons, watched your hips swish out the doors of the bar. He hung his head. “Alright, have at it,” he grunted. He knew he was due for a large amount of teasing from his brothers. 

“Nah, that’d be no fun. First crushes are a sacred thing, man.” Thatch clapped Ace on the shoulder. “Everyone remembers the first person who set their heart aflame,” Thatch said wistfully, grabbing at his chest. “Leo, I’ll never forget you or your washboard abs.”

“True, mine was a girl named Aiko,” Izou chimed in. “I met her at a soba shop. We spent one summer together, enjoying each other’s company at night.” Izou put his chin on his hand, lost in his own thoughts.

“Isabella did it for me,” Marco replied. “I saw her in a swimming suit when I was 10 and I was done for. We get it yoi. Besides, what’s there to say? She’s pretty, powerful fruit, fun to be around. Did she really break your nose?”

Ace was surprised at their mature responses. He thought they’d be eating him alive for all the information you’d brought up or for how hard he’d tried to impress you. There was something about seeing you again that made him feel exactly as he did when he was a boy. You were so cool, so charming, so sexy. He had always tried to impress you, but he never felt like he measured up. Maybe now he could redeem himself. 

“Yeah, she did. She was so angry she punched me in the face, still completely nude after getting out of the river.” Ace still remembered your perfect boobs from that day. He had thought about them…many times over his teen years.

“High spirited,” Thatch said, looking for a waitress to order another beer. 

“Yeah, you could say that,” Ace thought back on some of his memories with you. Most were fun, hunting, trapping, foraging, things like that. You’d taught him how to play cards, how to cheat at cards, how to tie knots, how to do a lot of basic things that no one had bothered to teach him. You were a shining spot in a rather bleak childhood and he’d held onto your memory dearly. Yes, he had Luffy, but he’d always been watching over Luffy, protecting him. Until you left, he felt like there was someone watching over him . 

“When was the last time you saw each other?” Izou asked, swirling his sake gently.

“Oh, well, we met when I was 11 and she left when I was 13… so she would have been 15, I think? She sailed off the island and I didn’t hear from her again. We’re only a couple years apart in age.”

Marco furrowed his brow. “She set sail at 15 yoi? With her family?” 

Ace shook his head. “No, she lived alone. No family. She just up and left one day,” Ace said, shrugging. It had broken his heart when he’d realized you really weren’t coming back for him. The two of you had talked endlessly about leaving Dawn Island, but he always thought you’d do it together. 

“So, she lived by herself as an orphan child, in the mountains, and set sail alone at 15? What the fuck was happening on your island yoi? She’s lucky to be alive and not enslaved.” Ace hadn’t really thought about it that way. It was all normal to him - he was basically feral until Makino and Sabo had helped him. Why did you set sail so young? Maybe he’d ask you tomorrow. 

“And what about those portals, man?” Thatch exclaimed, getting his hands on a frosty glass. “Really interesting. I wonder if she fights with ‘em. Like you think you’re gonna slice her but bam! You’ve just stabbed yourself in the side.” The others agreed, and talked about various applications they’d use it for. Marco, of course, was curious about its medical application and if it could be used surgically. Ace’s imagination ran wild when he saw your power. He really wanted to see more of it in action. 

“Well, you’re all gonna hafta wait to find out,” Ace declared. “None of you are welcome to meet up with her tomorrow.” He folded his arms across his chest.

“And why is that Squace ?” Izou said with a grin. Ah, there it was. It was bound to happen sooner or later. He knew with the kind of details that you’d shared there’d be no way they could resist the bait. 

“Yeah, show us your forehead!” Thatch reached for Ace’s neck, trying to get him into a headlock. Thatch wrestled with Ace playfully while Izou and Marco watched, cheering Thatch on.

“We wanna see the square yoi!” 

“Is that why you have those curtain bangs? And wear that hideous hat?”

“C’mon Thatch, aim for his sides yoi, he’s ticklish!” 

“Don’t let his dreaminess get in your way!” 

It was all good fun. Ace wasn’t using his fruit power and Thatch was a good wrestler so it was pretty even. They had to stop when they smashed a table and got in trouble with the waitress. Afterwards, they walked back to the Moby Jr, where they were all sleeping for the night. Maybe Ace should rent a hotel room for tomorrow? Nah, that would be too much. He didn’t know if you were actually interested or just being a flirt. Either way, he was looking forward to seeing you tomorrow night. 

~~~

Your POV

You took your time getting ready to meet up with Ace. You were traveling through the Grand Line alone, so you didn’t have a ton of stuff with you. You were always ready to leave at a moment’s notice, grab-and-go style. Even so, you put in your best effort.  He was so good looking, he had to have a lot of experience with women. You wanted to live up to his expectations. You gave yourself a final twirl in the bathroom mirror and left your hotel room. Well, not exactly your room, you weren’t paying for it. You just portaled yourself into empty rooms and it usually worked out just fine.

Ace was even better looking in person than you’d seen in his posters. Sure, you pulled whenever you wanted to, but this was Ace . You’d thought about him so many times over the years, the sweet kisses you’d shared together as you “taught him how to kiss properly.” He was so special to you, really the only good thing that had ever happened to you on that shithole island. Sure you could be witty and flirty, but beneath that was an intense desire to not completely fuck this up.

You arrived at the bar around 6 and took a seat. You didn’t see him yet, and portaled yourself a beer while you waited. It was always amusing to switch things around and watch people’s confusion. You had just switched a guy’s fork and knife back and forth for the fifth time when you spotted Ace through the window. You’d enjoyed meeting his fellow Commanders but hoped they wouldn’t join in. You smiled and raised your glass, showing him you were there. He smiled that beautiful 1,000 watt smile that made your heart stop. He walked up to your table and plopped down. 

“What’s cookin’, good lookin’?” You couldn’t stop yourself, teasing him was so fun and easy.

“What’s going on, Dreamy? Starting without me?” You grinned and portaled him a menu to look for something to drink. Ace took the menu cheerfully. 

“What are you drinking? Looks good.” 

“Oh, ah, I just sort of grabbed it, I’m not sure where it is on the menu.” You didn’t offer to take the menu either.

“Isn’t that nice, you taking care of me on the first date?”

“ Is this our first date? I seem to recall some other times we were together…” The two of you spent hours together, drinking and chatting, reminiscing over old memories. It felt you’d been separated for months, not years. You’d clicked since the moment you’d met as kids and things were no different now. 

After your first round, he handed you the menu again. “Whatcha thinking about drinking next?” You glanced over it but didn’t take it from him.

“You pick, I don’t care.”

After a few hours and many drinks, you were tipsy and wanted to get a little more forward with your flirting. 

“Ace, let’s get out of here. I wanna take a walk.” You didn’t wait for his response, just made a large portal, grabbed his arm, and brought him through it. You held him up by his waist since it was disorienting the first few times to go through a portal. He sagged against you, looking a little worse for the wear. 

“But what about the bill, we didn’t pay -”

You waved off his concern. “I left money on the table. I know you’ll be here a few more days, I won’t getcha banned from the place. Don’t worry about it.” You weren’t lying, you did actually pay for the drinks you’d ordered. With someone else’s money. Usually you’d just portal yourself some money from a marine base or some noble’s house when you needed some cash. So what? It wasn’t like the Marines or some fat cats would miss a few thousand Beri. You weren’t exactly a pirate, you didn’t have a crew or your own boat. You just sailed around for work, taking what you wanted and then leaving. It was similar-ish to piracy but not exactly the same. Your moral compass didn’t have any objections and your wallet didn’t either. 

Ace recuperated quickly and was excited at having gone through a portal. You could tell he was going to start asking you more questions, so you put your hand on his shoulder and backed him into the brick wall right behind him. You put your hand on the wall behind him, even though he was taller than you.

“Ace, you wanna try something I’ve been thinking about?” Ace nodded solemnly. You slowly inched your face closer to his, bringing your mouth near his face. Ace put his hands around your waist, bringing you closer. You gripped his bare shoulders tightly and exhaled into his ear. Ace shivered but didn’t move. You knew what he thought was going to happen but you couldn’t resist. 

“Do you wanna try joining our devil fruit powers together?” you whispered seductively into his ear. You thought you’d tease him but he quickly turned the tables on you. He leaned back further against the wall and leaned his foot against it, like he was getting comfortable. He moved one of his hands from your waist to behind your neck, pulling you even closer.

“I can think of something else I’d like to do together,” he whispered as an answer. You loved seeing this side of Ace. Maybe he’d gotten his footing after catching up with you at the bar. “It’s been a while since my last lesson. I’d like to show you what I’ve learned.”

“I’d like that too,” you said huskily. He brought both of his hands up to cradle your face, bringing his lips down to your own. You were looking up at his freckled face, yearning written all over yours.

“I can tie a monkey’s fist knot in under two minutes,” he said, ghosting his lips on yours as he spoke. He didn’t kiss you, just released your face from his hands and returned them to your waist. Your mouth dropped open and he closed it with his palm, like you’d done to him. It was your turn to flush while he smirked. Oh, he’d grown up all right. 

Once your face returned to a normal color, you punched Ace in the shoulder. “That’s not funny!”

“I think it’s pretty funny,” Ace said languidly. You huffed, but smiled after. You liked playing the game as much as he did.

“I do wanna try combining our powers though, for real. I wanna see if we can send flames through a portal.” Ace’s eyes lit up. 

~~~

It wasn’t even a big fire on the Moby Jr., you didn’t see what the issue was. It was put out pretty quickly, too. Besides, Ace had set the ship on fire before, you could see the scorch marks on the deck. Yes, it was late at night and everyone was sleeping but you had successfully combined your powers, wasn’t that interesting? The Phoenix apparently did not think so.

“What were you thinking yoi?” Marco said, shaking his head at the two of you. You felt like you were being scolded by a parent. You were gonna let Ace take the lead on this one.

“Um…we were trying to see if we could find a new battle strategy?” Ace answered, trying to see if that would satisfy Marco.

“Why would you want to battle our own ship yoi?” Marco replied, exasperated. You snickered, what a bad answer. “And you, Dreamy,” Marco said, rounding on you, “I expected better from you.” Your laughter stopped in the face of the stern half transformed Phoenix in front of you. Dang, this is what guilt felt like. 

“We can fix it in the morning. What do we need? Wood? Money?” You weren’t worried. You could get those things no problem. There was a Marine base on the other side of the island, easy pickings.

Marco had a chilling grin on his face. “Oh no, yoi. You have to buff that out by hand. Sandpaper, vinegar, that kind of thing. See you tomorrow, bright and early yoi.” Marco walked away, smoothing his feathers. You glared at Ace behind Marco’s back. 

“What?! It wasn’t all my fault! I don’t control the portals!” You weren’t actually mad, it had been really fun to blast things with fire, even if it meant more work tomorrow. And yes, maybe you had partially been at fault. But it’s not like you were going to disobey the First Division Commander of the Whitebeard Pirates, so you’d be working with Ace tomorrow morning to fix the ship. You’d had worse jobs.  You put your arm around his waist and leaned your head on his shoulder.

“Guess I’ll be under you tomorrow, Commander. Maybe for the whole day,” you said silkily.

“I can be a stern taskmaster, hope you’re up for it,” he cooed.

“I’ve been known to enjoy a little strict supervision now and again,” you murmured close to his ear.

“Goodnight, Squace.” You turned to him and stood on your toes, asking with your eyes once more for a kiss. 

“Goodnight, Dreamy,” as he leaned in to capture your lips with his, you escaped through a portal at your feet in the last second, leaving only the echoing sound of your laughter. 

[wynnefic]

2025, here we go 🥳

A multiple of 5 type of year, hell yeah. The usual look back on the prior year below the cut!

In 2023, I posted four one-shots, and I'm delighted to say that in 2024 I beat that with 15 oneshots and one multichapter fic.

Perchance to Love, in which a time traveling Harry gets love potioned, as one does

let the sky fall, in which Harry's a phoenix and Voldemort's a fan

yet I still believe in ever after with you, in which Harry is the Bachelor and Tom can't believe he's a cliche

what the whole world wants, in which SQQ is determined to stay out of the plot and fails miserably

love you since this morning, in which fem!Harry sees Sirius and goes "ah yes that's the one"

wake me up when they build that time machine, in which child!Tom gets a new start

set my soul on fire, in which Harry wants a baby and Voldemort deals

you feel it once and you're never the same, in which Harry's too popular for his own good

at last, the skies above are blue, in which the sorting hat also gives out free soulmates

like a river flows, surely to the sea, in which I write two love potion fics in the same year

take my name and make it yours, in which Sirius claims it's not an engagement ring

leave the door ajar, in which there's some necromancing

the future's ours to see, in which the Black family tree is a romantic

take my hand, take my whole life too, in which there is marriage

but if it's forever, it's even better, in which it's Hufflepuff's cup that hands out the free soulmates

something I'm not, but something I can be, in which I swap Dumbledore with Sirius

The latter half of these (9) were written for the 2024 Sirry Stockings fest over on the Sirry Discord, which was so much fun. I'm glad the mods ran the event again!

Like last year, I stayed mostly in my tried and true fandom of Harry Potter, venturing out only into Scum Villain, which was my main reading obsession of the year. The amount of Scum Villain words I've read makes me glad there isn't an AO3 Wrapped. All 16 of my new fics were rated T, very in character of me, and "Sirius Black Lives" was my most-used tag. I know what I'm about.

All in all, I posted 45k, my highest posted word count since 2021. It's not too much compared to my even older years, but ah, well, those times are long gone. In some ways I don't mind it too much -- I like where I am in life -- but I do still get nostalgic about how much free time and energy I used to have a decade ago.

My favorite reads of 2024 were:

The First and Last Adventure of Kit Sawyer, m/m romance between a historian and an Indiana Jones type with supernatural elements

Death in the Spires, historical early 1900s murder mystery with m/m subplot

Four Thousand Weeks: Time Management for Mortals, productivity

Good Morning, Monster, heartbreakingly excellent memoir of a therapist

The Adventures of Amina al-Sirafi, badass pirate gang gets back together for one last job

Outlander, 1940s woman falls through time to the 1700s, VERY good romance

Peak Mind, a reread, still my favorite meditation book

IRL, it was overall a good year. I had many good times with family and friends, including a visit from an old fandom friend. I finished paying off my student loans (🥳) and my car, which felt amazing. I went on vacation to Lake George and took many photos. I went on many hikes. I had my third year work anniversary at my current company. I had a great time with someone cool before we broke up. I started learning to crochet again and got halfway through a scarf. I read many good books.

In 2025, I want to finish that scarf -- or maybe start a new one. And then crochet a hat to match the scarf. I want to finish Perchance to Love, the WIP I started last year; I paused working on it because I wasn't sure which of two directions I wanted to take the fic. I want to read even more good books. I want to write even more Sirry. As usual, I want to learn and to grow, and to engage in fun nonsense.

This blog isn't too active anymore, but feel free to join me over on my Discord server if you want to catch up!

All my best to all of us in 2025! ❤️

[accidentally-in-fictional-love]

📖🚬🍭🔞 surelyyyy

Excuses, Excuses - Johnson/Reader

Warnings: No use of Y/N, gender-neutral reader, you have horrible luck, making out, blowjobs.

Wordcount: 6030

Summary: All you wanted to do was find the man who'd stopped you from getting mugged at a bar, but there was no way you could walk up to a River Phoenix with a box of gifts without a better reason than thank you, right?

Notes: I'M BACK! I've been here the whole time, but you know what I mean TwT I got caught on this one ages ago since I was writing very heavy stuff with Johnson for my 3RP fic, and no matter what my brain just did not want to get into the mood to write something cute and happy even for a little while, so it ended up affecting my entire queue ;w; well to fix that I did this first, before going back to LtF this weekend, so that wouldn't happen again! Sorry for the wait, I'm going to be writing through my queue at work again so this is the first of everything I wanted to finish last year, I hope you all like it ❤️

You were late, Valentine's Day was weeks ago now, but that's exactly how long it'd taken to not only make it this far from home in your free time, but to also work yourself up to trying again. You had the worst luck with the Brawlers’ checkpoints, always saying the wrong thing and failing their test and needing to go to a different town to try again when they became determined to not let you in. You'd been trying for months now, so long you had a conspiracy theory that they were all talking to each other about you and making sure you couldn't get in, but that couldn't be the case, right?

You just needed to be better, just needed to get in once, because it was too risky to wait for him to come back to town, you'd end up missing him that way and then you'd be stuck with the package sitting in your passenger seat for yet another month.

You called it a package, ‘present’ was more accurate, but you didn't want to call it the latter until it was accepted. It never would be if you couldn't get into the place before March, and it was looking more and more like this package was going to be undelivered as you were turned away from yet another checkpoint.

‘This is hopeless,’ you groaned as you flopped into your seat, your map with a myriad of circles in multiple towns scribbled on it now getting yet another X over one of the locations. ‘I don't know what I'm even doing wrong, I'm answering all their damn questions.’

It was beyond frustrating, but, if you were to be honest, maybe you were mostly just frustrated at yourself for having this silly idea in the first place. It was just as beyond silly, because you didn't even know the guy, all you knew was that he was a Phoenix thanks to catching a glimpse of the golden letters on his jacket, therefore he worked for the Banished Brawlers, so hunting down the locations of every single checkpoint when you failed the first test was your best lead at bringing you to him. And, once again, you had to wonder if this was even worth it, delivering this package to a nameless stranger in a velvet jacket in the hopes that he'd, what? Fall for you when he saw what was inside, be shot through the heart with love after you said hello like some romcom because that’s what you wanted to happen?

Good luck with that, he worked for the Brawlers. Everyone along their route knew of them and what they'd done and continued to do, so the odds of this endeavor ending with anything other than you getting laughed at and your package getting tossed into the gutter were the most likely outcomes in reality.

Still, as you looked over at it and considered tossing it into the trash outside so he wouldn’t have to, you couldn't bring yourself to, not after the way he'd made you feel. He probably didn't remember it, it'd been months ago now after all, the interaction was probably lost to him with how much he and his associates had been drinking, but you remembered it clearly still. You didn't think you'd be able to forget it even if he did laugh in your face and turn you away like every single checkpoint had, because he'd saved you that night, and as fearsome and terrifying as his presence had been, to have that shadow crawl over you and those thugs, you couldn't stop thinking about how warm you'd felt in it.

You didn't go out to drink often, in fact you weren't even out for a drink that night, you were actually there to grab some bar food and meet with friends, but they'd bailed too late; car troubles had stranded them along the way, so you'd grabbed the food alone and had a drink just so the gas money had been worth it. They'd seen you there, an easy target and easier to force into a corner with their low threats and false saccharine words to make you afraid. They weren't Brawlers, you didn't even think they were in the Brawlers’ sights with how there were only four of them with, honestly, shittily-made patches of their own sewn into their cheap jackets, nothing but wannabes by the way they were even allowed inside on Brawler territory. Nonetheless, their threats could be very real with everyone making it a point to ignore you currently being cornered on your way to the door, typical bar crowd, and with those drinks making you too dizzy to stand a chance of a four on one fight you knew you were fucked once that first punch for your wallet was thrown.

But it hadn't come, because the Phoenixes had been there drinking too, the Wannabes either ignoring them because they weren't Brawlers, hoping that they'd keep their distance, or too focused on you to notice they were there while everyone else did, and suddenly it was four on three, with you as their audience. You didn't know any of their names, your vision was swimming as the worry swirled in your gut along with that no longer appetizing bar food and couple drinks. You didn't even remember what the blonde one had said to the others, but you remembered him and the large hand on your shoulder, the way he surprisingly guided you much too gently out of the way so they could get to work. They weren't heroes, even in your state you knew they weren't saving you, but you also knew that they weren't just doing this to solidify the Brawlers’ reputation in their stead even though this wasn't even a Bang-a-Rang.

‘Stay back, things’re about to get messy,’ he'd told you, tall and intimidating and everything you should've been afraid of, but his voice was softer than expected, and the fire in his eyes held an excitement for the fight as he threw his first punch to the man who'd grabbed you minutes earlier.

The fight was still a blur, but you closed your eyes and pictured the way the three of them had taken on those Wannabes with well-practised ease, they lived for the brawl even as Phoenixes, and you still saw flashes of gold behind your eyelids.

That was right, you couldn't just leave it at that, you wanted to thank him so badly that you'd put together the package and tried again and again at every single checkpoint you could find, you couldn't stop now. With a new determination you fixed your posture and reached for your keys, You had to keep trying until you saw him again even though you'd missed Christmas and Valentine's Day, your excuses to present him with your box of thanks, because he'd been the one to get there first, to pull you aside without hurting you, to get the guy who'd made you feel afraid.

He wasn't a hero, but that didn't mean you couldn't thank him for being yours that night, and with a fire in your own eyes you proceeded to turn the key only to quickly shut it off again, your mouth falling open and your heart pounding; there he was, there they all were, parked behind you and getting out of their car with a couple duffle bags before heading for the checkpoint you'd just left. You gaped in shock, if you'd kept going instead of sitting there moaning and groaning about failing again you'd have missed them, and you hurriedly grabbed your package and scrambled back out of the car. You headed for the door but hesitated when you heard the blonde’s muffled voice again, he was talking to the barber inside, the one you were looking for silent as he went to the counter and poured himself a drink, he was in no rush to get back on the road. 

You froze, your memory of him was also fuzzy because of the alcohol and the darkness, but in the light of the day in your sobriety you could see that he was beautiful for a gang member. He was graceful in his movements as he poured out two more glasses and took a sip while the other two handed over the duffles and sat down, the blonde still talking until the man behind the counter did a small double take and squinted in your direction; you were just standing there outside his door, of course his reaction would be to frown in suspicion after turning you away, and when the blonde turned he eyed the box in your hands warily as their third member looked ready for trouble.

Fuck, you shouldn't have hesitated.

‘Come on, slowly now,’ the man called to you with a crook of his finger, everyone's eyes on you as you pushed the door open and walked in, and your hands started to sweat over the cardboard as the blonde casually but still very much on guard leaned against the counter. ‘You wanna tell me what you got there?’

‘I- it's a package?’ you answered like you were unsure of it yourself, and they all exchanged another look.

‘You don't look like a fuckin’ postman, are you a fuckin’ postal worker you Bang-a-Rang reject?’ the barber demanded with a sneer, the blonde glancing at him.

‘You know them?’

‘Was in not ten minutes ago asking for a ticket, turned ‘em away for being too twitchy,’ he told them, and you frowned as you gripped the box a little tighter but didn't interrupt.

‘Uh huh, now you're back with a box, you wanna tell us about it, or do we gotta take you out back with it, wait for whatever's inside to come out away from the road?’ he asked next, the third member looking nervous about that option but ready to stand behind them after a quick glance to the mother and son walking by outside.

‘It's not a bomb,’ you quickly explained in exasperation, your eyebrows shooting up into your hairline it felt like, ‘it's a gift!’

‘A gift?’ More exchanged looks, this was quickly reaching the point of being too much trouble, he didn't even seem to remember you based on how he didn't even say anything back there, and your panic at their suspicion slowly faded to resignation, this hadn't been worth it after all. ‘Why'd you wanna give Percy a gift?’

‘Percy?’ You looked up with sad eyes, saw the barber staring you down with a single eyebrow raised; so he was Percy, and you gave your head a small shake before your eyes involuntarily flicked over to where the man you actually wanted to find was still sitting calmly.

‘Johnson?’ This was for the correct man, and everyone looked away from you to turn to him, see if he knew you, but you already knew he didn't, there was no point to this anymore. ‘Do you- hey, you're not leaving after that- Ethan, get the door,’ the blonde ordered the final man, Ethan, who quickly rushed over to lock you in. This was bad, you were boxed in again while you were trying to leave, four on one, and you frowned at your stupidity and hopefulness at being able to say thanks before tossing the box onto the ground and backing into the corner away from them.

‘Here, you can have it, this was a mistake,’ you told them even though that didn't help your case at all, and no one wanted to see what was inside of the package you so thankfully put together until finally, he stood. Johnson crossed the room with his drink still in hand, his shoe tapping against the side a couple times before he crouched down to pick it up. The others made noises of caution, they lived for the brawl but they couldn't stop whatever they feared was inside, so many theories of their own probably racing through their heads at why you would want to attack them, and it was only making you miserable. But you couldn't explain it to them without making yourself look worse like this, so you all just waited as Johnson placed the box on one of the tables by the barber's chairs, undid the ribbon you'd retied weeks ago after adding your latest excuses and additions, and looked inside.

You watched as his eyes glanced over the contents, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth before he took a drink to finish off what he'd poured, and once he'd set the glass down he reached inside. He pulled out the box of chocolates you'd picked just for him, because Valentine's had been your latest excuse, but he seemed amused to see the Christmas things still fitted underneath them as well, your previous excuse unable to be switched out because you wanted him to have them. 

Treats for both holidays, a set of shot glasses you saw that reminded you of him, a scarf because it was getting colder and you thought he looked good in red that night, random bottles of alcohol that you were now thankful didn't break when you'd thrown the box down due to them being so stuffed in there with the rest, as well as a tree ornament of a phoenix. Things that caught your eye in the week after he'd saved you, then the months as you failed to deliver them, many small signs of appreciation that showed you were still thinking of him even though he hadn't put a single thought towards you back after you'd left when the fight was over.

You felt your chest ache when he still didn't say anything, just rifled through everything until the others couldn't help but join in curiosity once they saw it was safe, and you saw their eyes widen and glance lightning fast between the two of you. They were trying to put it together, this was just getting worse and worse, and you couldn't help but sniff as your own eyes fell to the floor. You started to head for the door, package delivered, you could stop thinking about him now, but you stopped when a large hand found your shoulder again; your head looked up to see him staring down at you, and he took you in before giving your shoulder a squeeze.

‘Been wondering what happened to you. Haven't seen you at Final Call since that night,’ he thought aloud, his voice still so soft even though you'd seen him take on two men in that fight with no trouble, and your body instantly tensed as a range of emotions hit you all at once.

‘Oh, I see it now, you're the one those Gutters were cornering, ol Johnson here wanted to get you a drink afterwards but we couldn't find you,’ the blonde told you, which made his hand squeeze a little harder, just for a moment as he shot him a quick look.

‘Matty, c’mon…’ Ethan muttered for Johnson’s sake, now that things were calm they felt like the men who'd rescued you again, and you felt your cheeks warm when you noticed his hand didn't leave your shoulder as the blonde, finally named as Matty, quickly bickered with Ethan over potentially embarrassing the Phoenix you'd spent months thinking about. He didn't seem fazed through, back to that calmness even as Matty told Percy that you were the one they'd been looking for.

‘Ah, the Cinderella story I keep hearing,’ he chimed in teasingly, so different than the scathing man who'd turned you away, and that was when his hand finally left you; Johnson crossed the room, picked up the box, and returned to you, the lock turned and the door opened in one swift movement before he was herding you outside.

‘See you in the next town,’ Matty called to him as it slammed behind you, and your heart raced again as he approached your car.

‘Still owe you a drink,’ was all he said, your series of failures now suddenly blossoming into an outcome you hadn't expected, the two of you crammed into the front seat, the opened present in his lap as he went through it again and picked up the box of Valentine's chocolates. ‘Got my favourites, you asked around?’

‘No, I uh, I just wanted to thank you, for helping me with those guys; I didn't get a chance to back then, I had to call a cab since I couldn’t drive,’ you were finally able to admit, and he nodded as he unwrapped a chocolate and popped it into his mouth. ‘So… you wanted to buy me a drink, why?’

He glanced over at you before offering you one, and you let him unwrap it for you before accepting the treat that had been waiting for weeks to be delivered. ‘Wanted to make sure you were okay, looked a bit frazzled,’ he explained, another chocolate eaten as he then rested a knee on the dashboard, he was too big for your front seat, he should really adjust it. ‘Woulda given you a ride home, if you'd asked.’

‘You work for Bralwers, there's no way I-’ You cut yourself off mid-sentence, your cheeks heating again in embarrassment this time. ‘Sorry, it's just… everyone is always whispering about the Brawlers in my town, just outside where Final Call is, I never thought anyone who works for them would… do what you did.’

‘What'd I do?’ He asked it carefully as he kept eating, his eyes on the road ahead even though he wasn't driving.

‘You… you saved me.’ You felt hot from your ears to your shoulders, you sounded like a child actually saying it out loud, but he didn't laugh at your words, and his smirk didn't feel condescending. ‘I know it sounds silly, sorry-’

‘Don’t, I'm the one who told ‘em about the Gutters. Wanted to help you out,’ he told you like it wouldn't make your hands tremble on the wheel, and you swerved a little when you looked over at him. ‘Eyes on the road. Got too pretty a face to get messed up from some fight or a crash.’

‘You do?’ You hoped you didn't sound too rude, it just came out in your worry to not hurt his pretty face, because it really was pretty, but this time he did laugh with a small shake of his head, the sound surprisingly loud before he was quiet again.

‘You do,’ he corrected you, and you swerved again when he reached over to run his thumb across your jaw. ‘Didn't want it gettin’ busted up by those jokers. Taught ‘em all a lesson for you, then you were gone. Didn't get a chance to make sure you were okay.’ 

The car went quiet for a while as he let that hang between you, the fact that he'd been thinking about you just as much as you were about him, and when you looked over at the last red light before your apartment, you saw that he was holding the box just as tightly as you'd been, like he didn't want you to take it back if you didn't want this to go any further; this was the last stop, you knew his name and he had your present in his lap but you were still strangers, and despite that you'd brought him home for that drink instead of back to the bar, like his desire to see you had made you want some alone time instead of just your thanks.

‘Sorry I left so soon,’ was all you could say to all that, and it hung between you next as the light turned green and you finished the journey. He just took in the destination, putting the pieces together in his head, but he had no objections to the location as evident by the way he simply gathered up his present and brought it inside, following close behind all the way. It was a small building, but he didn't seem to mind the stairs since the elevator was out, taking them two at a time with legs much longer than yours even though he didn't know which floor to stop at. He led without guiding, waiting until you directed him to your place, and when you stepped inside he shrugged off his jacket and pulled out the shot glasses and his pick of the alcohol.

‘Got my favourite again. Sure you didn't ask around?’ he asked, and it took you a moment to figure out that he was joking with you; he was so different from what you were warned of, the Brawlers had been around for decades now, taken over more territory in their time of war than any other gang in the southlands, so naturally he knew what he was getting into by working for them, but he held no air of a soldier, not even of a fighter now that there was no one to fight. He wasn't a hero, he wasn't even one of the good guys, he was just a man who'd saved you and wanted to make sure you were okay even though not a single hand had actually been laid on you other than to intimidate, and somehow that made him even more intimidating than he'd been that night. ‘You gunna join me?’

‘Uh, yeah, I- no, no I don't get it, what is this?’ You knew you sounded rude this time because he hesitated, just a moment, and then he was pouring himself a shot.

‘Drinks.’

‘I know, I got that, but why me? You can see I'm okay, I gave you the pa- present, you actually accepted it, that's as far as this was supposed to go, that's as far as I assumed it would go, when I was trying to find you all these months…’ He set down the bottle, your own glass still empty as he stared between you and the drink he was about to consume in silence, until: ‘You want me to leave?’ You quickly shook your head, your feet moving on their own to close the gap between you in the living room and him in the kitchen, the rooms separated by different flooring. ‘No! I just- I've been thinking about you for so long, tried to get into the Bang-a-Rang so many times so I could give you that, this shouldn't be- you shouldn't have-’

‘Thought of you?’ he asked softly, his thumb under your chin again as he examined your face once it was turned up to him once more. ‘Kinda hard not to. Saw you the moment we walked in, sitting alone like that. Stopping the fight was just my excuse.’

Your heart pounded even harder as you thought of every single thing you put in the box, every single time you said that Christmas could be your excuse, then New Years when that passed, then Valentine's Day because it was your last chance until it was just a present, every practiced script you'd thought about telling him as more time passed and you were so sure you wouldn't be able to do this otherwise. How was he the same? How did this man see you in a bar full of people and be unable to say anything too until he was able to take the first chance to talk to you, touch you?

‘I don't get it…’ you moaned, you failed every single test, you weren't meant for the Bang-a-Rang, the only way you could've been part of his world was in the moment you handed the barely-wrapped present-turned-package over and that was it, the same way he became a part of yours when he touched your shoulder that night. ‘This should be over…’

He took your hand and held it up, palm out to accept his drink, but he didn't hand it over, just kept holding it and giving you the choice to take it the same way you left the box for him to take a chance on. ‘Do you want it to be over?’ he asked softly, much too softly for what he was, and when you met his eye you felt the intimidation finally melt away.

‘No,’ you told him, because that was the truth, and you didn't need an excuse to want to see him again anymore. You took the glass from him and downed it, the brand new to your taste buds and burning on the way down with a hiss through clenched teeth, and he chuckled before taking the glass back, setting it down on the counter next to yours, and holding you again instead.

‘Good, cause they're sick of me draggin’ them out to find you every week,’ he smirked down at you, your cheeks burning again before he was leaning down to brush his lips against your ear. ‘Drove around all night after the fight. Matty keeps sayin’ he's never seen me like this. Guess that makes you my favourite, too.’

You swallowed, his hot breath sending chills down your spine, and when you reached up to place your hands over his back you swore you felt his grin before he was pulling you flush against him. He was warm, much warmer than his hand had been on your shoulder, and you let out a small gasp to feel a little something extra just below the waist. He chuckled this time, already starting to kiss at your neck, taking his claim on you now that you were in his arms, and honestly, if it wasn't making your legs turn to jello and your brain go a bit fuzzy you'd be doing the same back to him.

‘Are you sure you wanna do this already? We don't even know each other,’ you successfully didn't stutter, his mouth leaving one final kiss before he backed away enough to look at you.

‘Been waiting months for this, but if you don't want to-’

‘God I want to.’ You definitely felt his smile this time as you pulled down into a proper kiss, just the knowledge that he not only wanted to talk to you but also be with you too much to handle; you wouldn't say it, you couldn't with the way he was currently sucking your tongue into his mouth until you keened at his neediness to swallow you whole, but you'd also wanted him. Many late nights, when the memories were clearest, you'd imagined what it'd been like if you stayed, thanked him then and there, and they did indeed range from drinks to talking to sneaking away to show your appreciation a bit more intimately, so when he lifted you up by slipping his hands under your thighs and wrapping your legs around his waist, it was impossible to stop yourself from moaning into his mouth at feeling it in person. 

He smirked again, sat you down on your island counter, the glasses pushed aside before you could knock them off, the bottle picked up and held for you to take. You gulped down as much as you could before you had to stop to cough, and he licked his lips before doing the same, minus the coughing. ‘You'd make a decent Phoenix,’ he joked again, and you took the bottle back for another swig before setting it safely to the side.

‘Cause I'm good at swallowing?’ you tried to joke back, but your words didn't make him laugh this time; instead, his eyes became focused, trained solely on you as his Adam's apple bobbed, and he jutted against you with his dick very visibly straining against his zipper. Oh, he's intimidating again, you thought automatically at the feeling, Johnson rubbing against you a couple more times until you were panting and pawing at his shirt. Things became a little less funny as you stripped each other one unwanted article at a time, all those months of looking for each other after one night of barely interacting now crashing together in another meeting of hungry mouths, desperate hands.

He tasted like the chocolate you'd bought him under the alcohol, made him taste sweet, and you smiled against his lips and tried to get more until he decided that he was ready for a different taste; he kissed your neck and down your chest, planting soft pecks across your stomach before undoing your pants. You could only breathe as you watched him slide them over your hips, down your legs until they were bare, more kisses decorating your skin with the odd nip to your thighs. You sighed longingly as he mouthed you over your underwear, leaving wet spots from his spit along with your arousal, and it took all your strength to give his hair a light tug when he went to free you from them.

‘Wait,’ you pleaded weakly, the sight of him looking up at you from between your shaking thighs almost enough to knock you out, ‘I never officially thanked you.’

‘Chocolates’ enough,’ he decided before going back in, and you tugged a little harder before you could hold him in place instead.

‘Please,’ was all you could say, and he licked his lips again before standing. He was so hard it looked painful, his palm pressing into his striped pants to give himself a little relief with a needy groan, and your thighs instinctively squeezed as a shudder wracked through you. The sight was so nice that it made you take so long to actually get up that he helped you, hooking his hands under your thighs again and slotting your body against his while he carried you right past your couch and straight to the bedroom. You felt lightheaded when he sat down on the end of it with you seated in his lap, so easily you could just stay there and go for another, more fun ride, but if you didn't do this now then you just knew that he'd be very happy to make what came next all about you.

So you forced yourself to slide down his lap, taking his pants with you until they crumpled to the ground between his ankles with a clink of his large belt buckle, his palm once again pressing down hard at the sight of you this time. It felt almost thrilling to have someone whose entire life was ruled by danger and pretty girls, you'd also heard tales of the beautiful Pinups who danced at the Bang-a-Rang, be looking at you like you were the only thing he wanted to see, but then again, if you'd ruled his life for months like he'd ruled yours, maybe you really were. The thought made you smile as you tugged the waistband of his boxers down until he was groaning at the mix of air and your hot breath hitting his dick; he was impressively big, it actually made you a bit thankful you'd started with this because it gave you a moment to mentally prepare for what came after, but the second you imagined not just your throat but your now very eager hole stretched around him you let out the lewdest noise of want on pure instinct and desire and took him into your mouth.

‘Don't rush, wanna feel every inch of you,’ he said above you, your eyes already rolling back at the heft resting on your tongue while he ran his fingers through your hair with the gentlest threat of grabbing on to guide you. He let you set your own pace so you did as he requested, taking it nice and slow as you got used to the size and length. Each time he hit the back of your throat you couldn't help but gag, and each time he was sure to check if you were okay; he was throbbing against you but he wouldn't take, and if you hadn't fallen before after all the sleepless nights and fantasies and excuses as you bought more gifts for the box, you certainly were now.

You moaned around him and grabbed on tight to avoid touching yourself, you wanted him to be the one to make you come too as you sucked more eagerly, took him more deeply until he stopped making sure and trusted you knew your own limits. You were certain you did, but as he passed the back of your mouth and started to fuck your throat you moaned again because that used to be your limit, guess he was setting a record.

When he started to get close you felt him start to buck, his hips stuttering forward as he attempted to control himself, and you dreamily opened your eyes to look up at him; you couldn't speak like this, but your actions held all the words you needed as you then guided his other hand to your head, let him tangle his fingers into your hair, and when you smiled around him and braced yourself back on his thighs, he got the message loud and clear. His voice slowly filled the room along with the sounds of skin on skin as he brought your head forward, quick breaths and small grunts gradually turning into groans and gasps as you brought him to the edge.

He held your head in place when he came, the taste hitting you hard and filling your senses as your body lit up in pleasure from hearing him come, the sound sweeter than any past partners who did the deed and decided they were too tired to return the favour. He savored every second of ecstasy you gave him until he was pulling you off so you could breathe again, his thumb running over your lip and cleaning up the mess now dribbling over it and down your chin. ‘That was some thanks,’ he sighed contently as you leaned into his touch, the two of you catching your breaths until talking was an option for you again.

‘Been thinking about it since that night, I'm glad I was able to finally say it,’ you replied easily, your chin resting on his knee a moment, just to be close to him again.

‘Was it everything you imagined?’ Another joke, but there was also a bit of hope in it as well, he was surprising. 

‘Better.’

He smiled again and helped you stand, his clothes pulled back up and his dick tucked back in before he left you without a word, your now cold hands wrapping around your arms as you watched him go in growing sadness, guess he wasn't as different from the others as you thought. When he returned before you could hear the door slam however, he held the box of chocolates he'd opened as well as the rest of his drink, along with something from your cupboard and two properly sized glasses.

‘Still owe you that drink, then it's my turn to thank you,’ he told you with a smirk, your body meeting the bed this time as he guided you to your pillows to partake in the treats meant just for him. He unwrapped one and popped it into your mouth before pouring you a drink, his free hand then snaking around your waist to make sure you stayed as close to him as possible; now that he'd found you, instead of you finding him as planned, he wasn't letting you go again.

‘The chocolate is thanks enough,’ you tried to joke back as you stole his right from his hand, and you laughed as he kissed you so hard you nearly spilled your drink all over your sheets. You'd missed Valentine's Day by a couple weeks, but you didn't need the excuse anymore, and neither did he as you ate from a heart-shaped box and kissed over the drink he'd wanted to share with you since that night. He now knew where to find you, and the fact that you wouldn’t have to try another checkpoint ever again made the promise of being with him like this again, no failure required, taste surprisingly like chocolate with a hint of alcohol as your fantasies turned into eager plans for the future.

[ell0ra-br3kk3r-writes]

The Phoenix and the Crow

part twenty-six

pairing: kaz brekker x fem!reader

genre: neutral

el's thoughts: i'm absolutely heartbroken that we won't be getting a spin off or sab s3... but also insanely grateful for the content creators out there who continue to share their talents with us <3

masterlist

Y/N felt like she and Kaz had become twin soldiers, marching on, pretending they were fine, hiding their wounds and bruises from the rest of the crew.

It took two more days of travel to reach the cliffs that overlooked Djerholm, but the going was easier as they moved south and toward the coast. The weather warmed, the ground thawed, and she began to see signs of spring. Y/N knew what the city looked like, having been before on quick missions. The docks were still crowded with ships, but it’s tidy streets marched to the water in orderly fashion, and the houses were painted in such colors- red, blue, yellow, pink- as if in defiance of the wild white land and the long winters this far north. Even the warehouses by the quay were wrought in cheerful colors. It looked like the city was made by fairies from her children’s books, everything was candy-hued and in its proper place.

“Cannon,” said Jesper.

Y/N turned and glanced up to where the Ice Court stood like a great white sentinel on a massive cliff overlooking the harbor.

Kaz squinted up at the big guns pointed out at the bay. “I’ve broken into banks, warehouses, mansions, museums, vaults, a rare book library, and once the bedchamber of a visiting Kaelish diplomat whose wife had a passion for emeralds. But I’ve never had a cannon shot at me.”

“There’s something to be said for novelty,” offered Jesper.

Y/N pressed her lips together, “Let’s say it’s not fun. I hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“Those guns are there to stop invading armadas,” Jesper said confidently. “Good luck hitting a skinny little schooner cutting through the waves bound for fortune and glory.”

“I’ll quote you on that when a cannonball lands in my lap,” said Nina.

They slipped easily into the traffic of travelers and traders where the cliff road met the northern road that led to Upper Djerholm. The upper town was a rambling extension of the city below, a sprawling collection of shops, markets, and inns that served the guards and staff who worked at the Ice Court as well as visitors.

Signs of Hringkalla celebrations were everywhere. The shops had created displays of pepper cookies baked in the shape of wolves, some handing like ornaments from large, twisting trees, and the bridge spanning the river gorge had been festooned with ribbons in Fjerdan silver. One way into the Ice Court and one way out. Would they cross this bridge as victors tomorrow?

“What are they?” Wylan asked, pausing in front of a peddler’s cart laden with wreaths made of the same twisting branches and silver ribbons.

“Ash trees,” replied Matthias. “Sacred to Djel.”

“There’s supposed to be one in the middle of the White Island,” said Y/N, ignoring the harsh glare the Fjerdan threw her way. Her voice was low and hard, the toll of their journey evidently forcing her back into her usual role as a soldier.

“It’s where the druskelle gather for the listening ceremony,” Nina continued.

Kaz tapped his walking stick on the ground as he stood beside the Inferni, leaning closer to her ever-so slightly. “Why is this the first I’m hearing of it?”

“The ash is sustained by the spirit of Djel,” said Matthias. “It’s where we may best hear his voice.”

“Kaz’s eyes flickered. “Not what I asked. Why isn’t it on our plans?”

“Because it’s the holiest place in all of Fjerda and not essential to our mission.”

“I say what’s essential. Anything else you decided to leave out in your great wisdom?”

“The Ice Court is a vast structure,” Matthias said, turning away. “I can’t label every crack and corner.”

“Then let’s hope nothing is lurking in those corners,” Kaz replied.

~

“Here?” Jesper complained, peering into the dank main room of the run-down tavern. The whole place stank of garlic and fish.

Kaz gave a significant glance upward and said, “Terrace.”

“What’s a gestinge?” Inej wondered aloud as she read the welcome sign.

“It means ‘paradise’,” said Matthias. Even he looked skeptical.

Y/N helped secure them a table on the tavern’s rooftop terrace. It was mostly empty, the weather still too cold to attract many patrons. Or maybe they’d been scared away by the food- herring in rancid oil, stale black bread, and some kind of butter that looked distinctly mossy.

Jesper looked down at his plate and moaned. “Kaz, if you want me dead, I prefer a bullet to poison.”

Nina scrunched her nose. “When I don’t want to eat, you know there’s a problem.”

“We’re here for the view, not the food.” Kaz spoke from beside Y/N.

She mously picked at her piece of bread, nibbling on it slowly. She had to agree with the others, the food was terrible, but it still wasn’t the worst she had had to eat before.

“We’re going to start looking conspicuous soon,” said Nina. “This isn’t the kind of place people like to linger.”

“Maybe they don’t have anyone to take to jail,” suggested Wylan.

“There’s always someone to take to jail,” Kaz replied, then bobbed his chin toward the road. “Look.”

A boxy wagon was rolling to a stop at the guardhouse. Its roof and high sides were covered in black canvas, and it was drawn by four stout horses. The door at the back was heavy iron, bolted and padlocked.

Kaz reached into his coat pocket. “Here,” he said and handed Jesper a slender book with an elaborate cover.

“Are we going to read to each other?”

“Just flip it open to the back.” Jesper opened the book and peered at the last page, puzzled. “So?”

“Hold it up so we don’t have to look at your ugly face.”

“My face has character. Besides- oh!”

“An excellent read, isn’t it?”

“Who knew I had such a taste for literature?”

Jesper passed it to Wylan, who took it tentatively. “What does it say?”

“Just look,” smiled Jesper.

Wylan frowned and held it up, then he grinned. “Where did you get this?’

Matthias had his turn and released a surprised grunt.

“It’s called a backless book,” said Kaz as Y/N took the volume from Inej and held it up.

She peered through. To the barmaid and the other patrons on the terrace, it looked like they were handing a book around, discussing some interesting passage. Instead Y/N had a close view of the gatehouse and the wagon parked in front of it. She lowered the book and looked at Kaz, a proud smirk gracing her lips. “Clever.”

He nodded and turned his head quickly, but not before she could notice the light red painting his cheeks.

“Four guards,” she said, nodding towards Matthias confirming what he had shared before.

“They’re the first line of deffence,” said Matthias. “They’ll check paperwork and confirm identities, flag anyone they think requires closer scrutiny. By this time tomorrow the line going through the gates will be full of Hringkalla guests and backed up all the way to the gorge.”

“By then we’ll be inside,” Kaz said.

They continued discussing the schedule of the wagons as Y/N lifted the backless book again. The wagon driverwore a gray uniform similar to the ones worn by the guards at the gate but absent any sash or decoration. He swung down from his seat and came around to unlock the iron door.

“Saints,” Y/N said as the door swung open. Ten prisoners were seated along benches that ran the wagon’s length, their wrists and feet shackled, black sacks over their heads. She felt the group’s apprehension rise. Only Kaz seemed unfazed.

“Hooded, chained, and shackled?” said Jesper. “You’re sure we can’t go in as entertainers?”

“We go in as we are,” said Kaz, “as criminals.”

~*~

taglist: @katherinereid @littlecat21 @jahayla-parker @maliciousbrekker @brekkershadowsinger @brekkers-desigirl @clunaes @wonderland2425 @bookloverfilmoholic @karensirkobabes @bookworm-center @el-de-phi @so-get-this-sammy

[thenightling]

Songs that might actually have real magical power connected to them / may double as a spell.

Vocal spells fall under the element of air since we need air to speak and wind is is what carries our voices and our intentions in our voices. The reason some spells rhyme or are in a foreign language different from the native language of the caster is because that makes you focus more on the words and the intention and meaning behind those words. This focus is what gives vocal spells their power. Whether an incantation, chant, vocal invocation, or, yes, a song.

Here in my top ten list of real pop songs that might double as spells or have magick infused into them.

Disclaimer: Some of these are harmless but others might actually be considered dangerous. Proceed with caution.

1. The Witch Queen of New Orleans by Redbone. Often played on Halloween radio dot net this song is a classic. According to legend if you make an offering to the great Marie Laveau and then dance to The Witch Queen of New Orleans you might invoke the spirit of Marie Laveau. She will grant a boon to anyone who can win her favor.

2. Sympathy for The Devil by The Rolling Stones. It doesn't matter who sings this, according to some rumors, any time this song is performed live, someone near to the performance will drop dead. Whether from being trampled, heart attack, or drug over-dose. The song is considered to be cursed. Even River Phoenix's death may be connected to it as a new cover of the song was being recorded for the movie Interview with The vampire around the time of River Phoenix's death. He was supposed to play Daniel Malloy, the reporter, in the movie. The role ended up going to Christian Slater.

3. Heaven is a place on Earth by Belinda Carlisle. Ever since I was little I took this song as a sign someone I knew and loved was going to die. The song doesn't cause it, but I noticed that it would happen to be on the radio, particularly walking in to a store, shortly before someone's death. Some writer on the 2019 Swamp Thing series noticed something similar and had the song tied to a haunting in an episode of the short lived series.

4. Witches' Brew by Omnia. The lyrics to this song are actually words from Shakespeare's MacBeth. The play, MacBeth, is supposed to be cursed. According to one version of the origin for the superstition, Shakespeare got his Weird Sisters scene from observing an actual witch coven meeting and when he used it in his play, the real witches cursed him and the play. It's a popular theatre superstition that you are not supposed to say MacBeth except in regard to the character's name and to only refer to the play, itself, as "The Scottish play."

As the song Witches' Brew by Omnia is just the dialogue of the witches from that scene put to music, the song is considered to have a power of its own and may also be cursed.

5. Bad Moon Rising by CCR. Many know this song from its use in An American Werewolf in London. The song has been on a few Halloween albums and is also considered a rock classic. Some people have considered the song to be the musical equivalent of a mild hex or The Evil Eye. Mild bad luck has been associated with the song.

6. The Ballad of the Witches' Road (Lorna Wu / Pop version) from Agatha All Along. In the canon of the show the song is a protection spell for Lorna's daughter to keep a family's generational curse at bay. The lyrics, out of context, seem to be about the road of life, particularly for a Pagan or Witch, and the importance of love and its eternal and infinite power. With the references to real occultism, the song might have the power to enhance or infuse a spell casting potential if only slightly. Besides being an affirmation of faith in magick and love. Consider it a magical espresso or booster shot, particularly for Wiccans and some other Neo Pagan groups.

7. Ghostbusters by Ray Parker Jr. This is an adorable one. Apparently the song, Ghostbusters, was infused with a lot of positive energy such as the emotions of playfulness mingled with hope and so many people can't help feeling a sudden and unexplained optimism and / or joy when hearing it. Ray Parker jr., himself, believes the song can make you smile even if you've never seen the Ghostbusters movie to understand its context. It just makes you feel good for reasons you may not be able to explain.

8. Remember by Ember from Danny Phantom. This song is considered to be cursed. I don't even like putting it at number 8 on the list. Originally it was written for the TV show Danny Phantom. The song gave the backstory of the ghost Ember and how she died. A fan named Randy Robert Stair became obsessed with the character to the point of delusion and ended up shooting up a local store in 2017. The song is now considered tainted by these murders.

As the song was originally the angsty backstory and battle cry of a vengeful ghost from a kids show the song already had an innate negativity to it despite the catchiness of it. Some people even claimed they didn't like to sing along to it or even hear it because any time they dared do that one of their pets would fall ill within a month and die.

9. Angels by Within Temptation. This one is a slow burn justice spell. The song may invoke spirits of justice and if they deem your cause justified and worthy, those who wronged you will be justly punished within three years of the use of the song as invocation for angels of justice.

10. Locked within the Crystal ball by Blackmore's Night. Just an affirmation of faith in the magick that exists in the elements of nature.

11. Bonus mention: Anything written by Charles Manson including The Beach Boys Never learn not to love. All considered cursed. Anything by Fleetwood Mac / Stevie Nicks is magically infused. Stevie Nicks is a practicing witch. And certain songs by David Bowie are about occultism and Kabbalism.

[inglourious-imagines]

Coming Back to You (Donald Malarkey x GN!Reader)

Summary: After Bastogne, Malarkey is more distant than ever, barely talking to you anymore. But we don’t give up on those we love, right?

Requested by: @love-studying58 (Your last Malarkey post I requested got me in the feels and I’m requesting a similar one cause Malark is my fav. )

Prompts: 85 – “He loves you, you know? He’s just afraid of admitting it.” (used as a setting, not as words being said) & 8 – “I said I’m fucking fine.”

Warnings: just some swear words

A/N: Finally wrote it, yayy! Hope it's alright.

Taglist: @alienoresimagines @teenmagazines @meteora-fc @eugenesmorphine @band-of-brothers-cz @real-fans @not-john-watsons-blog @tealaquinn @ok-roemanov @mrseasycompany @punkgeekchic @wexhappyxfew @hellitwasyoufirstsergeant @rayofshanshine @mavysnavy @easynix @georgeluzwarmhugs @easy-company-tradition @immrsronaldspeirs @snafus-peckuh @curraheewestandalone @warrior-healer @justamadgirlinabox @happyveday @order-of-river-phoenix @whoahersheybars

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.

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The internal debating whether not-knowing or knowing would be worse is slowly taking its toll on your mental state. Ever since your Company heard the news about the patrol and the rumours that Malarkey is the one to lead it, you’ve been anxious and terrified beyond words.

It is almost evening, and you’re sitting with other Easy Company soldiers in a basement of one of the buildings in Hagenau, slowly sipping on the liquid the army so casually likes to call coffee. But it’s hot, and it warms your cold shaky hands. Even breathing is hard now, anxiety spreading to every part of your body like an infection. You’re terrified and you’re not even supposed to be on the patrol. All because of your heart that clings maybe too hard onto a broken soldier with a green beanie.

Your eyes scan the room, trying to find him but he’s nowhere to be seen; part of you wants to get up, find him, tell him all the things you’ve been dying to say since Toccoa, the other part keeps you glued to the old wooden chair and it seems you are stuck at dead end, neither of the sides taking the initiative.

“Don’t you look like Webster when the Krauts shot him,” George laughs as he plops himself on the chair next to you. You know very well he’s just trying to cheer you up, knowing exactly what’s gotten you down, but to say you look like David when shot? That’s a bit far.

“Fuck you too, Luz,” you retort, but a smile tugs at your lips anyway.

George puts up his hands in a surrender-like manner, grinning like a kid. “Well, maybe not, but you do look terrible.”

This time you let out an amused chuckle. “You sure know how to compliment a person. Thank you.”

“Come on, now, Y/N, you know what I mean.” George says as his face slowly gets more serious but the soft smile of his never disappears. “Someone should go talk to him,” he continues, his voice gentle and somewhat soothing, and you, for a split of a second, let yourself believe that this is your older brother giving you relationship advice. That thought warms your heart more than the coffee ever could, and you pick up your gaze at George, offering him a sincere smile.

You don’t have to ask, for George already knows your next move.

“Walk up the stairs to the first floor, then the first door to your left.”

You pat his shoulder while getting up, leaving that cup of unfinished coffee on your chair. “Thanks, G, I might just let that earlier insult pass after all.”

---

You slowly walk up the stairs, with each step losing a bit of the sudden courage you felt before, but you don’t stop, you simply can’t. The doors are slightly opened, so when you peer in, you can see Malarkey quietly discussing something with Babe. You don’t want to disturb them, for both of them seem deep in thought, serious and so tired, so you slowly step back.

You don’t have to wait too long, in a few moments, Heffron is standing in the hall next to you. He gives you a sympathetic smile and without a word leaves you be. You don’t know it yet, but almost every soldier from the original Easy Company squad knew about your little crush that apparently is reciprocated, even though somewhat badly and without words so you have no idea. George will tell you, once you reach Germany, about all the secret bets concerning you and Malarkey, that even some of the officers are in on them. And you will laugh, rosy cheeked, and George will laugh too, saying how bad of a secret agent you would make.

Malarkey is looking out the window when you enter the room.

“Hi,” you say quietly to announce your present and take some steps towards him. “Are you okay?

“I’m fine,” he immediately answers without looking at you or even turning his head a bit.

You sigh, “You can talk to me, Don, if you’d li-“

“I said I’m fucking fine.”

That makes you stop in your tracks. Malarkey has never been harsh to you and even though it might be just fatigue and stress talking, his words hurt you. You reckon he wants to be left alone, to deal with whatever’s coming at him on his own, so with a heavy heart you turn your back to him.

But then he speaks again, this time his voice is soft and gentle. “Wait.”

You let out a sigh, knowing you would do anything he asks you to. So you turn to face him and the sight breaks your heart. He looks more exhausted than ever, the war aging him, making him look a lot older than he actually is.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers and without any warning, Malarkey crosses the distance between you two and brings you in for a desperate hug. You’re taken aback, the sudden show of emotions isn’t something you’re quite used to with Malarkey, so it takes you a few moments to truly comprehend the situation and wrap your arms around his torso.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers again, his voice so quiet you can barely hear the words. He’s clinging onto you like the drowning to a life vest, like his life depends on it and he’d break if he let you go.

You know he’s been hurting but it isn’t until now that you can physically feel his pain through his touch. Your eyes water but you forbid yourself to cry, focusing on Donald’s heartbeat to help you to remain calm.

“You don’t have to apologize,” you finally answer.

“Yes, yes, I do,” he’s quick to retort, his grip on you only tightens and it is slightly harder for you to breath now, but you don’t complain, how could you, when his touch is also the solution to all your problems.

“I finally realized something I should have realized long ago,” Malarkey continues but pauses right after. Then he’s suddenly pushing you away, gently, with the words: “I need to look at you when I say this.”

Your heart is in your throat by now. You try to calm yourself down but Malarkey grabs your hands and you’re dizzy again, but the good kind, the kind that makes you feel like you can do anything you want.

“I realized that if it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have made it through this war. You’ve always been by my side, through Currahee, through the jump, through Bastogne and I know I haven’t appreciated you enough for it and for that I am truly sorry.”

His voice is stronger now as he gains more confidence in his words. Your cheeks are red as tomatoes, and you can feel yourself smiling like a little child.

“And if your feelings haven’t changed, I’d like to spend all the moments I have left proving to you, that you, Y/N, are the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Malarkey pauses for a second, his eyes fixated on you, a soft smile lightening up his face. “The truth is, my Y/N, I lov-“

“Don’t say it!” you interrupt him, surprising him and yourself. He looks at you confused and hurt that it almost breaks your heart again, but you know you have to say this.

“You can’t confess that to me, not yet, not before the patrol. I wouldn’t be able to let you go.”

His shoulders visibly relax a bit and the wrinkles leave his face.

“Come back to me,” you smile at him, “come back to me and then you can have all my moments, all of them will belong to you, they always have.”

And then, after such long years, Malarkey is finally smiling, no, grinning happily, and you see the three years younger man in him, just like when you met him in Toccoa, Georgia. His face lightens up and he’s hugging you again, saying, “Then I shall come back. I’ll come back.”

You’re laughing as he spins you around in his arms and suddenly it is very hard to contain all the joy, luck and love in your heart.

“I’ll always come back to you.”

[sciencelings-writes]

Happy Narumitsu Day and WIP Wednesday, here's a gay little (877 wc) snippet from my Fem!Phoenix fic

“Wright… Are you sure you’re well enough to be doing this?” Edgeworth hesitated to return her attorney's badge as its owner rolled her eyes. 

“Actually, my fever has gone down quite a bit. I’m only at a hundred and two now.” Phoenix pulled out a convincing grin, which was interrupted by a coughing fit that lasted long enough to dismiss her point of being well enough to get back to her job. 

“Always the stubbornest of women…” Edgeworth teased with a barely-there smile. 

“You’re the last person I want to hear that from,” She huffed breathlessly, taking a moment to allow her oxygen levels to normalize. She glared at the change of clothes that she had brought to Hazakura Temple that Laury brought up to the hospital. 

Her shoulders ached just thinking about the struggle it was going to be to thread her arms through the sleeves and button it up with only the use of one arm. She had tried to reach her free hand behind her head enough to anxiously scratch her neck and had decided quite quickly that she wasn’t going to do that until her bruises healed up. 

Damn, she hadn’t been able to even brush through her hair since she had taken the plunge into the killer rapids, she could not appear in court without her thick mane of black hair tamed. Typically she liked to weave it into a tight french braid, using a little gel to make all the edges look extra sharp. The look was professional but also unique. She had seen it post-eagle river in the bathroom mirror and nearly winced at the mess it had become. Just another thing she would have to deal with before she left the hospital. 

“Do you… need help?” Miles’ voice shot through her train of thought, her cheeks noticeably tinted pink.

“Yeah,” Phoenix sighed, clearly defeated, “Yeah, I think I do.” 

Which was how Phoenix found herself having a bit of a crisis, and not even of the kind she was used to. No, this crisis was about 18 years in the making, starting as babies first crush into the beast it was after all this time. Because even after everything Edgeworth has put her through, she was still completely hopeless when it came to her. 

It started with a brush running through her hair, interrupted by a firm hand that kept the tugging from reaching her tender scalp, extra sensitive due to her illness. The slight graze of manicured nails made her shiver just as much as her fever had. Oh dear, she was not going to survive this. 

“You’re fortunate that ‘falling through a bridge into a raging river’ is a good excuse for this travesty,” Edgeworth’s snide words being softened by how gentle her hands were.

“What do you mean? It looks like this every time I wake up,” Phoenix almost succeeded in keeping her voice even as Miles’ fingertips combed through the hair at her temple. She was pretty sure that wasn’t necessary and at this point, the prosecutor was just doing it to torture her. At least she could blame the flush of her face on her fever. 

“Good lord…” The other woman audibly rolled her eyes. 

Phoenix’s only distraction was the transcript of the day's court proceedings that she unfortunately had to miss. She would’ve loved witnessing Miles attempting to cross-examine Laury. That was all she envied though, everything else about the trial seemed extremely nervewracking.

“I seem to recall your preference for tying your hair up, is that something you want?” Miles’ voice interupted her mental creation of a to-do list of things to investigate. 

“Normally I would, but I don’t think it’ll help my headache,” just the slight pulling of the brush had made her wince several times, regardless of the care Miles took. “Though I kind of want to cash in on that offer later, I bet with Franziska as a sister you were forced to learn a decent variety of complicated hairstyles.”

“You wouldn’t be wrong, though Franziska took her title of older sister very seriously so it was mostly me on the receiving end of her hair experiments. Culturally it is popular for German women to be adorned in braids, at least in traditional settings, so I did end up learning my fair share. Perhaps if you are ever in need of something elaborate I could be of some use.” Miles threaded her fingers through Phoenix’s hair one last time, checking for any final snags, though it made the defense attorney's mind go blank for a moment. 

“Hmmm, now I’m wishing I got invited to more fancy parties…” Phoenix spoke after a moment too long of silence. 

“Nevertheless, your hair looks nice down,” Miles stated like it was a fact, clearly ignoring how her scalp was sweaty from the fever and how it had last been washed with river water. The way it had naturally dried pressed up against a pillow gave it a curl wilder than the curl made by the memory of a full day bound in a tight braid. 

“Let’s get you dressed,” The woman lightly patted Phoenix’s back as she turned to the bag of clothes Laury brought up.

Oh... Phoenix had forgotten about that part.

[stardust948]

🤡💋⛔️❌👀

Fanfic Writer Emoji Ask

🤡 What’s a line, scene, or exchange you’ve written that made you laugh?

Ozai collapsed on the row of seats just under the helm. Now was the perfect time to turn the tables and attack from behind. Ozai stared at his hand again. It was still cold and lifeless as ever. Surely the bending removal was only temporary. This wasn’t the end of him. The Phoenix King will rise from the ashes of this defeat, stronger than ever. He’ll show them. They’ll rued the day!

“Is he okay? He’s talking to himself in third person again.”

“Maybe it’s one of the side effects the great lion turtle mentioned.”

“Nah, pretty sure he’s just nuts.”

“Which is why I suggested tying him to the front. Now we gotta listen to that all the way back to the Fire Nation.”

Ozai gritted his teeth. “I can hear you, filthy peasants!”

“And we can hear you!” the tiny girl yelled. “Go insane a bit quieter, would ya?!”

Ozai huffed. He’ll show them all. Start a revolution. Rally his allies. Have them cowering before him in no time.

“He’s still doing it.”

“Hmm. Maybe we should tie him to the front.”

“Try that and I’ll burn you to a crisp!!!” Ozai spat.

“You and what bending?” the water savage shot back.

Laughter filled the cabin.

That… shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did… Ozai knew he used cruel methods but these kids were just mean.

(Teenagers scare the bending out of me)

💋 First kiss fics. Love em or hate em?

I think they're cute. First kisses are very special.

⛔ Do you have a fic you started, but scrapped?

A Zutara Neverland AU with Katara as Wendy and Zuko as Captain Hook (don't worry they're the same age). I wrote half of the first chapter then lost inspiration. Same with a Pacific Rim AU, Miraculous Ladybug AU and Attack on Titan AU. (All Zutara of course).

❌ What’s a trope you will never write?

Cheating in a favorable light. Also the Alpha/Omega stuff or any heavy smut. The most I can do is implied.

👀 Tell me about an up and coming wip please!

January has been a very slow writing month so all I really have is the next chapter of Rivers in the desert. Ozai and the Gaang make it to Aunt Wu's village and Ozai could really use an aspirin.

[bluephoenixgirl]

The Only Exception

River Phoenix x Reader

Warnings: Some Adult Language, Angst, Fluff, Mention of Messy Divorce, Mention of Fighting, Abandonment, Mention of Sexual Activities, Daddy Issues, and Possible Grammar Errors (Sorry if I Forgot Any!!)

Summary: Growing up Y/N’s mother always told her that there is no such thing as true love and for a long time Y/N believed her mother. Well, until she met a blonde haired boy named River Phoenix.

Song Inspiration: The Only Exception by Paramore

Word Count: 1,451

Author’s Note: This is my first River Phoenix story. I know there aren’t a lot of River Phoenix stories on here and some people wanted me to write for him so I finally did! I’ve been wanting to write a story based off this song forever since it’s been one of my favorite songs ever since I was a little girl so I definitely suggest listening to the song before reading! I hope you all enjoy!🩵

Y/N is from a small town in Ohio but moved to California after she turned eighteen and has now lived there for almost two years. The reason why Y/N left Ohio was because of the bad memories that were made there. Y/N doesn’t just come from a single broken home, she comes from two broken homes.

When Y/N was just four years old her parents split up from a marriage that wasn’t filled with love. The only reason why her parents got married was because her mom got pregnant with her. Y/N would constantly hear her parents yell and scream at one another. Sometimes she would hear glass and furniture slamming against the walls and shattering.

When they finally divorced Y/N thought things would get better but they didn’t. In the beginning of the divorce Y/N lived with both of her parents separately. One week she would be living with her mom and then the next week with her dad but that didn’t last long. When she turned ten her father remarried and started another family. He wanted nothing to do with her or her mother. He just cared for his new wife and kids.

Y/N’s mother never remarried because of the heartbreak Y/N’s fathers caused not just her but Y/N as well. As Y/N grew up her mom would always tell to never fall in love because love doesn’t exist. All love does is crush you into a million pieces and most of Y/N’s life she believed what her mother said to her was true. There is no such thing as true love.

Well, she thought that until she met the one and only River Phoenix.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

It was an early Friday morning and Y/N just started her shift at the 50’s style diner she works at. As she was cleaning off the counter she would glance up at the glass doors from time to time. “You on the look out for your boyfriend?” She heard a voice say. When Y/N looked over she saw her best friend/co worker Lori looking at her with a teasing look in her green eyes. “He’s not my boyfriend.” Y/N told her in a stern tone. “But you want him to be your boyfriend.” Lori said to her. Y/N just stayed silent.

Yes, what Lori just said was very true but Y/N doesn’t feel like she’s ready to admit it out loud.

“I’ll take your silence as a yes.” Lori told her and walked into the back where the kitchen is. Y/N let out a heavy sigh and went back to wiping down the counter.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

A couple of hours passed when River finally walked through the glass doors with the same couple of friends he always comes in with. Y/N was waiting on a couple and their three children at the counter so she didn’t notice River had showed up. When she walked over to the cash register to put the money the customers gave her was when her Y/E/C eyes met River’s memorizing ones.

Y/N just shook it off and opened the cash register to put the money in it. As she waited for the receipt to print she could feel River’s strong gaze on her. That strong gaze he has always makes her feel like her heart is going to beat out of her fucking chest. That’s the effect River has on her.

“Here comes your boyfriend.” She heard Lori whisper into her ear as she walked behind her to the coffee machine. Before Y/N could say anything back at Lori she heard River say her name. There he is. The man that is making her doubt what her mother always told her.

“Sorry to bother you while you’re working but I need to talk to you about something.” River told her. “It’s okay. You could never bother me.” Y/N told him in a reassuring tone in her voice. “What do you need to talk about?” Y/N asked him with curious in her voice. “Are you and Lori doing anything tonight?” River asked her. Y/N answered his question with a shake of the head. “My guys and I are having a party on the beach tonight and we would love it for you two to come.” River told her. Before Y/N could say anything Lori appeared behind Y/N. “We’ll be there!” Lori told River with an exciting smile on her face. “Cool, party starts at seven.” River said as his lips curved into a smirk. “See you tonight.” River added and turned back around to walk back to the table where is friends are sitting.

“Lori! What the fuck was that?” Y/N said with a hiss as she looked at her with a glare in her eyes. “What? What did I do?” Lori asked with confusion in her tone. “You know how I feel about parties.” Y/N reminded her with frustration in her voice. “Y/N, this is your chance with River.” Lori told her. “I know you two are crazy about one another. Sometimes you need to step out of your comfort zone to get with the boy you like.” Lori explained to her.

Y/N knew that Lori again was one hundred percent right. “Okay.” Y/N told her with a nod. “That’s my girl.” Lori said giving her a pat on the shoulder. Lori walked away back over to the coffee maker. Y/N let out a sigh as she grabbed the receipt out of the printer of the cash register.

Y/N glanced over at River. He was laughing at something on of his friends said. Y/N couldn’t help but put on a soft smile. She looked away and walked over to the family she was waiting on.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

When Y/N arrived at the party with Lori she could feel her nerves start to pace. There is a lot more people at the party than she thought. As the night went on, Y/N would mingle around with Lori but once she started to talking to this one guy, she forgot all about Y/N.

Y/N decided to go sit down in the sand by herself a little bit away from the loud crowd of people. As she sat there she watched the waves crash on the shore line in front of her. “Hey.” She heard a familiar voice say to her. When she looked up she saw that the voice belonged to River. “Hi.” Y/N said in a soft voice. “Can I sit with you?” River asked her in a curious tone. After Y/N answered his question with a nod he bent down and sat right down next to her. Y/N could feel the butterflies in her stomach go into a frenzy.

“Where did Lori go?” River asked her. “Probably fucking with the random guy she ditched me for.” Y/N told him with annoyance as she stared out at the ocean. “Does she always ditch you to go fuck with a random guy?” River asked her which made her let out a sigh in frustration. “Pretty much. That’s why I don’t like coming to parties.” Y/N told him.

A comforting silence fell between the two as they both looked out at the beautiful blue water.

“What are you hiding from me?” River asked her breaking the silence. That question took Y/N by surprise. “What?” Y/N asked with confusion looking over at him. “I don’t know about you but I can feel something between us but when I go to make a move I feel like you shut your feelings away from me.” River explained to her looking at her with softness in his eyes. “When it comes to love, I caution myself.” Y/N told him. “May I ask why?” River asked her.

Y/N looked back out at the water. This will be the first time she’s told someone about her childhood. “Growing up, my mom always told me that love doesn’t exist and it’s just a shit show that breaks you down.” Y/N told him. “But?” River said sensing that there is more. “I recently made one exception.” Y/N told him still not looking at his strong gaze.

River used one of his hands to her chin to move her head towards him so that they were looking at each other in the eyes. “What is that exception?” River asked as his eyes locked onto hers. “You.” Y/N answered in a soft tone.

River moved his hand from her chin to one of her cheeks. Y/N leaned into his touch as his thumb gently stroked her cheek. River leaned in and connected his lips with her’s. As Y/N kissed him back she felt like she was on cloud nine.

Thanks to a boy named River, she believes that there is such a thing called true love.

[spiderfangirl22]

Hi! Everyone I’m new here! And I have been obsessed with Everything Keanu Reeves and Shout Out to the awesome person who made this cover for me and is going to be co authoring this story https://www.tumblr.com/juniperwoodwell she’s so awesome and here’s an official al sneak peek of our upcoming Yandere! AU Keanu Reeves x Assistant Reader

Where did everything go wrong?! Y/N’s inner thoughts screamed as she lay in her hospital bed.

The only sounds she could hear were the IV bags dripping and the alarms calling each nurse to their respective patients.

With a soft, pained groan, Y/N opened her eyes, which quickly dilated painfully from the bright lights of her hospital room.

“Shit…” Y/N growled, trying to block the harsh rays of brightness from blinding her as she slowly tried to sit up on the painfully hard bed. “I hate hospitals.”

“Same,” a deep voice replied humorously. Y/N let out a startled yelp, shocked to see her boss, best friend, and the world’s sweetest actor, Keanu Reeves, smiling apologetically as he startled her. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you, little mouse.”

Y/N, now calm, slowly sat up, leaning her back against the bed.

“Well, hello to you too, Big Bear,” she shot back, never getting over how Keanu called her "little mouse" since day one. Remembering she was in the hospital with no memory of the night before, she turned to Keanu. “Why am I here?”

Keanu sighed softly, his large hands resting in his lap. He seemed afraid to speak, worried the news would break her. But Y/N deserved to know.

“I’m not surprised you lost your memory of last night,” Keanu said softly. “You were heading to my home to celebrate finishing John Wick 2. A drunk driver hit your car, and you ended up hitting your head. That’s probably why you don’t remember.”

Y/N was shocked, taking in all this information. “How long have I been out?”

Keanu’s chocolate brown eyes filled with unshed tears.“Three days, three fucking days,” he said, his voice breaking. She tried to sit up more to hug him, but he gently pushed her back down. “When I got the call from the police, I felt like my whole world vanished.”

Keanu cried softly, tears finally coming down. Without hesitation, Y/N reached for him, pulling his head into her lap.

“I thought I lost you, Y/N,” Keanu cried, his voice muffled as his head lay in her lap. “I couldn’t bear to lose anyone else. If I lost you, I’d lose myself.”

Y/N felt her own tears streaming down her cheeks as she held this broken man. She remembered Keanu’s tragic past—losing his best friend River Phoenix, his stillborn daughter, and his girlfriend in a car accident. Despite all this, he remained kind and loving.

“I’m here now, Keanu,” Y/N whispered, lifting his head to look into his eyes. “And I'm not going anywhere.”

Keanu’s eyes hardened. “No, you are not.” He whispered with certainty.

Quickly wanting to change the subject, Y/N asked, “What happened to the other driver?” Keanu looked away, then back at her.

“Dead. The man who hit you died on impact,” he replied, almost growling, sending shivers down her spine. Before she could question him, the nurse entered, smiling.

“Mrs. L/N! It’s good to see you awake,” she said cheerfully. “Let’s check those IV bags.” Y/N nodded, then noticed Keanu heading towards the exit.

“Keanu? Where are you going?” she asked softly. Keanu stopped and turned to face her, his expression reminding her too well of John Wick. “Ke?”

[archeronfilm]

My Own Private Idaho (1991)

"I wish I read more Shakespeare so I could have something thoughtful to say about this"

In case you don't want to read my deranged fully wrought thoughts on this film, here's the short and sweet version:

This movie was bizarre, rich in symbolism, deeply confusing. It was honestly kind of a rapturous experience and I would recommend it, even if you just watch it to see young Keanu Reeves be gay and homophobic. 4/5 stars.

Okay let's get into the meat. the substance. Spoiler warning for content below the cut.

Content warnings for mentions of sex, sexual violence, and drugs.

Word Count: 5,139

My Own Private Idaho, dir. Gus Van Sant, is a movie I can only describe as a series of deranged and feverish vignettes separated by Microsoft PowerPoint transition slides. It stars, most notably, River Phoenix and Keanu Reeves as the two main characters.

We open with a shot of the dictionary definition of narcolepsy, and then immediately following is our main character, Mike (Phoenix), alone in the middle of a rural road in Idaho. He talks aloud to himself about how he can recognize a road he's been on before, mostly musing about how the road resembles a face. He's got a bit of a coke sniff thing going on, which was a joke I wrote in my notes and then had to include here when I realized he does just have a coke habit.

Mike, as one might guess by that opening shot, is narcoleptic. I am not intimately acquainted with the way that narcolepsy actually presents itself in real life, so I can't comment on how realistic this depiction of narcolepsy is, but he at the very least has Hollywood Narcolepsy.

He falls unconscious and has a dream about his mother in some disjointed feverish farmhouse dreamscape where the clouds move in time lapse and there are no sharp edges. She cajoles him, vaguely, reassuring him that whatever he did was okay.

I can't exaggerate enough, if you haven't seen this movie, that the location-title-cards make me laugh every time they pop up because of the way they look.

A thing this movie likes to do is use Mike's narcolepsy to take him someplace else. Many times it's used to imply that he really did just wake up somewhere, but those are later in the movie. Here it's obvious there was just a time skip.

Mike is sleeping in a chair? No, Mike is getting head in Seattle. For reasons I can only describe as probably psychosexual, there is a harsh cut-in shot of a barn falling from the sky and breaking apart on the ground when Mike climaxes.

We get another core part of his character here, when the man who was just blowing him gets up and throws a couple bills at Mike's chest.

Mike has to beg this man for ten extra dollars through his bathroom door. His dad drowned himself recently, or at least that's what he tells the guy.

After he secures that ten dollars, we get a scene where he's crossing the street and sees a woman who looks vaguely (and I mean, really vaguely) like his mother, and then more of this strange farmhouse world. The people around him cross the street without him. This is going to come up many many more times.

Next, Mike (who it's become clear is also unhoused) is brought into a stranger's house. He asks him to put on slippers before walking in. This odd gesture made me think "Surely, he's not getting paid by this guy. That'd be so bizarre!" and then, "Daddy Carol" gets off cartoonishly to Mike scrubbing his (already completely spotless) living space. "My lucky 44th little Dutch boy. You must scrub Daddy Carol."

We do not get to see him scrubbing Daddy Carol.

Instead, we get another client of his. A rich woman who brings him into her ostentatious home. Two of his friends are already there, Gary, and Scott (Reeves). I say friends, but in this scene he talks to Gary about Sinéad O'Connor, and when Mike says he's never been to a concert in his life before, the word "dude" leaves his mouth like a small child trying to say "damn" for the first time.

This is something about Mike I noticed a few times throughout this movie, but especially in this scene, where he looks around this woman's room at her decor, thinks about how nice her house is. He holds a porcelain conch shell up to his ear to listen to the sea.

This woman who hired him walks in, takes the shell, holds it to her own ear. I can't pretend to know what the director was planning with this shot, but it feels transgressive and wrong to me. This woman walking into his space to initiate sex with him, taking an innocent gesture and almost sullying it with her intent. Not that I necessarily think she's evil. Of course, she's paying him. Of course, he does this for money regularly, but the following undressing feels choppy and stiff, like Mike doesn't know what he's doing.

He barely looks present here, and then remembers his mother and falls stiff and unconscious on this woman's carpet.

His friends carry him out. His narcolepsy is triggered by stress. Here, we get a more in depth introduction of Scott.

It's very cold outside. You can see his breath. Scott soliloquizes to unconscious Mike about how he grew up in a nice neighborhood like this one. He complains about his father, how he thinks Scott is a threat even though he's just a kid. Mike dreams of more decrepit farmhouses. The song "America the Beautiful" plays behind Scott's monologue, for reasons that are totally inscrutable to me.

Scott gives Mike his blazer.

Not speaking of non-sequitur, here is a bizarre and hilarious scene in a magazine shop! It's completely different than the rest of the movie, and I love it. It's barely relevant to anything. We get to see that Mike, Scott, and some other boys have gotten some work as models for gay adult magazine covers. Their photographs start moving and arguing with each other. I have no idea why this scene is here, but it's awesome.

Here's what we learn: Scott will only do gay things for money, because doing it for free makes you a queer. Scott is going to inherit a lot of money. These two facts are repeated at least one or two times throughout the rest of the movie, but I'm absolutely overjoyed that this is the way they chose to present these details. A bunch of shirtless gay magazine dudes cattily talking over each other from their covers.

Mike is running down the street.

Mike averts his eyes. He looks at the ground and then he never breaks eye contact. This man who's pulled over is a little too close to him. Mike doesn't want a ride. He tells the guy to go the fuck home, and the rude cussing leaves his mouth disingenuously, like he isn't used to talking that way. Refusing that ride doesn't work out, because Mike collapses again.

Mike is back in Portland, held by Scott. He doesn't remember the German man, Hans (the same guy from earlier) who drove them home.

Then, in a diner, shoes on the table. This diner is red everywhere, which might mean nothing, but it definitely looks and feels cramped partially due to how not-neutral the walls are.

Here, Mike asks Scott how much he made off him while he was out, and Scott seems affronted that Mike would assume he'd do that. "Mike, I'm on your side" he says.

Mike and Scott can talk to each other. It doesn't feel like Mike is grating words through his teeth under duress, even if it *does* feel like he doesn't care too much about what he's asking Scott about.

In this conversation, we also learn about a new important character, Bob Pigeon. Scott hypes him up a lot, says that he loves him more than his father-- no, more than *both* his parents. Mike sort of ignores this long prattling Scott does about Bob, flatly says it'd be nice to see him again.

There's also this bit right after where Scott talks to this guy and Mike calls him a dickhead while watching them talk through the window, in a way that really just makes him look jealous. It's barely relevant but I thought it was kind of funny.

In the same diner, Mike gets smoke blown in his face by some girl.

This is one of my favorite scenes in this film. It's a kind of interview-ish sequence, the only part of the movie that feels like some kind of documentary about street youth and sex work. It's two or three of Mike's people talking about their negative experiences with sex work. Interspersed are normal film scenes of this girl blowing smoke at Mike across the table, of another girl crying on Scott's shoulder.

Mike seems irritated at the girl hanging onto Scott, jealous. One of the interviewees talks about his traumatic experience with what he described as "basically rape." He winces. The second interviewee, too, reveals that his experience was deeply traumatic. Their discussions are light, casual, they smile, their eyes wander. The things they discuss are disarming, uncomfortable. They don't seem to confront it, laughing through the smoke in this cluttered, stifling diner.

Mike wakes up again. This time, in a plastic tent on the roof of a building. Scott and co. are there, disbursed on some adjacent roofs. They all spot a man approaching. Haggard, in a long coat. Ironically, their bird's eye view is of Bob Pigeon.

Here's an important detail. Bob speaks in poeticisms. In this first scene, there's a while where he speaks in rhymes. More on the poeticism will be interspersed throughout this review.

Scott takes a swig, gives away his cigarette, kisses a girl, walks up some stairs to go see Bob. Mike is already in the room with a sleeping Bob Pigeon, looking at the floor. And then, Scott and Mike gleefully steal Bob's cocaine and attempt to do lines off his boots.

Bob is incensed with rage. Mike hides behind a doorframe, still actively doing Bob's coke while he rampages around this decrepit building hunting down Scott. Scott flees playfully in his three piece suit. He is the only one in a suit, deeply out of place, the mayor's son.

Nobody else in this scene is in a Shakespeare play, only Bob and Scott, who bounce manically off each other while the surrounding scamps mob around them. Despite this, all of them move like they're on a stage, navigating the support beams of this half-constructed space.

Scott pulls Mike aside. Tells him he has a joke to play that he needs Mike's help for. Mike immediately agrees. Scott proposes a robbery scheme, and he, Gary, and Mike dance in a circle. Mike is full of odd energy, unwieldy and foreign.

Scott is 20 years old. He gets his inheritance at 21. In one week.

These street boys are thieves. When Bob and Scott are alone, they kiss, and Scott dances away from it. Scott, paradoxically, doesn't want to be a robbing street scamp. He says he's done it to improve later, to impress his parents with his sudden change of spirit. Bob says he will be his hatchet man. Scott monologues at him, the king of the scene. When they are alone, they keep up their Shakespearean play. Scott likes to talk to himself at people.

Next is the scene where they undergo this night robbery. This movie is so surreal that everything feels serious and ridiculous. All four of them dress in full length pink robes. Mike holds himself around the middle with his robe, he's the only one who holds himself this way.

They carry out the robbery flawlessly. Only for two more mysterious robe-wearers (Mike and Scott, who had broken from the group moments before) to rob them in turn.

Scott's father hasn't seen him in months.

Scott drives a motorcycle with Mike on the back. When they talk, Scott is still in the play. Mike speaks normally.

When they go to see Bob after the night of their prank, they link arms and skip to him. Seriously.

Scott is back in his zone, the surreal play whose script only he and Bob know. Mike, scriptless, speaks as normal.

Scott massages Bob's shoulders, exchanging mirthful glances and snickers with Mike as Bob aggrandizes and lies about the life-threatening encounter he had last night. One of their allies helps him lie.

There were two perpetrators. No, five. No, seven. And Bob fought all of them off bare handed. Scott tries to fact check him, Bob does not falter.

Scott and Bob may both have the script, but only Scott knows it's a script. He's the only one in on the joke. Scott is only playing, he doesn't live here. He smiles wryly as he plays his part across from his scene partner, who lives on the stage.

All the scamps hassle Bob for the lie that Scott exposed. Scott lectures Bob, picks him up, spins him around. Bob knocks him over, but Scott is still on the upstep. Still smiling, always winning their scenes.

Scott talks like a character from a Shakespeare play to put on a show for his friends, you might assume, but that he talks that way just with Mike as well.

Scotty is these kids' ticket out of poverty and destitution. Bob really believes this.

When the police barge into the house to hunt for Bob, Scott and Mike pretend to have sex as a distraction. This works, even though they still definitely have pants on. Scott keeps playing with Mike's nipple, even though Mike keeps smacking his hand away. This isn't thematic, it just made me laugh myself hoarse.

Scott's dad finally gets to see him. When Scott is with the boys, he wears nice clothes. With his father, he wears a denim jacket with no shirt. Scott, keeping up his play, still calls his father "dad."

Scott and Mike are going to Idaho to see Mike's brother, who Scott didn't know he had.

They take a motorbike that Scott stole, which refuses to start on a familiar road, the same road Mike walks down in the very first scene. Scott humors Mike when he asks him to look at the face, even if Scott can't really see it. They laugh.

The bike is still not turning over by the time night falls. Scott and Mike sit by a fire. Scott muses about how good getting away from his rich life. Mike only replies to Scott's casual admission that he had a maid. He would have liked to have lived Scott's life, which he almost says outright instead of just implying it.

Mike wishes he grew up normal, even though he feels well adjusted.

Scott asks Mike what he thinks a normal dad is. Mike doesn't know. He wishes he could really talk to Scott, be honest with him, be close to him. He can't word it. Basically, Mike asks Scott "what are we?" He beats around the invisible bush. He transparently loves Scott, more than Scott loves him.

Scott isn't gay. Two guys can't love each other. Mike agrees, or maybe he doesn't, really. He could love someone, even if he wasn't paid for it. He loves Scott, and Scott doesn't pay him.

"I really want to kiss you, man."

Scott says nothing. Mike gives up, wishes him goodnight, curled into a fetal position by the fire. I love you though, he reiterates. I do love you.

Scott tells Mike to come over to him, opens his arms, cruel. Deeply cruel. Mike crawls into them anyway, falls asleep there anyway. Scott strokes his hair.

Mike wakes up in the middle of the road. The bike still wont start.

The cops show up, and Mike books it. Scott stays on his bike, which could mean nothing about class and background. I did laugh at Scott saying "I guess he doesn't like cops" while we see Mike clumsily fleeing.

He collapsed while running away. Scott carries him someplace. With a trailer. A cat. A familiar house.

Mike wakes up to sandwiches being shoved in his face. His brother. He tries to show mike a photograph of him and his mother, outside "the institution".

Mike was in an institution because his mother "wasn't safe," his brother claims. They were still a family.

Mike is having a bad time about his mother, and Scott leaves to piss. Scott calmly washes his hands while Dick and Mike yell at each other. He saunters back into the room as Mike collapses again. Dick pretends like he doesn't know that Scott heard and saw that.

Mike twitches in his chair, unconscious. Scott steals glances at him. Dick is a painter. He makes family portraits. Sometimes, he doesn't get paid, and he keeps them. Family photos of strangers pepper his walls. It is, to be candid, super creepy.

They drink, Mike smokes, Dick is grilling Mike about what happened with their mom, says Mike is avoiding something.

Their mother fell in love with a scumbag, wanted to marry him. He didn't love her. Mike flashes back. Their mom used to have this gun. A .38 Smith & Wesson. She killed that guy. This cowboy fuck. With Rio Bravo on the big screen, John Wayne on his horse.

Scott says, "how corny." But Mike is fighting for his life. That cowboy was Mike's father.

Mike breaks, yells at Dick. He demands that Dick stop fucking with his head. Mike's mother wasn't a hooker, his dad wasn't some cowboy. His dad was Dick. He knows that, but Dick seems surprised that He does. He throws things. Mike looks at something else, a postcard from his mother. She's out having a great time.

Dick hugs Mike. He cries, grossly. He wants to look her up in the yellow pages. She's at some resort, Yellow Tree.

Apparently, she saved up all her money and headed to Rome. She claimed she was looking for her family, but Mike is not Italian.

In a moment of pure delight, Hans happens to also be at the Yellow Tree resort. He tells them his room number, 407. The number 4 comes up semi-frequently in this movie, and I don't think I'm smart enough to formulate a theory on why.

Mike's first order of business in Hans' room is to take a nice bubble bath. He seems in wonder at the concept of getting room service. He asks for two orders of fries. In this moment, again, Mike is just a kid. He's a poor little kid who never got room service or took a bubble bath.

Hans sits too close to Scott to show him a photo of his mother. He shows her to Mike too, running his hand up the leg of the little boy we just saw take a bubble bath.

Hans then has a full moderately uninterrupted sequence where he performs an avant-garde dance routine from a cassette tape of him when he used to be a performer. It's bizarre. He's kind of killing it (lying). Scott humors him, Mike barely registers it.

Despite this, I still felt a little bad when Scott unplugged the radio to stop him. They're there on business. They're selling motorcycles. Hans seems to understand that that isn't quite true.

Now here, finally, is a scene I really have thoughts about. This is a sex scene. One of the only sex scenes in the movie, shockingly. Hans, Scott, and Mike are portrayed as having sex with a series of still shots. These still shots, I should note, are *not* still images. They are static poses, held still by the actors. It is silent, motionless, odd, underscored by deeply unfitting and bizarre instrumental music.

Something about this scene feels grotesque, violating. It feels like watching violent and uncomfortable performance art, art that you can't really tell the message behind so much as you can feel the visceral unrest. This scene has nothing plot relevant about it, not really, but it's one of the most striking scenes in the film.

It seems like they succeeded in selling that motorcycle, because the next scene is Hans getting pulled over by the cops. Speeding. Hans, for some reason, barely speaks to the officer and spends most of this short scene tenderly stroking the bike.

Scott and Mike, however, are at the airport in Boise with no baggage. They both laugh loudly about what they've just done to Hans. It echoes off the walls.

Mike wakes up on a bench by a fountain in Roma, Italy. Around him are young men talking animatedly in Italian. These boys have something familiar about them. They look, you might suddenly realize, just like Mike and his boys. There's even a blond one in a similar jacket to Mike's. This does not really become relevant, it is just another visual detail of the movie that you can feel in your ribs.

Scott yells for Mike from a yellow cab. The bell tower tolls, and I forget to count how many times it rings. I think it might have been eight.

Scott and Mike take this cab to a building in the sticks. It's overcast, and the grass is green for miles out. It's a farm, the first farm we see outside of Mike's fever dreams.

Scott meets a girl, Carmella, who lives here. It's her uncle's house. She wipes off her hand before shaking Scott's

At the same time, Mike pokes through a dark room calling for his mother. The door in the center of the wall behind him is the only source of light. Outside, Carmella tells Scott that Mike's mom already left a while ago.

Mike's mother was Carmella's friend. She taught her English. When Mike returns, he doesn't really listen to her when he tries to tell him that his mom isn't here. We get another choppy montage of Mike's memories of his mother.

And then, we smash cut to Mike crying helplessly on Scott's shoulder. More memories. His mother dances. Mike cries. Her house was blue. No, green. How could he forget? Mike hums a song. His mother bounces a baby, wearing a little pink jacket, on her hip. The house looks neither blue nor green, but grey.

Mike thanks Scott for coming all this way. He's ready to leave, now.

What I assumed was the next day, Mike climbs the stairs up to a room Scott is in. Scott leaves him outside, so he can be with Carmella alone. Here's the second of two sex scenes.

This one is shot the same as the first. Shooting the sex scenes this way makes them feel similarly strange and almost impersonal, but this second sex scene manages to feel less sad, less avant garde. The poses are not bizarre, nothing about it feels transgressive but that we are seeing it at all. A strange whistling underscores the scene. Scott almost looks sad after they finish, almost, for half a second before closing his eyes.

All three of them eat dinner at a cramped table. Carmella and Scott make eyes at each other, sitting shoulder to shoulder across from Mike. Mike blows smoke in their faces, echoing his lunch with that girl in the diner.

Mike lays in a narrow bed with his coat on. A bed in another room is creaking. We can hear Carmella and Scott giggling.

The clouds on this farm never clear. There is always a mist clinging to the grass. Mike walks through the fields alone, accompanied only by the odd animal and the whistling of the score. He runs into Carmella. She seems upset.

She says it's nothing, but she asks Mike to stay when he stands up to leave. Carmella hands Mike a small spiky plant. La castagna. A chestnut. She says it isn't big enough to eat, but she gives it to him anyway.

Mike says he knows how she feels. She sniffles.

"I think I fall in love," she says. Mike turns away wordlessly. He has, too. But she's luckier than he is.

Their bed creaks again, and Mike lays awake.

Scott says he's gonna take a little time off, like he's cutting Mike loose. Maybe he'll "run into him down the road". He hands Mike money, his share for the bike. Pays him off. "I fell in love, Mike. I'm sorry. I'm really sorry we didn't find your mom."

Scott and Carmella leave in a cab. Mike calls for Scott from the balcony as the cab is pulling away. He watches it leave, powerless. He only ever feels and looks powerless.

Mike stands around with his back to a tree, along with the Italian street boys from earlier. It doesn't really look like he belongs there.

He tries to pick up where he left off. He's in an Italian man's bedroom. But he seizes again, and the older man decides to leave him there. We don't get to know if he left to get help, but I definitely assumed he just left him in that room.

The clouds pass in time lapse. Mike wakes up on a plan. They, *he* is back in Portland.

This is the first time Mike has ever been alone in the diner. The first time it's ever felt empty. The first time we see him wearing only black, his hair combed.

At night, Mike stands on the side of the road outside the diner. A man pulls up, he knows him. A customer.

The car ride is awkward. Mike tries to ask how the wife is. The man is apparently less talkative than usual.

The Simpsons plays on this man's TV. Mike is rapt, laughing and clapping. When he sees the man walk in barely clothed, it's like he disappears. His simple joy drains, and he isn't there anymore. He's transparent around the edges, like a wisp of himself.

Mike is on the street again. Steam billows from a nearby smokestack. Mike lays on the cement near a broken beer bottle, laughing drunkenly.

There's that farm house again, and the field beyond it.

Mike is with Bob. He can't begin to care about whatever the guy talking to Bob is saying. Bob mocks the man's shoes, which are lined with bells. Bob owns the street.

Scott Favor leaves the car, well groomed, with a beautifully cleaned up Carmella in a nice black dress. He wears a suit, and it doesn't feel playful anymore. He is his inheritance.

Bob prowls through, jingle bells ringing as he steps. So, he got the guy's shoes anyway. Hilarious.

This nice venue has Hans in it. It seems like he's with a lover, some blond thing that hangs on to his arm. Good for him.

Scott wears a tan suit, gets introduced to benefactors. HIs father is dead. Carmella is *there*, but she doesn't matter to anyone but Scott. Scott doesn't answer when asked if he wants a political career.

Bob walks in, obviously out of place in such a nice place. People stare at him aghast. As you might have suspected, Bob is not getting what he was promised, what he *thought* he was promised.

Scott doesn't even turn around when Bob calls for him. He stands facing the booth of possible investors, only gracing Bob with his back.

"I don't know you old man. Please leave me alone."

Scott calls Bob his enabler. And, for a moment, you have to believe it. The way that his Shakespearean affect remains even now, the thing he has common only with Bob. There is a red light cast on half of Scott's face. He tells Bob not to come near him now that he's changed. He never once fully turns around, feet always pointed towards the table. Bob is escorted out.

Bob shivers in bed, in the house. He calls out for God, and then he dies. Sweat coats his pallid face. The boys cover him with a blanket and place him on a table. There are candles. Scott Favor broke his heart. The lost boys weep.

These boys, suddenly, are Catholic. Solemn.

The very next scene is a wake, with a priest speaking. For a moment, you could almost fool yourself into thinking it's Bob's. Of course, it's for Scott's father. Scott is tearless. Carmella fiddles with some plant she has in her hands. He glances around.

Across the cemetery, singing. Accordion. The boys sing and hold flowers, sitting in humble metal folding chairs, dancing and swaying. Mike smells a sunflower. This shot is soft around the edges, loose and bittersweet.

Scott's father's wake is clear and crisp. Joyless. Silent. Catholic. The lost boys sway and hold each other while they grieve. They scream. They fight. They throw things. Scott sits silently and still as stone in his chair.

They chant Bob's name. Stomp their feet. Mike is blurry at the edges. He smiles, looks across at Scott, and it seems like he puts him away. Forgets him. Joins his brothers instead. They pile together and hug. A man plays the accordion. There is joy, here, under the overcast sky. We see another shot of salmon jumping through water. The clouds pass in Idaho.

Mike is back on the road again, musing about it again. He knows them, knows he's been on this one before. This road will never end. Mike is wearing blue. Not black, and not his ever-present orange coast. This road probably goes all around the world, he says, and then he collapses in the middle of it again. The camera draws back. The road splits the grass in two. Yellow on one side and green on the other.

A car pulls up to Mike. A truck. Two men step out of it. They rob him.

The next car that pulls up is a man who picks Mike up, puts him in his car. It looks a little bit like Dick. He drives off.

Another barn, the clouds lapse past again.

The movie ends with another text splash.

"Have a nice day."

This movie is hard to write about. I had to attempt to capture how jarring and yet cohesive the vignettes are. How they choppily transition but *feel* continuous. The way this movie is written, shot, is impactful. You can, feel every beat of story hit you while your back is turned. Nothing feels out of nowhere, but everything catches you offguard.

The movie's tagline, "Wherever, Whatever, Have a nice day" might speak to the way the movie is *shot*, but it doesn't speak to how the movie feels as a whole. Sure, the vignettes might be wherever and whatever, but they aren't disjointed, or at least not in a way that makes them feel thoughtless. Nothing means anything, whatever is happening, and all of it matters quite a lot, actually.

You should watch this movie, and then you should agree with me about how the way Mike is portrayed is a hidden, heart-wrenching tragedy that doesn't even lend itself to the main plot. Or how Scott doesn't really belong anywhere. Or how really well the subject matter is handled, shockingly.

More than that, you should watch it because it's good.

Have a nice day.

[sunnydaleherald]

The Sunnydale Herald Newsletter, Friday, February 28th

XANDER: They'll never know how tough it is, Dawnie, to be the one who isn't chosen. To live so near to the spotlight and never step in it. But I know. I see more than anybody realizes because nobody's watching me. I saw you last night. I see you working here today. You're not special. You're extraordinary.

~~Potential~~

The Sunnydale Herald is looking for at least one new editor. Contributing to the Herald is a great way to get your Buffy on! Find out more here.

[Drabbles & Short Fiction]

The break of Dawn by No_Name_No_Records (Dawn, not rated)

make the fireflies dance by Skyson (Buffy/Giles, E)

No Expense Spared by CitizenMocha (Cordelia & Dennis, G)

Waiting on the Sun to Rise by hpg (Spike/OC, T)

Soteria by SomeKindOfADeviant (Drusilla/Spike, G)

This Year’s Girlfriend by QuillBard (Buffy/Faith, M)

the sweets by thisyearsgrrl (Buffy/Faith, T)

call your own fouls, cheat your own gut by thisyearsgrrl (Buffy/Faith, T)

[Chaptered Fiction]

Welcome to Hellmouthland, Chapter 9 by MalkMcJorma (Faith/Tara, M)

On the back of the turtle, Chapter 11 by dogbertcarroll, Narsil (Xander, DCU crossover, T)

Once Bound, Chapter 4 by spikes_guy (Spike, AtS team, M)

Galactic Slayers, Chapter 5 by storiwr (Buffy/Faith, Stargate crossover, T)

Miss Edith, Chapter 8 by BeppiGirl (Drusilla/Spike, Drusilla/Angelus, E)

Carved initials in a heart, Chapters 1-3 (complete!) by FivexFiveB (Blazinwolve) (Buffy/Faith, M)

To Step into the Same River Twice: Chapter 2 by VladimirHarkonnen (TheLightdancer) (Willow/Oz, Willow/Tara, E)

the Witch, the Scholar, the Spirit, Chapter 19: A Parting Gift of Time (Dawn's Sacrifice) by perfectlyGoodInk (Dawn, Scoobies, T)

Tourniquet, Chapter 3 by Melme1325 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

The Choice To Stay, Chapter 10 by Spikelover4ever (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

The Phoenix Act, Chapter 3 by Melme1325 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Where We Went From There, Chapter 2 by Pyewacket (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

On the back of the turtle, Chapter 11 by dogbertcarroll (Xander, Teen Titans crossover, FR18)

Summoned To Strixhaven: Schooling of Scoobies, Chapter 2 by JoshuAB (Scoobies, Dungeons and Dragons crossover, FR13)

a cat needs a name that's particular, Chapter 4 (complete!) by jewelram (Buffy/Spike, PG-13)

[Images, Audio & Video]

Manip: Faith & Sirius, father/daughter by christytrekkie (Harry Potter crossover, worksafe)

Crafts & artwork: Fresh Product shots of my Spike candle by Pauldbraun_

Artwork: Mourning Michelle Trachtenberg (Dawn Summers) by elegantpaperoperatormaker (Dawn & Lorne, worksafe)

Artwork: soft Fuffy by incognitoduck11 (Buffy/Faith, worksafe)

Artwork: Buffy/Faith by incognitoduck11 (worksafe)

Artwork: Warren sure does love balls by the-nerdcave (worksafe)

Artwork: The Trio by the-nerdcave

Artwork: Buffy/Spike line art by threalcrabbysamantha (worksafe)

Artwork: angel, a couple of post coma cordys, the gang as furries, a buncha darlas, and my beautiful vision of mall goth connor by artsying-ifer (worksafe)

Gifset: Giles & Dawn by bocadelinfierno

Photo edits: “Am I real? by hellyeahbuffysummers (Dawn)

Fanvid: Dawn Summers | A Michelle Trachtenberg Tribute by Jess

Fanvid: Carbon - Buffy and Dawn by Eva Lynn

Fanvid: Buffy and Dawn - Lights by juliaroxs241

Fanvid: Michelle Trachtenberg Tribute R.I.P Queen, Thank You For Every Memory by Damon's Cinema

Fanvid: BTVS: BUFFY THE ICON by Buffy's Hellmouth Collection (Buffy/Spike)

Fanvid: BTVS: BUFFY IS AN ICON PART 1 by Buffy's Hellmouth Collection

Fanvid: Buffy & Spike - Are You Gonna Be My Slayer? by Buffy & Spike Channel

Fanvid: Hot to go! ( Chappell Roan ) | Buffy summers by Buffeh

Fanvid: Funny spike edit by Literally Just Edits

Fanvid: Fight Like A Girl by MelissaIsLoud

Fanvid: Better Than Revenge -Buffy and Faith- by Btvs edits 13

Fanvid: Enemy-BTVS by GothamPond

Fanvid: Faith Lehane | BTVS | Bubblegum Bitch ( MARINA ) by Buffeh

Fanvid: Buffy The Vampire Slayer as a 60s sitcom by Randy Giles- BTVS

Fanvid: Spike and Dawn - BFFs by William Pratt

Vidlet: Dawn & Spike are besties ❤️ by Buffeh

Comics video: Spuffy/Bangel (part 6.1) COMIC DUBS! - Full version by Love Bites

Artwork video: Buffy says I love you to Spike by Satmolly

Artwork process video: Drawing Buffy The Vampire Slayer by Learn My Craft

Video: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (Remake) by Sevy's Brother's Podcast

Video: Buffy The Vampire Slayer (1997) || Season 4 reedited credits (Marc Blucas and James Marsters) by jo3ypx

Video: Dark Willow: The Most Powerful Witch in Buffy by The Cinematic Pulse

[Reviews & Recaps]

Podcast video: Buffy the Vampire Slayer: Season 3 Wrap-Up by Sh*t 90s Shows Taught Me

Podcast video: Buffy S03E15 "Consequences" Spoiler Review by LGRN - Entertainment

Podcast video: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (1992) – The Forgotten Origins of a Slayer by Forgotten Cinema

Podcast video: Buffy's Angels: Get It Done by The Franchise: A Film Podcast

Podcast video: Buffy's Angels: Storyteller by The Franchise: A Film Podcast

Video: Angel is a top tier episode of Buffy and helps to expand the vampire lore by Spooky Families

Podcast video: She's not the only one?! What's My Line? Pt.2 | Buffy the Vampire Slayer (2x10) by Up The Buff!

Podcast: Buffy talks (Take 3) Talking ep 3-7 by Beware the Moon Podcast

Podcast: Episode 59 - Chaos and Fungus Attorneys at Law (The Harsh Light of Day) Audio Only by The Sunnydale Diaries - A Buffy Podcast

Podcast: Welcome to the 'Hell Of A Mouth' podcast - plus Buffy Reboot News, and Best & Worst Episodes by Josh Liston

[Fandom Discussions]

Is the Buffy the Vampire Slayer fandom genuinely dead? by elijah-harley

i feel like every day i get into a new buffy ship, and behold, my latest: cordy and dru by selkiemaidenfae

the thing I love most about buffy is that she is my exact same age and we grew up together by ask-auntie-mac

The look of betrayal on Spike's face when he realises Buffy deinvited him from the house!! by mybloodyvampire

Dawn Summers : La petite sœur de Buffy, un personnage sous-estimé mais essentiel by corinneecrivaine

Friendship group [in the Buffy sequel] by nightshade

Romance? [in the Buffy sequel] by Cohen

Report that Michelle T has died continued by multiple posters

SMG's views continued by multiple posters

The First's S7 return continued by MoonLight SY-3

Angel and spike have the same name by leni19861

Rewatching Same Time, Same Place and Michelle was the best part 😂 by scifi_is_my_escape

Just finished the series for the first time 🥲 by liekweg

Maybe I'm not evil, but I don't think I can be good by Disastrous_Win_3923

Giles and his glasses page from the Slayer Stat Book 😅 by Thingol_Elu

Thanks to the wayback machine, I found a website about Buffy and Charmed that I made when I was 10 years old by Chademr2468

....Sadly I dont think I can ever watch Grave ever again...It'll always hit different now by Automatic-Adeptness4

Buffy's love life by Pristine-Dame

Sarah McLachlan's songs should have been used in every finale like "Becoming" and "Grave" by jdpm1991

Buffy and Xander is my favorite relationship by HomeRevolutionary763

Video: Buffy Did Spike Wrong! by Miss Dae

Video: Buffy & Books | Season 2 Ep. 15-22 | Part 3. by Mishelly

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[louisupdates]

FITFWT23: OUTRO SONGS

NORTH AMERICA

26 May - Mohegan Sun Arena, UNCASVILLE CT: The Best, by Tina Turner

27 May - Bank of New Hampshire Pavilion, GUILFORD NH: This Charming Man, by The Smiths

29 May - Place Bell, LAVAL QC: Downtown, by Petula Clark

30 May - Budweiser Stage, TORONTO ON: Summer of 69, by Bryan Adams

1 Jun - Blossom Music Center, CUYAHOGA FALLS, OH: Bittersweet Symphony, by Verve

2 Jun - Michigan Lottery Amphitheater, STERLING HEIGHTS, MI: Chasing Rainbows, by Shed Seven

3 Jun - The Icon Festival Stage, CINCINNATI: All These Things That I’ve Done, by The Killers

6 Jun - Kemba Live! Outdoor, COLUMBUS OH: The One I Love, by REM

7 Jun - TCU Amphitheater at White River State Park, INDIANAPOLIS: Love Will Tear Us Apart, by Joy Division

9 Jun - Saint Louis Music Park, SAINT LOUIS: Johnny B. Goode, by Chuck Berry

10 Jun - Starlight Theatre, KANSAS CITY MO: Moondance, by Van Morrison

13 Jun - BMO Pavilion, MILWAUKEE: I Can See Clearly Now, by Johnny Nash

15 Jun - Huntington Bank Pavilion, CHICAGO: September, by Earth, Wind, and Fire

16 Jun - The Armory, MINNEAPOLIS: Nothing Compares 2 U, by Sinéad O’Connor

17 Jun - Harrah’s Stir Cove, COUNCIL BLUFFS, IA: Ever Fallen in Love (With Someone You Shouldn't've?) by Buzzcocks

19 Jun - Denny Sanford Premiere Center, SIOUX FALLS, SD: American Pie, by Don McLean

21 Jun - Red Rocks Amphitheatre, MORRISON, CO 😪

24 Jun - Wamu Theater, SEATTLE: There Is A Light That Never Goes Out, by The Smiths

26 Jun - Doug Mitchell Thunderbird Sports Center, VANCOUVER BC: King Of Pain, by The Police

27 Jun - Mcmenamins Edgefield Concerts, TROUTDALE OR: Always On My Mind, by Elvis Presley

29 Jun - The Greek Theatre, BERKELEY CA: Never Tear Us Apart, by INXS

30 Jun - The Hollywood Bowl, LOS ANGELES: California Love by 2Pac ft Dr. Dre & Roger Troutman

1 Jul - The Chelsea at the Cosmopolitan, LAS VEGAS: Human, by The Killers

3 Jul - Arizona Financial Theatre, PHOENIX: Liberator, by Spear of Destiny

6 Jul - The Pavilion at Toyota Music Factory, IRVING TX: Hello, I Love You, by The Doors

7 Jul - Moody Amphitheater at Waterloo Park, AUSTIN TX: Teenage Dirtbag, by Wheatus

8 Jul - The Cynthia Woods Mitchell Pavilion, THE WOODLANDS TX: Walking On The Moon, by The Police

11 Jul - St. Augustine Amphitheatre, ST. AUGUSTINE FL: Every Breath You Take, by The Police

13 Jul - Hard Rock Live at Seminole Hard Rock Hollywood, HOLLYWOOD FL: Your Song, by Elton John

14 Jul - Yuengling Center, TAMPA FL: Hit Me With Your Best Shot, by Pat Benatar

15 Jul - Cadence Bank Amphitheatre at Chastain Park, ATLANTA: You Can’t Always Get What You Want, by The Rolling Stones

18 Jul - Ascend Amphitheater, NASHVILLE: Hold Back The Rain, by Duran Duran

19 Jul - Charlotte Metro Credit Union Amphitheatre, CHARLOTTE NC: Perfect Day, by Lou Reed

21 Jul - Red Hat Amphitheater, RALEIGH NC: Moondance, by Van Morrison

22 Jul - Merriweather Post Pavilion, Columbia MD: Easy, by The Commodores

24 Jul - MGM Music Hall at Fenway, BOSTON: More Than A Feeling, by Boston

25 Jul - MGM Music Hall at Fenway, BOSTON: Here Comes Your Man, by The Pixies

27 Jul - TD Pavilion at the Mann, PHILADELPHIA: Nothing Compares 2 U, by Sinead O’Connor

28 Jul - Stone Pony Summer Stage, ASBURY PARK NJ: Dancing In The Dark, by Bruce Springsteen

29 Jul - Forrest Hills Stadium, NEW YORK: We Are The Champions, by Queen

Away From Home Festival 2023

19 Aug - Parco BussolaDomani, Lido di Camaiore: We Are The Champions, by Queen

EUROPE

29 Aug - Barclays Arena, HAMBURG: Love Will Tear Us Apart, by Joy Division

31 Aug - Royal Arena, COPENHAGEN: Under Pressure, by Queen and David Bowie

1 Sep - Spektrum, OSLO: Wake Me Up When September Ends, by Green Day

2 Sep - Hovet, STOCKHOLM: Seven Nation Army, by White Stripes

4 Sep - Ice Hall, HELSINKI: Always On My Mind, by Elvis

5 Sep - Saku Arena, TAILLINN: All Star, by Smash Mouth

7 Sep - Arena Riga, RIGA: Thuderstruck, by AC/DC

8 Sep - Zalgiris Arena, KAUNAS: Can’t Help Falling In Love, by Elvis [Zouis this day]

10 Sep - Tauron Arena, KRAKOW: Lust For Life, by Iggy Pop

11 Sep - Atlas Arena, ŁÓDŹ: Blitzkreig Bop, by the Ramones

13 Sep - Wiener Stadhalle D, VIENNA: Supersonic, by Oasis

14 Sep - Stozice Arena, LJUBLJANA: Smile Like You Meant It, by The Killers

15 Sep - Budapest Arena, BUDAPEST: Helicopter, by Bloc Party

17 Sep - Arenele Romane, BUCHAREST: My Hero, by Foo Fighters

18 Sep - Arena Armeets, SOFIA: Bombtrack, by Rage Against The Machine

20 Sep - Petras Theater, ATHENS: Go With The Flow, by Queens of the Stone Age

1 Oct - Bilbao Arena Miribilla, BILBAO (VIZCAYA): Where Is My Mind, by The Pixies

3 Oct - Altice Arena, LISBON: Farewell To The Fairground, by White Lies

5 Oct - Wizink Center, MADRID: Munich, by Editors

6 Oct - Palau Sant Jordi, BARCELONA: One Armed Scissor, by At the Drive-In

8 Oct - Pala Alpitur, TURIN: Are You Gonna Go My Way, by Lenny Kravitz

9 Oct - Unipol Arena, BOLOGNA: Helicopter, by Bloc Party

11 Oct - Rockhal, ESCH-SUR-ALZETTE: Where Is My Mind, by The Pixies

12 Oct - Sportspaleis, ANTWERP: My God Is The Sun, by Queens Of The Stone Age [very self-aware choice]

14 Oct - Accor Arena, PARIS : Bubbles, by Biffy Clyro

15 Oct - Ziggo Dome, AMSTERDAM: Song 2, by Blur

17 Oct - Lanxess Arena, COLOGNE: Can't Stand Me Now, by The Libertines

19 Oct - O2 Arena, PRAGUE: Are You Gonna Be My Girl, by Jet

20 Oct - Mercedes Benz Arena, BERLIN: Friday I’m In Love, by The Cure

22 Oct - Olympiahalle, MUNICH: Praise You, by Fatboy Slim

23 Oct - Hallenstadion, ZURICH: Last Nite, by The Strokes

8 Nov - 3Arena, DUBLIN: These Are The Days, by Inhaler

10 Nov - Utilita Arena, SHEFFIELD: Mr. Brightside, by The Killers

11 Nov - AO Arena, MANCHESTER: This Charming Man, by The Smiths

12 Nov - Ovo Hydro, GLASGOW: Gloria, by The Snuts

14 Nov - Brighton Center, BRIGHTON: I Wanna Be Sedated, by Ramones

15 Nov - International Arena, CARDIFF: 20th Century Boy, by T-Rex

17 Nov - The O2, LONDON: Can’t Stand Me Now, by The Libertines

18 Nov - Resorts World Arena, BIRMINGHAM: Till The End Of The Road, by Boyz II Men

You can also find the list at this Twitter account: ltwtoutros.

[accidentally-in-fictional-love]

Things I Noticed While Writing Light The Fuse: Part 3, Episode 1

Phew okay time to wrap this one up for real this time!

This shot is interesting, we've got Ethan staring at Meredith, who's again looking at him, although probably because he's new and an easy target lol and then Johnson is watching Ethan, probably because he's looking at Meredith, while Matty has his eye on the bar

This is as far back as this shot gets, but Avron is nowhere in sight, so he had to have seen Matty walk over and purposefully approach him, what an asshole

Found him, weasel was waiting over there on the other side of the bar. Also I still can't get over Agnes calling him Prince it's so cute I just had to make it his actual title, the Prince of the Phoenixes 🥰 but I know it's probably got a bitter side to it too as a reminder that he is still a Phoenix, my deep dive on Matty could go on forever do not get me started

Okay I needed to point out this entire scene cause these two have such a fascinating not even relationship or rivalry but SOMETHING going on that I need to sit down with the creator and Rhys to know exactly what happened. I can theorize and write up Avron being horrible all day long but my desire to know what went on outside of 'Avron becomes a Brawler and Matty is jealous' because every single acting choice they chose for this scene is so fucking on purpose.

The way he just freezes and stares when he hears his voice isn't jealousy, that's a reaction. He was already tired from the run so he seems to be in a more serious mood here, but something switches as soon as Avron shows up. This is no longer fun on the river Matty, or initiation 'tell me why you wanna be a Phoenix' Matty, this is him upset over something, and Avron brushing him off is only making it worse like look at his face change once he touches him

That feels like such a deeper hatred than just jealousy. The way Avron is holding onto him and brushed him so roughly, the need to do full eye contact between them, and Matty's mouth twitches again before he says no problem. He was about to start something and I really need to know what happened you guys it's scenes like this that makes this show my Roman Empire

I looked up dandelion boys specifically for this fic and it turns out it means something along the lines of someone who has lived through great hardship and came out resilient and strong and I'm sobbing again

I don't want just this scene to be another post on its own so I'll save the rest of this for my eventual Matty deep dive but oh my god. Oh my god. The way he plays all of this. He wants to be a Brawler so bad but we all saw how happy he was on the river. I'm gunna cry again and I'm not joking this time. Oh my god.

Here it is, the moment that made me wanna do this series in the first place because I definitely didn't notice this the first time since Johnson was too hot. While Matty is getting the drinks, Johnson and Ethan grab some seats and sit down. Johnson is lighting a cigarette. Matty sits down with the drinks, Johnson is smoking throughout the whole scene, Meredith leaves, and then talks to Joel. Matty then talks to Ethan about her, now smoking, and Johnson is lighting another cigarette. Matty stole it from him instead of getting his own. They're married guys I'm not even kidding with this one.

Also I just love the insinuation of Johnson falling for all of them with no example from Matty, yet he's the only one who actually talks to a Pinup (cough Angel cough) at any point in the show. Gunna be a little full of myself for a second and say out of all the stuff I've written for the fic series so far, I feel like their talk on the car about love might be the closest to canon out of everything, it just feels right.

Okay first of all I love the little smile Ethan gives at their warning, what a sweet pea. Second there's Avron staring entirely at Matty again, just completely locked on. My god I need to know what their deal is you guys this is getting serious

He's not straight. This isn't a theory. I also think I was dead on with Matty only starting this conversation because he didn't like how he was talking to Ethan. Best way to get his attention away is to make him focused on Matty again after all

I really love the detail of Ethan trying really hard not to engage after getting involved with the asshole at the restaurant and him going so still the second he looks at Avron

His mouth was twitching again, he reached his breaking point with that one, he's not even looking at Ethan. Also lmao at Johnson looking like me the second I don't have my phone, and the cute lil spin in his chair I love him so damn much

This is another interesting shot to me, Matty is the one saying all this, and Johnson does a fake impressed whistle to go along with it, but Avron says 'that's right' to Johnson out of everyone there, like he should be impressed or something, you can see him look his way specifically, away from Matty and not to Ethan, I wanna know why they choose that direction (it's because I'm right and he's jealous)

This is so evil of Matty to reveal the Aunt V secret, look at how Avron's smile just falls because it's getting out, which is why I am constantly insisting that this runs deeper than jealousy because this is so incredibly personal, this one was made to hurt. Also in the og script they actually caught Avron getting a bj from a guy when they were on the river!

I'm crying again ;w; wonder why they went from this to something even worse? Probably because of all the violence everyone is about to lay out on this man heh me included

What did Avron do to make Matty say this??? What did he repeat that Matty must've told him??? Johnson is staring him down and agreeing with him too I'm gunna lose my mind!!!

Ethan coming in hot with the misdirection so he doesn't hurt Matty, Avron successfully reaching for him only for Matty to take it back, and those punches are not just jealousy again guys he's so fuckin mad here! He hurt him and Matty is hurting him back THIS IS KILLING ME

Once again Johnson is just sitting and watching back there. I mentioned it the first time I posted this scene a while back but I firmly believe he wasn't gunna let Joel throw him out, or maybe he knows that Joel actually wouldn't do that to begin with and this is just to scare him after acting out? The man really does have a soft spot for him so this wouldn't have been the end, he just needs to be grounded for the night and Johnson is aware of that. Obviously I wrote him right there trying to get Joel off cause the thought makes me cry, but I can just as easily picture them sitting outside afterward, Johnson just hands Matty a drink and they hang around all silent GAH I wanna write now but I can't until the weekend OTL

This isn't an observation. I do love how Ethan stands his ground cause we all know he isn't fragile, but jesus christ if anyone grabbed me like that I'd fold so fuckin fast 😳 On another note, it's probably intentional but I really thought Joel was Meredith's dad by this point lol so I had to make Ethan say just that in the fic

This is another interesting shot because Meredith comes into focus and waves of course, but that's also when Matty and Johnson come into focus as well ;w; he could very much be looking at them and then notice that she was there too (which is how I wrote it) just as much as him looking at her while they happen to be walking by, but of course my bet's on the former cause I love them. I'm also madly in love with the track that plays during this scene it's so damn good

They're looking at each other in the mirror 😭 and Matty was already looking before Ethan I can't take thiiiis

It's the end of the first episode are they trying to kill everyone watching?? Cause that certainly nearly happened to me when I saw Johnson looking like this godDAMN also Matty in a tie is the cutest thing I've ever seen I love how all three of them dress so much 🥰

And that's it for episode 1! I used up almost/all my pics/gifs in all three of these and I could've used so many more just on those Matty scenes, thankfully not as much happens in the future so I should be good sans probably the finale which might need two or more depending on how much I cry over the big reveal ;w; ❤️💛💙