#she underestimates it every woman is fuming at her

[softquietsteadylove]

HI!!!

it’s been a long time since the last doctor au. Can we get something new, please?

Thena eyes the woman chatting up her Gilgamesh. He's making friendly conversation, she knows. But the woman is obviously aiming for more than just friendly, the way she keeps laughing and smiling and putting her hand on his arm.

She has no one to blame but herself, Thena knows. The hospital fundraiser has been scheduled for months, and she's the one insisting their relationship remain secret from their coworkers. And of course Gil agreed, because it's Gil.

But watching women be all over him all night has been one hell of a just desserts. She takes a sip of her drink. Gil catches her eye and makes a bit of a face. He shrugs, which fits into the woman's story enough that she doesn't notice. But he's apologising to her - Thena - for it.

But she has no one to blame but herself.

Maybe the secrecy is overrated. She looks over to the dance floor, where Sersi is happily tucked into her husband's embrace as they sway to the music. They seem to make it work. Thena doesn't know how someone as sweet as Sersi is with someone as bullheaded as the orthopaedic specialist himself. But maybe the same could be said of her and Gil.

Thena tosses back the last of her champagne and walks straight towards Gil's table. This is why people don't like her socially--she's overly direct, chilly, has no bedside manner when it comes to her colleagues. She stares at them, "mind if I cut in?"

"Uh, yeah?"

"Not at all," Gil smiles though, and it's all the assurance she needs. He even pulls out the chair next to him for her.

His visitor visibly and audibly scoffs and rolls her eyes. Thena thinks she recognises her from HR or accounting or some other level of administration. She gets up in a huff anyway. Thena seats herself, tugging her dress around without a thought to the delicacy of the material.

But Gil sorts out the skirt of it more nicely. He even lets his hand brush the side of her leg where the slit allows him to. He sneaks his eyes up to hers, "you look beautiful."

She's glad that woman got up in a huff as she feels her face warm up several degrees. "Nothing you haven't seen before."

Because he helped her get ready, after they'd had a few good rounds in her bed, and before arriving in separate cars. Still, he compliments her, because of course he does. He swirls his own champagne, looking quite smart in his dark green suit.

All the doctors are in tuxes, but she likes how this colour brings out his eyes.

"Are you making any good connections?" he asks, like any of their colleagues would. It's as much a night for them to have off as it is for them to schmooze wealthy benefactors into donating to the hospital.

"None," she deadpans, and he laughs from his belly in response. She loves his laugh. "You?"

He snorts and throws back the last of his flute. "No one even knows us."

"That's not true," she nudges his arm as she leans back in her chair in a very unladylike way. She gestures, "Kingo knows how to work a crowd."

True, the man of the hour is in the centre of a circle of people listening to his stories. She's quite sure he's trying to convince someone to write a medical drama about his stories as an EMT.

"Well, I'm no Kingo," Gil shakes his head at his partner, not that they would have him any other way.

Thena spares a furtive glance around them, although most have moved on from the tables to search for more finger food or hit the dance floor. She risks brushing her hand over his casually, "you're better."

Gil matches her energy, though, letting his hand cup hers for just as brief a moment, "you're in a good mood tonight."

She can say it's the booze, but she's only had the one glass. It's not to her taste, but it's part of the atmosphere. "When was the last time we got a night off to do this?"

He gives her a grin that's a little mischievous on the tail end. "Our first date?"

She looks away again, because sometimes these little moments still make her feel like she's liking him from afar again. "That was a good night."

"Our only date, in some ways," he corrects, although there's no malice or ill will behind it. Even though he would love to have more proper dates to their name as a couple.

Thena sighs, though, because he deserves that. He deserves to go wild to his romantic heart's desire, no matter how overwhelmed it makes her feel. She leans forward against the table, "Gil-"

"Oh, Gil!" a shrill voice singsongs over the music.

Thena scowls as her whole body knots up. His friend is back, and she's brought company. "Eros."

"Thena, darling, looking ravishing as always," the self-proclaimed 'god of love' himself grins at her. He is one of the doctors in a full blown tuxedo. "Gotten any donations?"

"No, no one donates to an emergency room unless it guarantees benefits to them personally." The two newcomers look at her uncomfortably but it's true; no one ever donates to the emergency room because it's for the public, not for the highest insured patients.

"Well, what if I make a donation?" Eros grandstands, putting on his most winsome smile and even reaching into his suit jacket pocket. Does he really have his checkbook just...in there?

Thena points, "admin will take it."

The woman gets tired of playing this game. She sidesteps Eros to put her hands on Gil's shoulders. "Oh, enough business! It's time for you two to take to the floor."

Gil just stares. Just because he's big doesn't mean he likes getting climbed on like a children's jungle gym. He shakes his head faintly at her; he's asking what to do.

Thena sighs. That's why she brought Eros with her; he's a distraction to keep her from stealing Gil's attention again. Stealing attention from her own partner is an amusing thought. But she hasn't had enough to drink for it to be thoroughly entertaining.

The woman backs up as she stands. She and Eros watch as Thena grasps Gil's tie, pulling it out from his suit jacket and using it to turn his head and drag his lips to hers. She even makes a dramatic little moan just for them.

Gil is happy to oblige. He responds, sliding his hands up her body in the way that's familiar to them. They were doing exactly this a few short hours ago. When they part he doesn't even look to see if their audience has stuck around. "Thought you'd never ask, honey."

Thena keeps her hold on Gil's tie as she moves towards the dance floor, abandoning her clutch on the table. There's nothing in it but her phone and, well, a few contraceptives (in case Gil got ahead of himself on the way home).

"Y'know, sweetie, I have no complaints," Gil voices as he closes the distance and fixes his tie again. "But you could just ask."

She sighs as they turn towards each other to dance properly. He pulls her against him as her temper simmers itself dry. "I got the feeling she wasn't going to take no for an answer."

"Well, she would have had to," he assures her, even as they begin swaying to the music. She doesn't really know how to dance, but he takes the lead, holding her hip and her hand out in his. "Although watching my girlfriend grab me like that will probably haunt her for a while."

"Good," Thena mutters darkly, still off-put by the memory of her latching onto Gil's shoulders (like she has any right).

"Are you sure?" he whispers, still holding his head up if she wants more discretion. "If she doesn't have everyone knowing before we leave for the night then Eros certainly will. I wouldn't be surprised if he's crying to HR right now."

She does laugh faintly at the mental image of Eros snotting and whining like the little boy he is. "We're technically in different departments."

Gil chuckles, "guess you're right. But I'm asking you."

He's asking if she really wants to go public, or if she wants to deny their claims to the very end. Because he'll be with her, if she does, because of course he will.

Gil is receptive as she leans up to kiss him again. Maybe she can - somewhat! - understand what people see in the romance of it all. Swaying to music, Gil's arms around her, kissing him without a care in the world. There is something that makes the pleasure centres in her brain explode with euphoria.

"I'll take that as a yes," he smiles at her, even swaying a little more in his elation.

She tries to keep her head held high instead of shrinking away from the people observing them during their own dances. She clears her throat, pretending she can't feel how hot the tips of her ears are. "If it keeps her off of you, then yes."

He bends his head down, kissing the side of her neck. But it's not any invitation to mischief or show of dominance. He emerges again and kisses her on the forehead. "Can I tell those orderlies that check you out all the time that you're my girlfriend, now?"

She smiles, because it's Gil, and their relationship is no different now than it's been for the past several months. "You don't tell them I'm your wife?"

"Oh, I do," he answers instantly, and now she laughs. And sometimes when she laughs, she catches him looking at her in a way that makes all of her insides feel like jello. "But everyone knows you're my wife. Not everyone knows you're my girlfriend."

That is true. They were long ago anointed work husband and work wife. People are used to it, and it somewhat muddies the waters on what their relationship to each other actually is. And Thena will not be un-muddying them any time soon.

She moves Gil's arm more around her for herself, tucking herself into his chest in a way that makes moving more awkward instead of easier. But he folds around her comfortingly, happy to shift from foot to foot rather than really dance. "Then all the world can know I'm your partner."

She sighs as he presses a kiss to the top of her head, "I like the sound of that."

There's no going back from this. She always says that their personal lives have no place in the hospital. But she can't think about any of that, drowning in the endorphins this one man overtakes her brain with every time he smiles. And she has no one to blame but herself.

[seeds-and-sins]

Light My Fire - Part Eight

Pairing: Ben "Soldier Boy" x Reader

Rating: M (Crude Language, Curse Words, Sexism, minor references to sex, WARNING: talks about death and self-harm)

Description: Phoenix tries to rectify the missing pieces within herself, but she struggles to figure out how.

Tagged: @tonixe@chernayawidow , @deans-spinster-witchs-favorites, @ophennie@virgoelf-blog , @my-obsession-spn, @capricxnt @demodemo909 @boywivlove

Song: Gypsy - Fleetwood Mac

"FUCK!" Homelander yelled, the tv remote broke in his closed fist. One of the flat screen televisions in the meeting room was set to channel 8 and Starlight was all over the news. Her little video had gone viral, her resignation given, Homelander thrown under the bus, this was all out war. Homelander was fuming, Ashley was gnawing her nails down to the skin, the Deep was posted at one of the chairs around the table, Agnes was sitting a few seats down from him sipping on a cup of coffee.

And you were standing there, arms crossed, staring blankly at the screen.

You were so tired. Physically, mentally, and emotionally drained from everything. Just from living really.

When was the last time you slept again?

"Okay!" Ashley squealed, "We'll fix this. We'll fix this. Please. Oh my god! Fuck!" Your eyes slid shut, her panicking died in your ears, the world silenced for a moment.

"Phoenix!" Your eyes shot open, Homelander was staring at you with a look of desperation plastered on his face. "What do we do?" Your hands tightened around your biceps and your teeth dug into your bottom lip. What do we do? More importantly, what should be done?

"We don't have time to worry about Starlight." Your voice came out hoarse, in a low whisper. The room fell quiet. "She has a loyal fan base, but they aren't as loyal as our people. I wouldn't worry about her." Homelander nodded virgorously, licking his lips. The desperation in his boyish eyes faded and what replaced it was a sharp coldness.

"You're right. We've got to find Soldier Boy."

"But we need to make a statement!" Ashley's shrill made you roll your eyes.

"Go take a fuckin' Xanax, Ashley!" You commanded, holding up an admonishing finger. Ashley's lips shut with a resounding pop and she straightened, fear crawled up her spine and glued her to the floor. "I'll talk. I know how to charm a crowd. It'll put this off until we can get shit under control." Your command came out more as a question, Homelander's jaw flicked from side to side before he nodded. "Come on Agnes." The older woman rose from the table without protest, following after your quick strides with a waddle of her own.

...

"Good Evening!" You crowned your fingers and propped them up on the podium. "I appreciate you all being here for this impromptu press conference. Given the situation, I'm sure you know there are a few things that Vought needs to address."

"Where's Homelander?" A journalist shouted from the crowd, flapping his hand above the sea of heads to get Phoenix's attention.

"Homelander is off handling more important matters." The crowd broke out in shouted questions and mixed words, journalists reaching over eachother as they attempted to flag you down. You begrudgingly pointed at a woman in the front row.

"Isn't this important? Starlight has resigned? What is the future of the Seven? Why are you up there when you're not even on the team?" It went silent as everyone waited for a response, or rather, a staccato of responses to answer a staccato of questions. You paused, thought about the significance of your next words, what they would mean. You found a camera and stared into it.

"I want to make myself very clear..." Your voice penetrated the air, the room was thick with the tone that every syllable carried. "Starlight isn't a priority. Everyday Homelander, I, and many other heroes are trying to keep you all safe. We fought overseas so that the super villain threat could be contained. I underestimated the enemy and now the super villain threat is here. Us heroes need to be doing our jobs, not starting petty battles over social media. If Starlight wants to play her games and spread her lies, slander us, she is welcome to do so. But Homelander and I are going to focus on what is important: your safety, your lives."

An intense stillness blanketed the crowd, a few camera flashes. One journalist had the gull to raise their hand, when no one else would, not after a speech like that.

"What are your thoughts on the deathes of the TNT twins? Your former colleagues?"

Good. I'm glad they're dead.

"And your friend? Crimson Countess?" Your head tilted to the other voice, you swallowed and looked down at your fingers.

"Countess wasn't my friend, and neither were the Twins." You shook your head. "Not anymore at least. Not when they turned their backs on..." You paused. Me. -- Ben. "On you. The people. Some of the strongest heroes I knew for their time, and only Noir and I remain. The others worried about their luxury condos, their ratings, movie deals, royalties. None of them cared about what really matters. I don't mourn them. I don't think I ever will."

"But what of Soldier Boy? You were there when he died, did you mourn him?"

"I-" You had to take a deep breath, the emotions that swelled in you had nearly knocked you off your feet. You cleared your throat and held back tears. "I did. I do."

Soldier Boy was still dead to you.

"Soldier Boy died so that all of us could live."

...

 🎶 So I'm back to the velvet underground.  🎶 

 🎶 Back to the floor that I love... ��� 

Three Xanax, two blunts-going on three-and half a bottle of whiskey later, you found yourself laying on your bed in a mess of comforter and pillows. Your suit was discarded somewhere, leaving you down to nothing but your underwear. And you were just laying there, staring up at the ceiling as you smoked from a blunt and sipped from a bronze filled glass. Your record player sung in the background, mellowing out your already distant mood.

 🎶 To a room with some lace and paper flowers 🎶 

 🎶 Back to the gypsy that I was 🎶 

 🎶 To the gypsy that I was... 🎶 

What did you have?

John?

He kept you around as an extension of himself rather than as someone he cared for. You were the arms of his authority, fingers curled around your enemies with a vice grip. In reverse, he was a reflection of you in many ways, uncaring, erratic, impulsive. You knew he didn't care about you. Not truly. You weren't sure he was capable of it. Maybe with some admiration, some approval, but love was a distant thought in John's head. He only ever craved it from others. And you were more than able to provide in the past, giving pieces of yourself to John without a second thought. Now you had no more pieces left to give.

 🎶 And it all comes down to you. 🎶 

 🎶 And you know that it does when. 🎶 

 🎶 Lightening strikes maybe once maybe twice. 🎶 

Your fans?

You would rather burn them all alive, throw them in a furnace and walk away. They didn't love you. They loved the image of yourself that you fronted, but they didn't know you.

 🎶 Oh and it lights up the night. 🎶 

 🎶 And you see your gypsy (ohh, ohh) 🎶 

 🎶 You see your gypsy. 🎶 

You?

That was all you had. Herodom was a quiet life, a lonely one. But it was never about saving people or doing some good in the world. As much as Starlight thought she was making a difference, the world would never change. There would always be criminals. There would always be greedy politicans and corrupt agents of the law. The world was cold and callous and it never retreated.

And you had nothing.

You were a victim of the chaos. Vought took you in, molded you into something vile and morbid, tossed you around in a bag of salt, and hurled you into the world for their own profit.

You were an experiment.

Your lips wrapped around the end of your blunt and you took a drag. Smoke flowed from your nostrils, it floated up toward the high ceiling and you watched it swirl until it faded completely.

Your head drooped to the side and your face wrinkled as if you were about to cry, before you suppressed that urge.

 🎶 To the gypsy that remains. 🎶 

 🎶 Faces freedom, with a little fear. 🎶 

 🎶 I have no fear, and have only love. 🎶 

 🎶 And if I was a child and the child was enough. 🎶 

 🎶 Enough for me to love. 🎶 

 🎶 Enough to love. 🎶 

Through a blurry haze, your half lidded eyes spotted a figure at the open double doors leading into your bedroom. You shifted a little, squinted, then slowly sat upright.

"Ben?"

He was dressed in his full suit, arms straight at his sides.

"Hello, hot stuff." He answered casually, stepping closer. He sent you a boyish smile that reminded you of his older self, all cocky, all confident, all play, no work.

"What are you-" The blunt dropped from your hand, hitting the marble floor. "What are you doing here?" His eyes darted down your body, hovering over your naked torso a little longer than necessary before raising back to your face.

"You didn't need me?" You dropped your head, a firm hand cupped on your jaw, the touch burned into your skin and your gaze was being directed back to Ben. He felt so real. He felt solid. He felt tangible.

 🎶 She is dancing away from you now (Oooh). 🎶 

 🎶 She was just a wish, she was just a wish (ooh, ooh). 🎶 

 🎶 And her memory is all that is left for you now. 🎶 

"Am I hallucinating?" Your palms rested gently on his chest, Ben's thumb scaled your cheek and he sighed.

"No."

 🎶 You see you're a gypsy. 🎶 

"This is a dream, sweetheart."

"Of course it is," You sniffled.

"You wouldn't be able to hallucinate, even if you wanted." Another voice chimed and when you glanced over, it was Vogelbaum. "Your body can't sustain the affects of foreign substances long enough for that to happen." He was in a bloodied labcoat and his words were slightly muffled through a gas mask. Your expression lit up with panic and your head was being yanked back by Soldier Boy's hand.

"Don't pay attention to that piece of shit." Soldier Boy drew you closer with his other hand at your hip. "Just look at me."

"Why is this happening? Why am I dreaming about this?" You whispered, Ben's hand moved to cradle the back of your head.

"Because I'm the answer." You blinked at him, then tiredly moved into his body. Your arms wrapped around him and you hugged him. Ben enveloped you in return, his strong and bulky arms holding you close...

"You even smell real."

"That's what happens when you smoke a lot of dope."

"Also, the cannabis you were smoking no doubt contained traces of LSD." Vogelbaum again. You squeezed your eyes shut and Soldier Boy grunted when your arms tightened around him.

"Can he just shut up for fucks sake?" Soldier Boy inhaled deeply and he exhaled with a sigh.

"You want my advice?"

"Not really." He grabbed your shoulders and drew you away at arm's length.

"Sometimes you gotta take life by the balls, kid." You blinked at him, your head sinking toward your chest. Soldier Boy rolled his eyes before grabbing under your chin and lifting your head again. "Remember back in the day. We didn't let anybody get in our way. We owned this fuckin' place."

"Oh no." You breathed, your palms rose to your cheeks and Soldier Boy relinquished his hold on you so you could pace away from him. "It's happening. This is it. I'm having the worst mental breakdown of my life. I'm going to destroy the world."

"Only in theory." Vogelbaum piped in again, "Theoretically your body can reach temperatures bordering that of the sun and in that instance-" Soldier Boy's shield came hurtling toward him out of nowhere. The Scientist disappeared in a puff of smoke before the metal could touch him.

"I hate that guy." Soldier Boy's head tilted as he considered you. "Listen..." He emphasized with raised hands. "The only person who understands you right now is me." He stepped toward you, and you hunched in on yourself in defeat."You have me. I'm your answer."

"You're also a figment of my imagination."

"Nah, honey, I'm out there. I'm alive. Come find me."

"You want me dead out there." Soldier Boy's lips quirked up in a handsome smirk and he shook his head.

"But, sweetheart, I don't."

...

When your eyes opened, they opened slowly, the blunt had burnt out in your bed sheet and your body was sprawled out across the bed in all different directions. You blinked at the ceiling, thinking about your dream, thinking about him. The thought left a gross taste in your mouth, your stomach jumped and a weight settled in your chest.

Gosh, you wanted to die sometimes, didn't you?

What was this? What were you doing here?

Why don't you just leave and give all this up? Just like you always wanted.

Because you can't.

You were tired.

It took a few minutes of blank staring before you rose from your bed and travelled out of your room.

"God help me!" You heard a voice exclaim as you entered into the living room. It was Agnes. She made an effort to cover her gaze from your nude figure. And after all these years, she still hadn't gotten used to your ways. You squinted at her, stumbling toward the onset of the kitchen.

"What are you doing here? I told you to leave." Agnes nervously clenched and unclenched her fingers, finally lowering her hand to look at you. Your eyes connected, Agnus' wrinkles creased with a furrowed brow, with concern.

"Homelander wanted me to stay. He's worried about you." You groaned, pouring yourself another glass of whiskey and downing it back with a wince.

"I'm fine."

"You don't look fine." You poured the next glass, sipping from it as you held Agnus' expectant gaze.

"John just wants to make sure I'm on his side." You replied in a dull tone, hunching over the countertop.

"Are you?" You didn't respond. Not immediately. Your eyes flitted around the penthouse and you took in the expanse of space that had been your home for decades.

"Maybe I don't want to be on a side anymore, Agnes." You placed your glass down and stalked over to a wall that held various photos and movie posters and memories from the old days. You scanned each photo, as you had hundreds of times, with a trained eye.

"Please. Tell me what's wrong."

"Everything I do, it doesn't matter." Your eyes paused on a familiar face, and you felt a sadness engulf the entirety of your heart.

He was so good to you. Always trying to comfort you. Always at your side when you needed him.

"Do ya'maybe want to talk about it?"

"No."

You would go find him. That was final. You were sure of it. Screw everyone else. This man. He would be the one you went to. He was the one you needed. He would tell you what you needed to do and he would be genuine. Above all. He would be genuine.

"I'm heading out for a little bit, Agnes. Alone." You took quick steps toward your room.

"Wait, wh-where are you going? Homelander told me to watch you." You didn't respond, turning to close the double doors into your bedroom. At the last glimpse between the cracks, you saw her plop onto the couch with exasperation.

[rose-and-thorn-fanfics]

Kars x Fem! OC (Ivy Joestar) Part 3:

Kars remained an enigma in Ivy’s eyes, unpredictable with his words, and irresistible with his sexual advances. She often wondered if he was hiding something, and every once in a while he’d slip up and show affection like that night when he held her in his arms in his sleep. He (of course) played it off as “you were squealing in your sleep, woman. I had to shut you up somehow.” But she sensed that he enjoyed and cherished those moments of trust when he held her. Kars let her look at the stars a few more nights, and as thanks she would indulge his hedonistic tendencies.

The pillar-men had left one day (or night, Ivy was still unsure). And she laid in Kars bed, breathing in his lingering scent. He always smelled like warm amber and Mamey Sapote, an earthy and mildly sweet fruit she had tried once when she had followed her brother Joseph to Mexico. She hugged the pillow that Kars always slept on, hoping he’d walk through that doorway any minute now. She then heard the door unlocking, and the creak of it opening. She bolted upright, ready to greet Kars with the usual attentive nature. Instead, she was met with unexpected familiar faces.

“Jojo?” Ivy sputtered, shocked to see her twin there. And next to him was a tall dark haired woman with big earrings and a red scarf.

“That’s RIGHT! We are here to save your sorry ass!” Joseph exclaimed dramatically.

“This is your sister?” The tall woman asked, somewhat incredulous.

“yeah, or as I like to call her—“ Joseph started.

“-You!!!! Y-You SERIOUSLY can’t be here right now!” Ivy interrupted,her voice getting higher with both frustration and fear. “Lord Kars could come back at any moment a-and he isn’t to be underestimated!”

“I bet I could take him in a fight,” Joseph said cockily, crossing his arms. “Lisa Lisa over here has been training me in Hamon skills!”

The dark-haired woman frowned. “Ivy is right, the pillar men are stronger than you can imagine and Kars is especially to be taken seriously as he is their leader. Let’s go, Joseph.” She walked towards the bed where Ivy was sitting and grabbed her arm, ready to yank her out from under the sheets. Ivy flinched and recoiled, her worry turning to embarrassment as she knew the sheets were the only thing covering her nakedness from this “Lisa Lisa” and her brother. “I-I’m not…. wearing anything, and you two are in more trouble if you take me away from Kars.” Ivy squeaked, embarrassed and desperate to get them to leave. “Please go!”

Joseph Joestar’s goofy demeanor changed to vengeful anger when he realized what Ivy’s words and lack of clothes implied. “He-heeeeeeeee! What?!!!!” Joseph fumed.

Lisa Lisa seemed to understand the urgency. “We are going NOW, Joseph. You are not ready to fight Kars! And you!” She looked at Ivy. “You are coming with us.”

“But—“ Ivy searched for words that wouldn’t betray her feelings for the leader of the pillar-men while still emphasizing that she wanted to stay. Unfortunately, she came up empty. Lisa Lisa grabbed her by the arm, wrapping her in the sheets like a bath robe and dragging her out the door with surprising strength.

Ivy struggled hard, but eventually complied when Lisa approached the car parked outside. Ivy was shoved into the cab, and Joseph followed, muttering venomous words about Kars. Lisa Lisa got in the front seat and sped off, probably breaking every traffic law in Italy. They ditched the car at some point in Venice, taking a small motorboat to a secluded island. Ivy was silent the whole time, stomach burning with anxiety. She hoped they weren’t being followed…. At least… that’s what she told herself. ‘For Jojo’s sake… I don’t want Kars and the other pillar men to fight him.’ But her heart wished for a way to teleport back into Kars’ bed. ‘What a mess….’ Ivy thought.

On the secluded island, Ivy was led through the front gates of a fort-like structure and immediately handed clothes by a blonde woman in a maids uniform. Ivy found a bathroom and changed, but only after sulking. She heard a sharp knocking on the bathroom door.

“Still using it!” Ivy replied, although all she was doing was crying quietly as she sat on the marble counter.

“Don’t care. I need to talk to you, Ivy Joestar.” Lisa Lisa’s voice came from the other side of the door. “I need to know what went on while you were being held captive.”

Ivy slid off the edge of the counter and opened the door with irritation. “Why?” She frowned, looking directly into Lisa Lisa’s icy blue eyes.

The raven-haired woman didn’t flinch. “We need all the information we can get about these pillar men.” She said calmly.

Ivy’s cheeks turned red. She got the feeling she was going to have to tell… everything. Lisa Lisa wasn’t about to let her off the hook.

So she did. And when she’d told all there was to tell, in gratuitous detail, she felt somewhat relieved. But Lisa Lisa? The woman looked pissed.

“You’re telling me you were essentially used as… some sort of whore? Repeatedly? By Kars? Not the others? Just their leader…..”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t against my will…. I…” Ivy felt backed into a corner with the way Lisa Lisa was looking at her.

“You…?”

“I love him.” Ivy sniffled, wiping under her eyes with her wrist to stop the tears from pouring.

“You…. Love Kars.” Lisa pursed her lips together and a a shadow fell over her expression. “Ivy…. What you’re feeling isn’t love. He manipulated you, and now you’re confused.”

“That’s not true!” Ivy snapped back. “Lord Kars wouldn’t waist his time manipulating or deceiving me… he… I think it’s mutual. He just shows love differently.”

“You poor thing.” Lisa Lisa said icily. “You’re really that blind? I never expected to see…. you be foolish like this, Ivy. Not to this extent.”

Ivy shook her head, confused and upset by Lisa’s demeanor. “You just met me a little over an hour ago! Besides! What do you care? It’s not like you’re my mom. Quit being so judgmental. Geez.” Ivy huffed.

Lisa’s eyes widened momentarily, taken aback by Ivy’s comment. Then her expression returned almost robotically to being blank and unreadable. She turned around, and stormed off, her heels clicking on the tiles of the fortress. Ivy burst into tears.

Little did she know… Lisa Lisa was also crying, alone in her bedchambers.

“Ivy….” Lisa whispered shakily. “If only it didn’t endanger you to know the truth. Is this my fault? For not being there to raise you? My daughter… my precious, foolish child.” She wept.

Thanks for reading! Reblogs are appreciated!

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[hopepaigeturner]

What makes Sophie a good character? Why is it that her being a Cinderella arc type has some go Do not like?

Good questions! I'm gonna assume these are off the back of my Sophie Beckett & Female Power mini essay.

In my opinion, the reason why Book!Sophie is a good character is that, while there are certainly some parts that make me feel icky, ultimately JQ nailed down one of the most important parts of the Cinderella archetype. And that is Sophie 'saves herself' and in the book this is shown through Posy. Posy who goes out of her way to free Sophie, becuase of Sophie's kindness to her. Sophie's kindness led to Posy's bravery which led to Sophie being free. And so the Cinderella archetype, done well, is a good balance between an empowered heroine who uses compassion, hope and the bond she establishes, to create her own happily ever after. And for me that is a refreshing take on feminitiy among hollywoods 'girl bosses'.

A lot of people don't like the Cinderella archetype because they view it as Cinderella is saved by a man. And oh my word! That sets the feminist movement back 50 years! But such a mindset skates over how it is Cinderella's hope and kindess that saves her, and her character that makes the prince fall in love. Such a mindset ensures that the male character has no journey to go on, no way to prove his love or care for the heroine.

Such a mindset also stems from this perception in hollywood that strong women = women that do things by themselves. Which is alright...overused...but also flawed.

Because what the world needs, what humans need to thrive is unity. Change only happens when people are unified together. It is interdependence; AKA people being their own person but supporting each other to achieve the life that is best for them and others.

And that should not be demonised! It should not be a flaw or anti-feminist for a woman to get help. Women are not weaker when they have help, for when they are unified--they are strong! Cinderella is strong because she clings to hope and kindness, two beacons of light that the world sorely underestimates but sorely need. Cinderella is strong because she saves herself through the bonds she establishes--as does Sophie Beckett.

We need more women who show strength in the subtle ways, in the ways that every woman has--not just in their articulate rants against the patriarchy, or the fact they can punch a man double their height.

And that is why Sophie is awesome. And I'll be utterly fuming if the show reduces her to a 'girlboss' because 'Cinderella is not a good role model'.

*~*~*~*~*

Ok...so this went on longer than I was expecting...did that answer the question?

I would recommend everyone to go watch Enola Holmes 2 because it showcases this point so well.

As always do send asks along--I promise they won;t all turn into this long a splurge 😂😂 (unless you want it to 😉)

[dumdumsun]

The Loveliest Lies of All

A/N: Accidentally made this the longest chapter in the entire story. Oops ❤️

Warnings: slight violence

Word Count: 5282

—————————————

Chapter Three: Schooltown Follies

“I don’t know who she is or how she is, or when or why she is

But as for where she is, she is where we will go

To Adelaide, to Adelaide

Come on and join the Adelaide Parade-”

“No-”

“Adelaide, to Adelaide

Let’s go to Adelaide’s house…”

Greg’s joyful marching melted into a simple walk at the flat ending of his song, glancing up at Scout with raised brows. “I need to fix that last part, but that’s the idea.”

“Yeah, of course.” Scout chuckled.

“So,” He pointed to each person as he addressed them. “Beatrice, you sing the high part. Wirt, you sing the really high part.”

Wirt raised a brow. “What?”

“And Scout will direct us.”

Scout hummed with squinted eyes. “Conduct.”

“Scout will conduct us. And-”

Beatrice sighed irritably, causing Scout to frown in confusion. “No one is singing anything anymore. And Wirt, keep moving.”

The group turned to said teen, who had stopped a few paces away to kneel down, tying the laces of his mismatched shoes. “But I-I have to- ugh. Alright…” He stood to his feet defeatedly and joined them again.

“But we have to do something fun.” Greg insisted.

“You know, we really don’t,” Beatrice shrugged. “We can just keep walking silently, you know? And- ugh. Wirt, let’s go! Come on!”

Wirt stood to his feet again. “Sorry, sorry!”

Scout’s irritation towards their winged companion only seemed to grow the more she watched Beatrice push her friends around. Personally, she was not a fan of Debby Downers, and Beatrice happened to be the downest Debby she’d ever met in a short amount of time. Greg tried to insist on the group having fun on their journey yet again, but the bird cut him off. “Greg, don’t you wanna be more like your brother? Just always doing what you’re told-”

“Huh-”

“Just a pathetic pushover who relies on others to make all his decisions?”

“Hey! What?! I’m not a pushover.”

“Hold on, Wirt. Let me get to my point.”

Wirt scoffed, unsuspecting. “Fine.”

“See, Greg? No willpower whatsoever.”

Embarrassed to have been so gullible, Wirt turned forward with a huff. Scout sighed and moved closer to the boy’s side. “Greg, don’t listen to her. I think it’s important you have fun on this journey,” Her eyes then snapped up to Beatrice. “And you shouldn’t discourage a child like that.”

Beatrice rolled her eyes. “He needs to learn from a young age that he can’t be like… this forever.”

“Like what? Like a normal, sweet, loving kid? A-And what do you even know about kids, huh?”

“What do you know about kids?”

“I know enough.” Scout crossed her arms and turned her head forward.

Sighing, Beatrice flew to the boy’s other side. “The world is a miserable place, Greg. I know it doesn’t sound fun, but life isn’t fun.”

Exhaling deeply, Greg frowned sadly. “Then I’ll do what I need to do, I guess…”

As Beatrice continued on whatever negativities she had focused so intently on, Scout felt a tug at her jacket. Glancing down, she saw Greg standing still, holding the tea kettle on his head, his frog lounging on top. Slowing her pace to a stop, she quietly joined him. “Greg? What’s wrong, bud?”

He grinned and took one hand off his “hat”, slipping his fingers between hers and leading them through an opening within the woods. “We need to do our part to make the world a better place!”

“We couldn’t have at least told Wirt? He’ll be worried about you.” She glanced over her shoulder, Wirt’s figure growing smaller the farther they ran. Greg hummed before shrugging.

“Wirt trusts you, right? He knows we’re in the best hands in the whole world.”

“Oh? You mean these hands?!” Scout mischievously grinned and scooped him into her arms, huffing as she struggled to keep the giggling boy up. Perhaps she had underestimated his weight. It had been awhile since she’d carried him.

Greg cackled, holding his frog close to his chest before his eyes caught something in the distance. “Whoa! What’s that?” He pointed forward. Scout’s laughter quieted as they reached a clearing. Stepping out of the shadowed wood, she moved closer to the small red house, a giant bell hanging above it to alert those around of the time.

“Ah, this, Greg, is a schoolhouse. The oldest of these date back to-”

“School?!” He scoffed. “Not today!”

Scout chuckled and set him down on his feet. “Well, I think we should check it out. If you hate school that much, go find a log to sit on and wait for me.”

“Yes, sir!”

He saluted before scampering off. She watched him for just a second to make sure he hadn’t tripped and fallen before turning back to the schoolhouse. From where they had just come from, she could hear Wirt’s calls. “Greg! Scout! Greg?!”

“Over here!” She called back, smiling softly as he and Beatrice emerged from the darkness. She pointed off to the side as they approached her. “Hey, so Greg went that way to find a place to wait. He’ll be fine. But I do wanna check out this place. You know, maybe find someone else to help us sooner than some rando lady with supposed powers?”

Scout ignored the glare Beatrice sent her way. Wirt only blinked at her, so she continued. “Anyway, we only need one person to go in. Which one of us should go inside and who should stay with Greg?”

Yet again, she received no response, just a blank stare from her friend. Glancing between him and the bird, the latter only shrugging, Scout rapidly blinked. “What is this? Why are you staring at me like that? Is this a game?”

…..

“Okay, Greg will be fine. Let’s both go.” She threw her hands up in the air before spinning on her heel and leading them up to the schoolhouse. “But you’re gonna need to talk soon.”

As if that had flipped a switch, Wirt nodded and strode to her side. “Right. Okay.”

Scout widened her eyes at him as they stood in the opened doorway of the house. Tearing her gaze from him, she settled it on the room inside. Standing in front of a blackboard decorated with delicate and cursive calligraphy was presumably the teacher, her cheeks red and rosy and the nest of chocolate brown hair was put into a bun at the top of her head. She looked something straight out of a children’s book. Before her was the… class.

They were animals. Literal animals in school clothes. Cats, bunnies, pigs, dogs, the likes, all dressed as 1800’s school students. In fact, Scout observed, every stop they made felt as if they had travelled two hundred years back. The attire, the lack of technology, the use of language. It was all a dead giveaway.

“Excuse me?” The teacher softly called. “Please, take your seat, children. You’re late. You know the rules, ‘Once the bell has rung, class has begun’.” She gestured to the saying on the board.

Beatrice snickered. “Oh, sorry, everybody. Sorry. No, this boy doesn’t have a brain. He can’t learn anything. Let’s go, Wirt. Come on! Here, boy!” She called and whistled to Wirt as if he were a dog. Scout fumed at the nerve of this bird, opening her mouth to tell her off before Wirt spoke up for himself.

“What? Did you say something? I can’t hear you because I’m too busy doing what I’m told.” He shrugged before walking into the room, taking a seat at one of the desks.

“Atta boy, Wirt.” Scout chuckled and took the seat beside him.

Beatrice hurriedly flew over to him. “What? What are you- No, no. Let’s go.”

“Oh, no. See, I’m a pushover, remember? I have to do what she tells me to do.” He shrugged. Beatrice widened her eyes and turned to Scout.

“Hello?! Knock some sense into his conehead!”

Scout quietly shushed her, her amused smile directed forward at the blackboard. “I’m trying to focus on class.”

“Wirt, your brother could be… in trouble somewhere!”

Tapping on the window just beside Wirt gained the trio’s attention. Greg stood outside, as happy as can be, waving at them with a smile. Then, in a mocking manner, he pointed to each “student” in the room before giving a thumbs-down. Scout lovingly shook her head as he giddily ran after his croaking frog, cheering and whooping as he went. Beatrice let out a deep and long sigh. “Bluebirds have a short lifespan. You three are literally killing me every moment I’m forced to spend with you.”

Scout quietly laughed when Wirt simply let out an “oh”.

“Young man,” The teacher sternly started. “I will not stand for such nonsense in my class room,” A shadow casted over her face as her expression turned gloomy. “I got enough nonsense from that no good, two-timing, low-down handsome man of mine! Oh, Jimmy Brown, why did you have to leave me so-”

Wirt and Scout glanced at each other as if to ask if this were actually happening.

“-And now with my father threatening to close the school and that wild gorilla on the loose, why, Jimmy, I just have one thing to say…”

What they hadn’t expected was for her to turn around with a bright smile and begin singing,

“‘A’ is for the apple that he gave to me, but I found a worm inside.”

Beatrice didn’t bother lowering her voice, “Ouf, that lady’s got some baggage.”

“What’s that?” The woman abruptly stopped her singing and pointed to a slim and tall box with one small opening in the corner of the room. “Young man, go to the dunce box!”

“Oh,” Wirt glanced down before standing to his feet. “Sure, okay! Sure!”

Scout watched her friend hum to himself as he situated himself into the box, closing the door to seal himself in. She furrowed her brows as Beatrice facepalmed. “And you’re not gonna stop him?!”

“No, he can do what he wants,” Scout shrugged. “This lady’s no help, anyway, so I’ll wait until he’s done here.”

“Now, where were we? Oh, yes- ‘G’ is for the gentleman I thought he was, when he first said ‘hi’-”

The young girl stood from the desk. “I’ll just wait outside. Tell me when the dunce is released or whatever.”

“Wait!” The bluebird called out. “Don’t leave me here with him!”

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

Greg and his frog found themselves amongst a racoon, a possum and a deer, all dressed in tattered clothing. Some of them were missing buttons, they had badly stitched patches, and their clothing was either baggy or too tight on them. They looked the part of unschooled street rats -- street… animals, and Greg had befriended them almost immediately. Currently, they were all sitting on a log, just as Scout had asked of him, as the boy rambled on and on to the verbally unresponsive animals. “So, my theory is hot dogs are not actually dogs, regardless of what they teach you in school. But you guys don’t go to school, huh? I’m gonna stick with you guys.” He whispered, laughing when his racoon friend picked up a black turtle and chucked it into the nearby pond.

“Hey, you found a log!” The voice of Scout caused Greg to perk up and crane his neck. The two shared a grin as she joined the group on the log, hesitating slightly upon noticing the company. “Who… are these guys?”

“Scout! These are my new friends!” The boy turned to the animals and gestured to her. “Gentlemen, this is Scout. She’s probably the smartest person in the world. Who needs school when you have Scout, huh?”

She snorted and set a hand atop his hat. “What is this, the Anti-School Club?”

“Huh… Yeah! That’s a great club name! Good job, Scout! And as founder of the ASC, I elect you president.”

“What an honor.”

“So, Ms President, what is your first order of business?”

Scout hummed in thought as she kicked her feet back and forth, tilting her head up to the bright blue sky. “Well, Ms Langtree is still singing her sorrows away, and Wirt is still being a dunce… So, I guess we just kill some time until he’s done.”

Greg nodded in satisfaction and snapped his fingers. “Perfect. And I know just the way to spend our killing time,” He hopped off of the log with a smile. “We play ‘Two Old Cat’! Me and Scout came up with it last year. It’s the best game ever created! Do you guys know how to play ‘Two Old Cat’?”

When the raccoon only blinked in response, Greg pulled Scout with him to a bush. “It’s fun. We’ll show you.”

“Be careful.” She warned and crouched down to help him carefully pull out a scraggly brown cat, surely blind in one eye. It meowed as the boy gently petted its dirty fur. Standing straight, she walked over to a tree and leaned against it to rest her throbbing leg.

A weak meow had her turning her head in the direction of the deer that had just picked up another cat. This one wore reading glasses and clutched a small walking cane in one of its paws. Greg frowned at this. “Wait. No. I think that cat is too old. What do you think, Scout?”

“Hm… Yeah, he’s too old. But we should at least feed the poor thing-”

“Hey! I think there’s one behind you!”

Scout twisted her body to peer into a bush behind her. She spotted a heap of dark black fur that rose and fell with raspy breathing. A pit formed in her stomach as she cautiously reached her hand into the bush. Just as her fingertips brushed the fur, the figure shot up to reveal itself as a gorilla. A pathetic roar sounded past its sharp teeth, yellow eyes staring into hers. Scout frightfully screamed and scrambled to her feet.

“Gorilla!” Greg waved his arms before he was being pushed forward by his friend.

“Go! Run!” She ordered, quickly leading Greg and the animals away from the gorilla that now began to chase them. “Keep going this way! I’ll distract it!”

Greg gasped. “Scout, no-”

“Just go! Go!”

The small group ran towards the schoolhouse, Scout huffing out a breath before turning back to the incoming gorilla. “Hey, ya big dummy! Come and get me!” She waved her arms wildly, darting off in the opposite direction of the schoolhouse. The gorilla growled quizzically before rushing after her. Despite the hot pain in her thigh, spreading past her knee, Scout managed to reach a tree, wrapping her arms and legs around it. She used her feet to hoist herself up, grabbing onto branches to pull her body farther up the tree. She cried out in shock when she felt a tug at her shoe.

Whipping her head around, she saw the gorilla trying to pull her off. Using her free leg, the injured one, she brought her knee close and then kicked her foot out, slamming it into the gorilla’s head and causing him to stumble back.

The tolling of a bell rang from above. Scout sat upon one of the branches and tilted her chin up to see Greg and the animals in the bell tower, swaying back and forth on the bell they desperately clung to. Her heart dropped at the sight. “What the- Greg! Get down from there now! S-Safely! Get down safely right now!”

Noticing the bell tower gang, the gorilla roared again and charged its way in their direction.

“No!” Scout wailed, quietly cursing to herself as she attempted to climb down the tree. Her uninjured leg slipped off the branch, eliciting a yelp from her as she clung to the wood, since her life quite possibly depended on it. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.”

“Scout!” She heard Greg call. Tilting her head back, her upside-down vision saw the gorilla chasing them towards the tree she dangled from. “We’re here! We’re here!”

“What the heck is even going on?!” She shouted as the gorilla rounded the tree over and over in the chase. Scout closed her eyes and inwardly wondered for a second if she were living in a cartoon at this point. Her body instinctively flinched when she felt scratching at her shin. It was the possum, holding a large, thick stick in his tiny hands. “Uh- hey. C-Can you help me?”

He blinked and stood on his hind legs, demonstrating a few swings with the stick before pointing down to the gorilla below them. Her eyes widened in realization. “O-Oh, you want me to knock him out?”

He nodded.

“Okay.” She let him slip the stick into one of her hands. Very quietly muttering to herself, she allowed her arm to leave the branch and dangle just above the gorilla’s head. Each time it ran near her, she would take a swing, but miserably miss just by an inch. Swing after swing, she let out little grunts and curses when she missed.

Sighing irritably, she moved her eyes up to the possum, who stared at her in exasperation. As if the solution were obvious, it used both its hands to demonstrate a very harsh swing, stumbling around to mock the gorilla. Inhaling deeply, she reared her arm towards her chest before bringing down the branch and connecting it with the gorilla’s head.

“Aah!” He groaned before falling to the ground, unmoving. Greg peeked from behind the tree and grinned up at her.

“Scout! You did it!”

She blinked. “I did… Hey! I did it! I did it- Aah!” She cried out when the branch broke from the tree, Scout letting go out of shock and barreling to the ground. When she landed on her back, the air was knocked out of her, forcing a choked gasp from her chest. She groaned in pain and rolled onto her side, her entire body pulsing in pain. She could hardly hear the hurried footsteps over the ringing in her head.

“Are you okay?! Scout?! Did you knock out all your memories and give yourself amnesia?!”

“Ugh… W-What…?” She rasped and let Greg help her stand. He watched carefully as she stumbled forward, holding onto the tree for support.

“Come on,” He put a hand on her back and handed the top hat to her. “We gotta go.”

After leading the group into the school and past Ms Langtree to the dining area, Greg slowly sat Scout at the picnic table beside Wirt. The teen frowned worriedly at his friend as she groaned. “Greg? What happened to Scout?”

The boy peered up at his brother. “She fell out of a tree after knocking out the gorilla.”

“She what?!”

“Are you okay?!” Beatrice widened her eyes.

“She’s like a superhero. But now she needs rest. I think she might have gotten amnesia. Oh! That means we need to remind her of all our good times, Wirt! Good times!”

Wirt gingerly touched the back of her head, flinching when she hissed in pain. “I-I-I-I’m sorry. D-Does it hurt? I mean- I mean… uh-”

“I’m okay,” She whispered, placing her top hat on her head. “I think I just need to rest…”

“Yeah! Get your energy! You’re gonna need a lot of it for the trip down memory lane!” Greg scooped a spoonful of mashed potatoes and shoveled it into her mouth. Scout cringed at the bland tastelessness of it and took a sip of water. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s very bland. No taste.”

Greg hummed and assessed the room around him, watching the dismal and cheerless expressions of the animal students as they brooded over their plates of potatoes. He gasped when his eyes caught an object on the piano Ms Langtree currently played a melancholy tune on, no doubt feeding into the somber mood.

Wirt hardly noticed his brother shuffle away from the table as he picked up his spoon. “It can’t be that bland, can it?”

“Hey, nobody ordered you to eat yet.” Beatrice cut in.

“Yeah, but… Hm.”

Scout raised a brow at the pair. “Wirt, eat your bland potatoes.”

He sent a grateful smile her way. “Sure.”

Beatrice rolled her eyes. “You’re no fun…” She mumbled, scrunching up her beak at the forced smile Scout gave her. The trio jumped at the sound of wild, clashing, tuneless notes on the piano coming from Greg. Ms Langtree softly smiled and took over, playing a much more pleasant swing song. Greg’s face dropped his smile for a beat before giving a thumbs-up and climbing on a chair to grab the container of molasses. Bouncing to the beat of the song, he began to sing.

“Oh, potatoes and molasses

If you want some, oh just ask us

They’re warm and soft like puppies and socks

Filled with cream and candy rocks!”

As he sang, he pranced around the room, adding just a bit of molasses to each plate to add a bit more cheer to everyone’s hearts.

“Oh, potatoes and molasses

They’re so much sweeter than algebra class

If your stomach is grumblin’ and your mouth starts mumblin’

There’s only one thing to keep your brain from crumblin’!

Oh, potatoes and molasses

If you can’t see ‘em, put on your glasses

They’re shiny and large like a fisherman’s barge

You know you eat enough when you start seein’ stars!”

Absentmindedly, Scout tapped her spoon against her glass to the beat of the song. A wide smile spread across her face when she noticed Wirt doing the same. And as if on cue, the animals all joined in the song with their instruments. The sight and sound of this made Scout feel at home. Music was her life and band was a great part of it.

“Oh, potatoes and molasses

It’s the only thing left on your task list

They’re short and stout to make everyone shout

For potatoes and molasses!

For potatoes and-”

“That’s enough!”

The door to the dining area burst open along with the booming voice. In the doorway was a tall figure, decked out in a large black trench coat and top hat, much shinier than Scout’s. His pale skin complexion stood out against his all-black attire. His greying hair peeked from under his hat, his dark eyes were hidden behind his circular prescription glasses, and his thick lips were curled into an upset frown. “Is this what I’ve been paying for?!”

“Hey!” Greg defended from where he stood on the table. “We just wanted to have a little fun.”

“I didn’t invest in this school to have fun,” He then marched over to Ms Langtree, who cowered under his scorn. “I thought we were trying to do important work here, teaching animals to count and spell.”

“We are!” Ms Langtree whined. “Oh, please, Father, don’t close the school! It won’t happen again!”

But he only walked past her. “I should say it won’t,” As he passed the animals, he snatched their instruments from them, definitely not forgetting to send a glare towards the three human children. “This… this… and this are all coming with me. Now send them to bed!”

“You heard father,” Ms Langtree sadly motioned to another room. “Off to bed with you.”

In a single-file line, the children, human and animal, trudged into the room filled with well-made beds, one for three students maximum. On the way, they were each given a nightgown, Scout choosing to just throw hers on over her clothes along with her friends. “Wirt,” She whispered. “Are we seriously doing this?”

“Whatever you want, Scout. D-Don’t you need rest anyway? You look like you hit your head pretty hard.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right…” She climbed into bed with Greg, his frog nestling under the blanket between them. Scout took their hats off and set them off to the side, frowning at the boy’s pout. “What’s on your mind, Gregory?”

Said boy tore his eyes away from the saddened animal folk. “I just wanted to have fun, change the world, and make it a better place.”

“Who says you didn’t?” She hummed and began tucking him in.

“You probably forgot because of your amnesia. I just made everything worse, Scout. Look at them…”

Scout glanced over her shoulder at the animals who were now sniffling and sighing to themselves. Exhaling through her nose, she turned back to the boy. “You know, changing the world isn’t easy, Greg. And you won’t get it right the first time. But you know what?” She gently pressed her lips to his forehead. “You change my world for the better everyday.”

“Really?”

“Really, really.”

“So, you remembered our good times! You’re cured!”

From between them, the frog croaked, causing the two to giggle. From the bed beside them, Wirt softly smiled at the interaction, his heart warming as well as his cheeks. Beatrice watched him with narrowed eyes. “Okay, Wirt, I’ll admit it. You seem like a pushover, but you’re not.”

“Oh?” He shifted his gaze to her.

“Deep down in your heart… you’re a stubborn jerk! When are you gonna give this up?!”

Wirt stared forward with a determined look. “Maybe never. Maybe I’ll never give this up.”

Greg hummed before pushing the blanket off of he and Scout, the girl quietly groaning to herself. “Yeah! Wirt’s right! Never give up!” He cheered before grabbing his sheets and tying the ends together, throwing them out the window. “C’mon! Let’s go save the day!”

“Okay, if you say so,” Wirt left his bed, halting at his friend, who painfully sat up and turned to assist Greg. “W-Wait, w-what about Scout?”

Her head slowly turned to him. “What about me?”

“You’re hurt.”

“You know what? I order you to stop being such a Worry Wirt.” She playfully rolled her eyes. He sputtered for a second before giving in and following her out of the window.

After discarding their nightgowns, the gang wandered the blackened wood, the hooting of an owl being their only source of sound beside the three sets of feet shifting through the grass. Scout wrapped her arms around her sore body for warmth. From beside her, she felt Wirt fix her hat that had been leaning atop her head. She glanced at him with a thankful smile, sending heat to his cheeks and then to hers in turn. Clearing his throat, Wirt looked to his brother. “So, what’s the plan, Greg?”

“Plan?”

Scout tilted her head. “Yeah. You need to plan to change the world, bud.”

“Oh. I don’t know.” He shrugged.

Just then, a pitiful moan sounded from behind a bush. “Oh, who would’ve thought making a primer school for animals was a bad idea?”

Upon parting the bush, the three quietly gasped at the sight of Mr Langtree crouching on the ground, surrounded by the instruments he had confiscated, talking to himself. “My life savings, my home, everything I had went into that dear, dear school. And now I’m forced to sell these instruments just to keep it open,” As he continued, he removed his trench coat to reveal a quite scrawny man underneath the threatening facade, using his coat and a trumpet to act as a sorry tent. “All the while, that loathsome Jimmy Brown is off galavanting who knows where! Not to mention that wild gorilla on the loose. If only something would go right for a change…” He defeatedly sighed as he laid on the ground.

Soon, the sound of his snores filled the area. Scout hummed and shook her head. “Poor guy…”

“Yeah,” Greg nodded. “Okay, I think he’s asleep. Let’s go steal his stuff.”

Wirt, Scout and Beatrice widened their eyes. “What?”

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

As the sun emerged and the mildew leaked from the trees, Scout checked every last detail of the area before nodding to herself. Throughout the night, Greg, Wirt and Beatrice helped build a stage and notified anyone around of their benefit concert as Scout gathered the animal students to quickly learn a single song on their instruments. The work was tiring, but nothing she wasn’t used to. Rounding the front of the stage, she found Greg waiting for her, holding a baton for her. “There you are! It’s time to do what you were born to do! Do it for the world, Scout!”

“Alright, alright.” She chuckled and took the baton into her hand. Facing the band, she raised her arms in front of her, commencing the song. Her heart swelled with pride as the students played along perfectly. A joyful laugh bubbled in her throat as her arms waved and glided through the air to cue entrances and cut-offs. From the corner of her eye, she spotted people, apparently wealthy by their fine clothes and generous donations, trickling in from wherever they came from and dumping their purses and pockets clean into buckets provided. Her grin widened as they stopped beside the stage to stand and enjoy the beautiful music.

Her smile dropped when the students slowly halted their playing. “Guys, why’d you stop?” She raised her brows. Greg jumped onto the stage and pointed past her.

“Gorilla!”

That same pathetic roar from the previous day triggered the screaming of the audience. Scout spun around to find the gorilla she had knocked out was back and charging towards poor Ms Langtree. “Young man, do something!” Mr Langtree shouted at Wirt. The teen looked around uselessly before blindly running forward to do… something.

Before he could stop or hesitate, he tripped on his still untied laces and collided with the gorilla, sending them both to the ground. When they hit the ground, the head of the gorilla popped off and rolled to the side. Everyone gasped as Wirt scrambled to his feet. The headless gorilla sat up to reveal himself as a young man with silky, blonde hair and a handlebar mustache. “Finally.” His southern accent sighed out.

“Jimmy?” Ms Langtree gaped.

“That’s right, darlin’. I was the gorilla.”

“But… why did you do it…?”

“Got a job in the circus so’s I could finally buy ya that weddin’ ring,” He struggled to stand as Ms Langtree joined his side. “But when I got stuck in the dang suit, everybody was too doggone scared to help me out.”

Scout wringed her hands together in embarrassment. Ms Langtree cupped her cheeks in her hands as she swooned.

“Oh, Jimmy…”

“Darlin’...”

The two lovingly embraced, Greg shaking Scout as everyone cheered for them. Mr Langtree sniffled and wiped a tear from his eye. “I guess the world really is as sweet as potatoes and molasses…”

As if on cue, Greg plucked the baton from Scout’s grasp and turned to the band, starting his own song once again,

“Oh, potatoes and molasses.

If you want some, oh, just ask us!”

Sensing her work was done, Scout hopped off the stage and searched for her friend. He was leaning against a tree nearby with Beatrice perched on a branch above him. Giddily smiling, she shimmied her way over to them with a skip in her step. Wirt quietly chuckled as he watched her, raising a brow when she finally reached him.

“I did pretty good, huh?”

“You did great, Scout.”

She happily sighed and leaned beside him, their shoulders brushing at their closeness. Beatrice smirked at this. “Hey, Wirt.” She softly called.

“Yeah?” He glanced up at the branch.

“Tie your shoe.”

“Hm? Oh. Mm… okay.” He hummed and bent down to do as he was told.

Peeking over his cone hat, Scout spotted Beatrice glancing from Wirt, then to her, sending a wink her way. Scout widened her eyes and blushed furiously.

—————————————

Taglist: @kirishimas-manly-eyeliner

[pineapple-lover-boy]

As I have decided my last post was way to fun too write I’ve decided to write another head canon/fanfic type of whatever.

This one concerns Teddy Lupin and Victoire Weasley.

Definitely has a big wedding like a year after they both graduate (and I don’t mean by just family)

They were the first in the family to get married after like a decade so Fleur, Molly, and (surprisingly) Hermione all get together to make it amazing

Fleur handles design choices (while consulting her daughter and future son in law of course)

Molly handles the more technical stuff like who gets invited, what types of food to they get/make, and seating charts

Hermione? She’s their human version of self control

She helps Fleur with not going too all out and makes sure Molly doesn’t put the wrong people together

She’s a huge help, really

Anyways, the wedding goes off without a hitch

(Bill was compelled to object because damnit it’s his little girl but the look on Fleur’s face tells him he might as well leave home and never come back if he does)

Now onto home life

Victoire is like her mother: blunt, a bit arrogant, but caring to a fault and very loyal

Teddy, although being described as a very nice young man by many, was: a troublemaker at heart, rowdy, clumsy just like his mother, but also very respectful and holds genuine concern for others

An interesting pair, really

Because of his clumsy ness, Victoire often had to attend to his injuries and clean up his messes

It was worth it though as he always managed to get her something that worked perfectly with her Veela features

It wasn’t all household woman that cleans after her husband though

When Victoire’s temper flared about some idiot making comments about her or people underestimating her Teddy was always there to calm her down and hold her tight

And Victoire was there every time he looked at the picture of his parents on the mantle piece

They are still the same teenagers they where at school (seriously, they’re barely even 20) so make out sessions are a must

Which now the children come along because they have their own house and are again, horny teenagers except they’re allowed to do this now

First off, I head canon Metamorphmagus genes come from muggleborns squib ancestors and once they awaken in a wizard they automatically become a dominant gene (child is more likely to have it than to not)

I hc their first child to be Remi Harry Lupin

Light brown hair just like his fathers original hair color, his grandfather, and his mother’s original hair color but with dark blue eyes like his other grandmother

It’s clear as he grows up that he inherits Veela traits even though it was thought to be impossible to, just like his uncle

He is a calm child, very smart too

As he is the first baby in years he is thoroughly doted on but he is always taught to never let it go to his head

Loves hearing stories of all his grandparents and his adoptive grandfather

Doesn’t change his appearance all that much but does so when playing with his father or putting on shows for the family

He prefers to keep his hair a soft green

Not too bright and nice for the eyes

He absolutely loves his little sister, Brielle Nymphadora Lupin

Tonks is fuming up in heaven while both Remus and Harry are secretly laughing

Brielle is much like the ones who came before her

She also inherited Veela and Metamorphmagus traits

Whenever she gets annoyed with people looking at her, even as a baby, she’ll make herself look positively ugly

She has her grandmothers silvery hair with the Weasley freckles and chocolate brown eyes

Once she weaned off of milk, to everyone’s surprise, she always had a hankering her raw meat

After all when one grandfather was full wolf and the other only about half wolf you kind of develop your own traits

She loves scaring the living daylights out of her mother but turning her face into random things

She once tried to do something so scary that she vowed never to do something like that ever again after seeing her mother’s reaction

Contrary to popular belief, this couple only had these two children

They knew their sanity was at risk if they had another; even with a well mannered child like Remi it was just too much

Remi was sorted into Hufflepuff like his father as his values were placed with loyalty more than intelligence

Brielle had another surprise in store for the family: she was sorted into Ravenclaw!

To have a brother like Remi she always admired his ability to teach her even when the entire house was shaking with the large family (this family is so big yet so close that generations down there will be like over 100 members and it’ll still be tight knit)

Brielle also strives to be smarter herself

A lot of the time she was treated as if she was an idiot just because she liked having fun more than reading

She, of course, proved them wrong when she had a successful pranking career at Hogwarts while also being a prefect and a head girl

Remi only ever became a prefect

He lamented to Headmaster McGonagall on how he would much rather focus on his studies and his friends than parading around Hogwarts trying to find troublemakers and she, with an amused smile on her face, crossed off Remi’s name for head boy the next year

Teddy and Victoire absolutely adored their children in every way

Often times Teddy would find himself confronting other who looked at the both of them

If that didn’t work then Victoire would come along and sock em on the nose

Even though their family wasn’t as big as others expected, they were a very chaotically happy family

And they wouldn’t have it any other way :)

[sohin-ace]

Joseph - Hug

That fic is a year old, I never wanted to post it. You can see my old writing style, how nostalgic.

Hugs. Everybody loves them. You didn't know what brought you to become such an affectionate little dork, but you just ended up being one.

Whether it was friends or family, or sometimes even mere acquaintances, when you hit if off really well and felt at ease with someone, you became fairly touchy-feely.

Most of the time it didn't bother people around you. If they weren't comfortable with your affection, you would just stop without taking offense. Thankfully you didn't have much trouble with it. You just loved hugs and embraces and you felt like everyone needed some warmth every once in a while.

You had known Ceasar for the longest time and you both hugged each other on a regular basis, mostly for greetings, but also for any occasions, really. There wasn't any reasons needed for it, this man was affectionate as well and was always up for a nice, sweet hold.

You have known each other for years and he practically saw you as a little sister. You really loved and respected the blond with all your heart, and your relationship was strong and pure.

When he introduced you to Joseph Joestar for the first time, he was a bit hesitant, scared even, of how that scoundrel would treat his cute, little innocent Y/N. Ceasar only told you to be especially careful around him for now without really explaining why.

But as time passed, you grew to become very attached to the Joestar too. It was nothing close to the bond you had with Ceasar, for sure, but there still was a little something going on between you two that you couldn't quite put your finger on.

Joseph made you feel many types of way, but especially nervous. For some reason you felt particularly shy around him, which was unusual for you, as you were a pretty open and sociable person.

You never had any sort of trouble getting along with people, but Joseph just somehow knew how to make you stutter and choke on your own words. Not that he was unkind or intimidating to you, no, it was much more different than that.

Yes, you were painfully in love with Joseph Joestar. But honestly, who could blame you for crushing on the guy?

He was tall, handsome, charming, insanely funny and despite his dumb demeanor, he actually was quite clever. His voice was music to your ears, and his eyes... You couldn't stop dreaming about his eyes.

The tropical ocean in his eyes made you travel so far nobody could ever bring you out of your daze.

But this deep love for him was actually the reason you couldn't be as affectionate with him as you were with the others, as contradictory as it sounded. The shyness that overcame you every time he was around prevented you from being too handsy with him or even just coming too close. This was uncharacteristic of you, but you couldn't help it.

You'd have no problems kissing Suzie Q all over her face, caressing Lisa Lisa's hair or leaning on Ceasar's shoulders when you were sleepy. But Joseph? You just wouldn't dare touch him.

What if he found it weird, or rejected you, or was disgusted by it, maybe? What if you died on the spot from respiratory failure because of your heart beating way faster than it healthily should be?

You couldn't touch him like that out of nowhere, right? You didn't know the guy enough to be this affectionate yet. Or so you told yourself to reassure your own worries.

But one day, Joseph felt particularly jealous. Everyone including him had noticed how differently you seemed to treat him compared to everyone else. He didn't understand why you acted so physically distant around him when you two actually got along so well.

Even when he was the one to try and initiate anything physical with you, even something as small as wrapping an arm around your shoulder, you wouldn't reciprocate at all.

This drove him to the edge. Did you not like him at all? He even thought that maybe Ceasar had 'brainwashed' you and put some ideas in your head that made you fear him.

He could only imagine his italian friend telling you things like "Be careful Y/N, men are wolves." and, "Don't stay alone with Jojo, you can never know what happens." as well as, "If he tries to do anything to you, call me. blah blah blah."

That thought alone drove the Joestar nuts. Like he was one to talk about defending women from pervs.

However, everything changed one specific afternoon. Ceasar and Joseph had just finished a hard day of Hamon training, and you came at the door to welcome them home.

"Welcome back, boys! How was training today?" you greeted, beaming a sweet smile.

"Ah it was good, Jojo still needs to focus, he's way behind." Ceasar said a bit tiredly as he rubbed his shoulder and went to sit down on the couch.

"Hey! Watch it floosie, don't start." Joseph retorted offended and you giggled a bit at the two bickering, as they usually did.

"Jojo, go sit down with Ceasar, you must be tired. I'll make you some tea." You warmly proposed to your friend and he nodded, sitting on one of the couches opposite the blonde.

As you turned around and were about to leave, Ceasar silently gestured you to approach him, to which you obliged, wondering what he wanted.

You came in front of him, and he suddenly grabbed your hand to pull you close. He then wrapped his arms around your waist and leaned his head on your chest, sighing delighfully as he did.

You were used to it and knew when he did this, it meant he was truly exhausted. You just let him rest like this and brought your hands to caress his blonde locks softly, craddling his head.

Jojo clenched his teeth and clicked his tongue as he was beyond frustrated with the scene before him. He could throw up at what he was currently witnessing.

He knew you two were close but who does this guy think he is? He was constantly out there calling you 'little sister' or 'sorellina' every single day of the week and yet he still acted like a pervert with you? Yikes.

"What the hell is wrong with this dude? You just have to put your hands on every woman you see! Fucking gross!" Joseph snarled at the italian man.

Ceasar slowly moved his head to the side to glare at Joseph, visibly annoyed. "What's your problem, Jojo? Can't I embrace my little tesorina in peace?"

"Why you gotta be all over her like that, just let her go, man! Can you imagine if I did the same?" Joseph argued, clearly grossed out and jealous at how clingy the blonde acted towards you.

Ceasar jolted at the mere thought. He released his grip on you and put his full, angry attention to Joseph.

"Don't you dare even think about it, Joestar!" the blonde growled.

"Huuuuuh?" Joseph raised a teasing eyebrow, "What's that? You don't like the idea of another guy touching her?"

"You'll make her uncomfortable!" Ceasar defended back.

"Oh yeah? Well it's not up to you to decide that." Joseph smirked and got up abruptly. "Y/N!" He called out.

"Y-yes?" You stuttered, overwhelmed by the whole ordeal. What even was happening?

He suddenly opened his arms wide, suggesting one thing only. Ceasar was fuming and got up as well, preventing you from approaching Joseph.

"Y/N don't, he's just being immature as always."

"Shut up playboy, she's not your girl, if she wants to hug me she will, whether you like it or not!"

You started to get tired of all the bickering. All of this for just a hug? The only reason you weren't physical with Joseph was because you were too shy and love-struck with him to do so, why did it have to end up in a stupid fight?

"I mean... If Jojo really wants to... I don't see why not..." You said as you try to swallow your own cowardness.

"Y/N..." Ceasar trailed off, concerned.

This man needed to calm down, you thought to yourself. You patted his arm and smiled reassuringly at the blonde.

"Ceasar, it's fine! It's just Jojo, it's not like he's a creepy stranger or something." you sheepishly said and he clicked his tongue in response, clearly not convinced. "Here, look, it's nothing at all!"

You slowly walked towards Joseph who started giggling excitedly like a little boy. Finally, he waited for this moment for so long.

Gently, you brought yourself into his broad chest, face getting warmer and warmer by the second, as you carefully wrapped your arms around his waist and laid your head onto him.

He instantly reciprocated by caging you in his strong arms, sighing in delight. You were so small compared to him it was beyond adorable and he swore he could actually squeal right now.

Before he could fully immerse himself into your warmth he felt you flinch a little then instantly move your hands upwards on his upper back. If you weren't already flustered and blushing like crazy, now it was even worse.

As you went to hug him, you underestimated your height difference and put your hands all over his bare waist. Poor you, you had completely forgotten the man wore crop tops on the daily and how dare you touch someone's skin so indecently?

Startled by the feeling of his warm skin, you immediately brought your hands up to a more appropriate and most importantly, clothed part of his back, hoping he didn't mind or notice your little mishap.

It was really a small detail, but you cared a lot. You buried your face more into his chest, embarrassed by your own actions, your heart was pounding so hard it would put Afro beat to shame.

How wrong, you thought to yourself, you hated to touch people's skin. Them wearing revealing clothes didn't make it okay to be this intimate, that is what you swore by.

Both him and Ceasar seemed to notice it. You weren't subtle at all. Ceasar knew how much of a respectful person you were, even if you were pretty touchy, you would never invade someone's personal space or privacy.

You would always make sure they were okay with whatever ministrations you'd give them and of course, you wouldn't dare be inappropriate, especially towards the opposite sex.

Ceasar always appreciated this thoughtful and attentive side of you and thought your pure innocence had to be protected at all cost. But of course, one idiot still decided to tease you about it.

"Hmm? What's wrong Y/N-chan? You just did something very naughty right there~" he said with a smug grin and you perked up, gasping.

"I-I didn't mean to! I'm sorry Jojo!" you moved away from him just a little bit to look at his face, concern evident on your features.

He smirked widely at your flustered state. He loved to see your cute reactions and how embarrassed you would become for such trivial reasons as insignificant as accidently touching his bare skin. It was extremely funny to him.

He squeezed your body even closer against his, feeling all your curves pressed against him and bathing in your sweet scent as he leaned down slightly.

He could feel your heart beat quicken, your blushing face was a sight to behold, and he was having the time of his life.

If he knew hugging you alone was this much fun he wouldn't have waited for Ceasar's permission at all, not that the Italian was even okay with it in the first place.

Something told him to stop there before he could break you, but glancing up at Ceasar's fuming expression just made him want to push the teasing further.

"Hmmm~" He purred close to your reddening ear, "Your boobs feel nice, Y/N-chan~"

Okay. That was it for Ceasar. One American will die tonight.

In the corner of your eyes you saw a flash of orange electric energy come at full speed towards you and Joseph. You quickly released him and ducked to the right, only for Joseph to take the hit of Ceasar's Hamon-filled punch right in the face, sending him flying.

"CEASAR!!!" You cried in shock.

"DON'T EVER TOUCH MY BABY ANGEL EVER AGAIN YOU FUCKING DICKHEAD!!!"

Joseph held his bloody nose and laughed obnoxiously at the angry blonde, pointing at him accusingly.

"Hehehe, now I understand why you only keep her to yourself, Ceasar, you horn dog! 'Little sister', my ass!"

Ceasar snapped and dashed towards him as Joseph got up and sprinted down the hallway, with no regrets whatsoever.

On the other hand, you stayed back, still overwhelmed by what just transpired. Even if it wasn't how you imagined it, it felt nice to hold the man of your dreams close to you.

You rubbed your arms, trying to savor the fading feeling of his own strong ones wrapped around you protectively. Your heart jumped in your chest and you grinned to yourself like a schoolgirl.

You were eager to do it again, but maybe this time, out of Ceasar's brotherly sight.

[jostepherjoestar]

Nonna Chiara (Abbacchio one-shot 3.7k)

gn reader // sfw // yearning and flustering aghh

Who wants a cute Italian granny to take care of them? Raise your hand ✋! Do not underestimate their power, they will smite you! Just like all my Abbacchio pieces, they do be very self indulgent 👉👈😔Please enjoy 💖✨

Nonna Chiara, the greying strokes flowing under her headband reminding you of the force she possesses, like the grey muddy water that floods the canals come rainy season; any object daring to obstruct her getting washed away in a powerful rush. Her presence felt in every house on the small block of closely packed houses and small alleyways connecting them. Like a hawk she could see all and know all, from the smitten teenagers sneaking out for a kiss before sunset, to the tired mother’s exasperated groan as she slid down onto her stone backdoor-step, trying to escape the hectic toddlers that kept her busy. 

It was like she deployed her own personal army of watchers, sneaking around unnoticed, observing all of her kingdom. Not that the neighbourhood had been bestowed upon her in a grand ceremony while a jaunty melody escorted her through the kingdom gates. It was her caring nature that earned her the reputation. She’d always offer her earnest, unadulterated, bordering on brutally honest advice to anyone in a gnarly situation. You’d always suspected there was so much more going on inside her little house, only a gravelly byroad separating you from each other. 

The large window that faced your all-knowing neighbour served her well, satiating her curiosity on your well-being. As if part of a sacred ritual you’d scuffle about your small studio, from the bright mornings that offered harsh rays of sunshine to glare onto your work, till the soft blanket of sunset delicately casts shadows around the jars filled with pencils and brushes. There was little that could distract you from your work, one moment working on that paint clad wooden easel you liked to move around the room every few days- the other moment gently placing the large canvas on the equally paint clad wooden table in the middle of your studio, shoulders hunched while you added soft petals to a blossoming tree. 

The older woman knew you rarely sat back to bask in the sunlight, to breathe in anything other than the fumes of paint-thinner. You could always feel her disappointed scowl on you, trying your best to ignore it and continue the arduous task of masking delicate blue veins on the figure’s pale skin or adding a misty haze to a lover’s eye. The shadows under your eyes, your glasses only further enhancing them, so obvious that every other day the small statured but strong willed woman came knocking on your window. 

“Come, let’s walk.” The wrinkled skin on her arm so soft and droopy as she offered her elbow, the thought of you being the one needing support rather than the older woman made you smile. Her honest concern always being heard during the evening strolls as the sweet summer winds blew through the winding roads. “Another commission already? My child, please take a day off! I only ever see you work work work, it’s like you never take the time to enjoy the world you love to paint.” Her rumpled hands moving as she scolded you, shaking you along as your elbows stayed locked into one another.  

You knew she was right, the commissions were alway lenient, offering you time to lay back but that had never been a viable option in your mindset. “I know, I know. There’s no excuses, nonna. It’s just… I feel so useless when I’m not busy.” The compassion in her eyes was too much to bare, the view in front of you seemed less confronting than the caring woman besides you. “Then come sit with me, we’ll talk, bake, gossip… hell- I wouldn’t mind if we just sat and stared at Rosa’s fat cat sleep on my hydrangeas!” That hearty chuckle could melt an iceberg but the strong grip on your forearm let you know she would come drag you out of the studio if you kept going like this. Staring at your other neighbour’s lazy cat did seem like a nice way to unwind. The strength of nonna Chiara even swayed your stubborn thoughts, the woman was persistent so it would serve you to just go along. “I’ll tell you all about that bel ragazzo that’s been coming over.” Giggling like a couple of kids while she escorted you back to the safety of your studio, your current commission awaiting your skills. “You’ll come over, ok?” Those sturdy fingers pinching your cheek until it grew red. “Alright, alright.” A sigh of defeat, there was no winning this battle. 

-

“Come on, put your back into it! If you don’t knead it, it’ll start kneading you!”  The loud cackles could be heard all the way down the block, a telltale sign nonna Chiara was teasing again. You were working the dough thoroughly but apparently not hard enough, starting to gain traction as you felt sweat starting to grace your forehead. Painting was rarely this strenuous. The positions you’d bend yourself into were on the uncomfortable side sometimes but they never made you break a sweat like this. “See! I’m doing it.” The elder woman’s content smirk letting you know she enjoyed watching you squirm, all in good taste of course. She had been teaching you to make focaccia, promising that when the dough had a night’s rest she’d bring you a pan of the fragrant bread you’d made together. 

You never had much family to share moments like these with, maybe nonna Chiara recognised it, taking pity and offering you a smidge of what you’d missed out on. And to be honest with yourself it was working out nicely, being independent and headstrong like you had its downsides. But it’s what you had to be, otherwise you wouldn’t be where you are today, perhaps now the perfect time to ease into a more comfortable routine now that you’ve reached your goal of becoming a self-employed artist. Your pseudo-grandmother’s persistence was starting to pay off. 

A few soft knocks on the creaky backdoor made her get up excitedly from her seat, the older woman still had more than enough energy to spare, with a spring in her step she went to answer it. It wasn’t uncommon for multiple neighbours to grace her lovely home, you’d often heard loud laughter and conversation spill over the gravelly byroad between your houses, even late into the night. “Ah! Just the one I’d been expecting. Leone come, come! We’re making focaccia but I still have some leftover cannolis for you to take to your friends.” Like she was the goodnatured twin of the evil witch living in a cottage made of candy and sweets, she ushered her guest inside after exchanging quick kisses on each cheek. You had been padding the dough into the oven dishes, slathering them in olive oil and sprinkling dried chilli and freshly shopped rosemary on the dented dough as they entered the kitchen. His height alone made you rest your hands into the dish, his lightened hair and intense gaze not making it easier on your sticky hands. He wasn’t at all who you’d expected to visit nonna Chiara, not sure you’ve ever spotted him around the neighbourhood before, surely you’d remember someone like him.

Those intense gradient eyes met yours, a look of surprise and slight annoyance that he hadn’t caught his acquaintance alone like he usually would. “Come on step inside, as far as I know that painter won’t bite.” She practically pushed the dark clad man further into the room to an empty seat right at the table that had been your workspace. “Hi.” The pathetic sound the only one you could muster while pulling the sticky dough from your hands. A curt nod acknowledging your existence. His lack of sociability not one you disliked, not one to be overtly into smalltalk with handsome strangers yourself anyway. “I have to do everything myself around here, bambini. This is my neighbour, they make wonderful paintings and work way too much, that’s why we’re baking today.” Her impatience clear as she took you by the arm to lead you to the sink, opening the faucet so your oily hands won’t coat the entire kitchen. For a moment you felt like a petulant child again. “And that is Leone Abbacchio, he comes to buy my secrets.” The joking manner in which she spoke still held truth, making you wonder what kind of shady business they were dealing in. Leone snorted at her honesty. “That’s also supposed to be a secret.” The grit and depth of his voice irrupting tingles in your brain. 

The old woman cackled at the young man while preparing the small cups of espresso. The smell already taking over the kitchen, erasing any trace of the previous rosemary. The stark haired man moving with a certain grace as he helped you put away the dishes of rising dough, laying dampened towels over them, tucking the bread in for a night of fermenting. “Sit down you two.” Nonna ordered, following the pair of you back to the round wooden table. “This is the bel ragazzo I told you about. I was right, wasn’t I? So handsome!” You wanted to sink down your chair and never come back up, the man before you looking ready to do the same. His pale chiseled cheeks flushing crimson. The hum you replied with as unstable and unsure as the ambience of the room. Nonna Chiara knew what she was doing and didn’t care if you did too. “If you need to talk business, I’ll leave you to it.” Avoiding any eye contact and already on your feet again before getting an answer. “If you don’t mind.” Leone replied before nonna could, her disappointed huff knowing it was best that you didn’t get involved in whatever they were going to discuss. “It was nice meeting you Leone.” A hasty polite nod and quick kisses goodbye to the elder and you scampered off. 

-

You leaned over the canvas that covered most of the splattered table, lost in thought while rolling a paint brush between your fingers. What were they discussing? Secrets, yes. But what kind, and why him? Was he a messenger of sorts? Someone so handsome, exuding a dangerous aura that only titillated your senses more just like that deep voice did, could only have an equally precarious job. 

Nonna Chiara’s need to take on the roll of cupid bringing warmth back into your cheeks. It was nice of her to try but you weren’t sure that the man had any interest in you after that awkward moment. Of course he was handsome! You were in awe of seeing a human possess such beauty, it made you envious you’d never been able to encapsulate anyone nearly as captivating as Leone Abbacchio onto a canvas. The vision of his tall muscled figure graced in flowing silk, entangled in a web of complex vines as the hazy look of excellence in half lidded eyes lured you in. A certain melancholy hiding behind them but the way their colour enamoured you only made you want to paint sunsets from now on, getting lost in de gradient with no way out. In the moment itself, too flustered to pay all these thoughts any mind, you could barely mutter a word. He must think you a bore, nothing to say but “Hi”.

The painting before you lacked interested, it lacked him. You know it’s silly to be so caught up on a stranger that barely paid you any mind but his image persisted, locked on to your very being. You knew you had to draw him, muster up anything that even resembled his being, even just so you’d get him out of your system. It had been a while since you’d felt this rush of inspiration, always so caught up in moulding the ideas from your commissioners. Your pencil didn’t seem to move as fast as you’d liked, afraid that if you didn’t sketch out this composition his memory would fade from existence. By the harsh light of the table lamp you sat and fervently scribbled like your livelihood depended on it. 

You wondered if he was still discussing business with nonna Chiara. It brought you relief to know that if you only asked about him, she’d lead you into the right direction to find him again. She loved a good bit of gossip but never one to impart any unfair judgement onto curious ears. She was a fair ruler, not one to quickly criticise questionable behaviour; there was always a reason behind it and somehow the old woman would always find out what it was. You could only apply the same kindness to her, trying not to jump to conclusions of her ongoings with the compelling Leone Abbacchio, the name you’d pencilled down on the righthand corner of the page. The scene you’d imagined all drawn out, maybe you’d turn it into a painting. 

The sound of fingernails rhythmically tapping against your big window jolted your back straight in surprise, clutching your chest while trying to workout the source of the sound. Scuttling over to the backdoor in a hurry, sliding in your slippers, you were astonished to see the familiar face you’d just drawn so frantically. Middle finger and thumb pressed together pensively as he checked the black polish for cracks, awaiting you to open up. The windowed door offered little to hide behind, kicking yourself for waiting a good five seconds to open it while you stared. “Hi.” Again, that little greeting of yours barely audible. “Hi.” His intense gaze locked onto yours as he paused, the rattling of the little container he was barely holding onto reminding him of why he had come by. 

“Here, nonna Chiara forgot to give you her almond cakes. She said her hip was hurting so…” Well this was the first you’d heard of a painful hip, not once during your walks together did she complain. Another one of her tricks, perhaps? “Sorry for putting you through the trouble, that woman can be a bit cheeky sometimes.” You knew full well she’d just hand you the cakes when you’d drop by tomorrow to retrieve the focaccia, no need for a late night delivery. The deep chuckle he let out made your heart melt, it seemed he’d also been aware of her games. “She isn’t really being subtle, no.” the nervous scratch at the back of his hand and the way his eyes didn’t seem to stick to one spot for long made you a bit antsy as well. Not sure how to continue the second awkward situation nonna Chiara had created, not even being present for this one. 

“Do you-” and “You’re an-”, the questions escaping at the same time making you both stop and urge the other to precede. “You go first!” Anything to hear that sweet voice of his. For a moment you felt like a kid again, anticipating your newest crush’s words, having to muster up all the courage you had to reply with anything sensible. “You’re an artist?” His former question being continued. The fact that he’d asked, even just to make small talk while he clearly wasn’t the type to, made your heart clench. “Yes! Paintings mostly, but I dabble in all sorts of stuff.” You got so cutely coy when answering, making the man in front of you question if he was even allowed to witness someone so sweet. Curious to know if you were really that demure or just very nervous like he was right now, feeling the pressure from nonna Chiara incite a renewed confidence to continue talking. “I like art.” He could smash his head against a curb at how overtly stupid that sounded. Never been the wordsmith but it felt like he had reached a new low. “I don’t.” The reply spilling out a bit too quick, your wit betraying you as it acted on its own volition. The absolute confusion in his gaze letting you know the joke hadn’t really landed. The ground had two eager passengers, ticket in hand, awaiting to get swallowed whole. “That was a joke, sorry.” The way your cheeks blushed making him want to reach out and stroke them, kiss your cute nose and tell you not to apologise for trying to make the conversation a little lighter than it had been. Leone breathed out a chuckle laced with relief as he met your eyes again, aching to get lost. He felt so selfish to want you, the way your hands sunk into the dough as soon as you saw him a memory he won’t forget. That terrible nonna Chiara had no right being so good at this. 

“Would you like to see my studio? If you like art, there’s lots of it in there…” If he was putting in the effort so keenly, you might as well play along too. Eager to spend time with him, questioning if it had been mere infatuation or something much deeper. All the man could do was nod, the slight lift on the corner of his lips absolutely soul-crushingly adorable as you lead him into your studio. You let him feast his eyes at the canvasses on the walls and the ones resting on the wooden racks, the glass jars filled with brushes, the mixing palette with drying paint resting on a piece of cloth so it wouldn’t stain the painting underneath. 

All was well until his eyes crept downward to the sketchbook on the table, the one you’d been scribbling in as he tapped your window. Realising that he was the very man you tried to capture in the sketch and that it would be blatantly obvious you froze in fear. He must think you certifiably insane. “Is that… me?” He pulled the sketchbook up close to inspect it, a look of neither satisfaction or displeasure. “Uhm, yes?” Posed as a question, as if to ask permission after the deed had already been done. “Why?” It wasn’t that he hated the way it looked, it was absolutely stunning and dynamic while also conveying a sense of solemn beauty as the vines twisted around his legs and the silk draped his hips while those half lidded hazy eyes stared back at him. Leone hadn’t the slightest clue as to how you drew him to look so engaging, not aware of how much of it had been based in reality. Not feeling deserving to be so seen and admired. “You have great features… and a great figure… and beautiful eyes… you inspired me.” You begged him not to make you continue the compliments, they were all true of course but every word made you shiver. The scrunched up brows not letting you detect how he truly felt about it just yet. 

“That’s how you view me?” His dejectedness so clear in his reply, making you want to smother him in an embrace and never let go, to tell him how worthy he is no matter what. You’ve barely even spoken but this magnetic pull towards him so grand you couldn’t ignore it. “Yes.” But you ached to spill so much more as you searched his eyes, trying to silently convey all your thoughts to him with a single look. “I’m sorry. I’ll throw it out if you don’t want me drawing you-” You weren’t allowed to finish that sentence. “No. Stop apologising. This is beautiful.” Those intense gradients making you feel every word as you stared up at him. His body having trouble calming his thumping heart, never had he felt such an unusual pull towards another and felt so inclined to let himself indulge. 

“Still waters run deep.” You sighed, the contentment of your art flowing through you as you felt the need to explain, allowing yourself to and letting the barrier that held you back, falter. “There’s a lot you don’t like to show. The reason for the silk, a beautiful outside thinly veiling hidden depths. A lot goes on in that mind of yours, the vines entangling your movement like thoughts can. And those eyes just speak for themselves, they don’t even need to be on full display to pull you in.” It went against everything your teachers had taught you, never explain the hidden meaning of your work. But it only felt right to tell him, to let him know just how inspired he made you feel. He took some time to process what you just said, his furrowed brows softening as he put down the sketchbook. “Didn’t know I was that obvious.” His deep chuckle assuring you he hasn’t dismissed you yet. “No. NO! Just… I can relate. It’s easy to spot if you know how it feels.” You were struggling with all your might to withhold the need to cling to his chest, to tell him he’s not alone. Something so solemnly recognisable about his air. 

He felt seen, exposed even, at your observations of him. It felt so vulnerable and pure but for the first time it didn’t make him angry to be so naked. You made it bearable, it wasn’t a look of pity in your eyes but that of understanding. It only made his heart ache to think you’ve felt so lost and and wrapped in your own struggles, spiralling until there's no turning back. Just like you he only wished to make you realise how worthy you were of every wonderful thing in existence. Of love and kindness and support. Of someone to lean on at your worst and to cherish at your best. Leone hadn’t been as down on himself since surviving that terrible blow while fighting his old boss. He’d grown to appreciate life itself just a tad with the help of his team. Blossoming the thought that maybe he was allowed to let another in and not let his anxious thoughts of ruining it take over. 

Standing there in thought, both getting wrapped up in each other without even uttering a single word. “Is she a witch?” You wondered out loud as you felt her stare on the two of you, both turning to catch her waving from her curtained little window. That satisfied smirk so smug as her plan had worked out so perfectly. As she left her little window to go sit down, two equally blushed faces met again, doing little to hide your smiles. “Can I take you out sometime?” Your curious fingers exploring his hand, the hardened skin on his knuckles feeling scratchy as you searched for grip. “I’d like that.” His hand accepting yours as you lingered in each others spaces like long lost lovers. 

[jonathanvik]

Starlight Dream - Chapter 10

"I can't believe Takako duped us like that!" Colten said, fuming in anger. "We underestimated her, and she's gotten stronger!"

"It didn't fool me for a second." Mr. Kiyojiro said.

"What?!" Aiko, Colten, and Seina exclaimed in surprise.

Seina's bodyguard smirked. "It wasn't like she made it difficult. She barely acted differently than her normal self."

"I suppose." Seina blushed in embarrassment. The deception was obvious if you stopped to consider it.

Mr. Kiyojiro rubbed the back of his neck, his turn to be embarrassed. "I'm sorry. I allowed her to train with you because I thought she'd be a good rival to increase your abilities."

Her bodyguard's mood darkened, voice tinged with self-loathing. "I never considered she might team up with the vampires. It almost got you killed."

"Yeah…"

"It's fine!" Aiko said, trying to disrupt the dark mood that had overtaken the room. "She saved my life, remember? I'm certain we can become friends again."

"You want her back?" Seina said, annoyed. After everything, why was her friend so quick to forgive the dark magical girl? "She hates me, remember?"

"Oh, that's just Maeko, er, Takako, being her usual self. I'm confident she doesn't really hate you." Aiko puffed out her chest. "We had a lot of fun together, didn't we?"

Siena looked away. "I'm still not sure I want her around." While part of her understood Aiko's argument, the nastier part of her refused to forgive Takako's deception and betrayal. It was childish, but Seina couldn't help herself.

A weak smile appeared on Aiko's lips. "Okay, I can't force you to be friends. Still, open your heart to forgive her, okay?"

"Sure." Seina changed the subject, wanting to discuss something less painful. "I still have the entire day off. How about we celebrate my victory with some lunch? We still haven't tried that ramen place you recommended, Mr. Kiyojiro."

Much to her relief, this restored her bodyguard's mood, and he nodded. "It isn't far from here."

"Actually, could you go without me?" Aiko said.

Seina blinked. "You aren't hungry?"

"There's some matter I need to attend to. Go and have fun. I'll catch up with you later." Aiko gave her friends a wink. "And I'll come with a special surprise! Later." With a wave, her girl dashed off in the other direction.

"Okay," Seina said, after some reluctance.

"What's she up to, I wonder?" Colten asked, before shrugging. "More ramen for me! All that action has made me starving!"

A pebble fell over the bridge as Takako kicked it away. Since she'd ruined her day-out plans with Seina and the others, it left her little to do. Without Nier, she couldn't leave this universe, unable to escape her shame. It burned her that Seina had given her mercy. Not that Takako wished to die, but it was still a black mark, regardless. Her stomach rumbled, and she groaned, hanging her arms over the bridge's railing. Why hadn't she fought with her rival after they'd gotten lunch first?

Should I go back to Lilha's place and raid her fridge? Still, it meant encountering her former ally, and Takako despised seeing a reminder of her shame. Because of that woman, Aiko had gotten hurt, and Takako found she couldn't forgive herself for it.

Wonderful. I just realized something. Without Lilha, I don't have a place to live anymore. I'm homeless and trapped. Did this mean she'd need to live in a cardboard box by the river until Nier returned? Or live in an abandoned building full of rats? Takako grimaced when her stomach rumbled again. She gasped as someone pushed a bento box into her face.

Takako glanced up to find Aiko smiling down at her, carrying her own bento box. "You haven't had lunch yet, right? I thought I'd join you."

For a moment, Takako hesitated taking the lunch box. She hated taking charity. Was this some kind of trick? A way to mock her for her failure? Yet, Takako sensed genuine kindness behind Aiko's smile. Her stomach growled again, and she grabbed the box, grasping the chopstick inside.

"I don't know what you're scheming, but thanks," Takako placed her back against the railing.

"I just thought you needed a friend," Aiko replied, joining her. She gave thanks for the meal and dug into her bento box.

"Friend?" Despite her hunger, Takako still hesitated, staring at her meal untouched. "After what happened, I thought you hated me, like Seina."

"Hate you? Nah. I never hold grudges. Waste of time." Aiko waved a dismissive hand.

Takako only stared at the girl, dumbstruck. "Really?"

"And I doubt Seina hates you either," Aiko said. "She doesn't take betrayal well. She's had a bad history with it. Are you going to eat or what?"

Takako mentally slapped herself and gave thanks for the meal. She grabbed a piece of shrimp and bit into it before gasping in amazement. It was spectacular!

Aiko smirked when she caught her friend's expression. "I'm glad you like it. A really nice old lady down the street likes making them for people. She was a famous chef before the vampires came. We're old friends."

They ate in silence for several moments before Takako broke it. "She truly doesn't hate me? Maybe she should. She wasn't completely wrong." Seina's accusations still burned in her mind with its unwavering conviction.

"Yeah, she was right," Aiko said, nodding, making Takako wince. The girl caught her reaction. "What? I won't lie and say it's a good thing you've allowed people to get hurt through your inaction."

"Thanks."

"But I won't say you're hopeless either," Aiko said. "If you were evil, you would have allowed that brute to kill me. I don't believe anyone is beyond redemption regardless of their past actions."

"You're a marvel, Aiko. You know that?"

"Huh?"

"The others argued I was too dangerous to leave alive, but not you. After everything you've suffered through, I thought you'd be the first to condemn me for my sins."

Aiko snorted. "That's because I can see people's hearts. Besides, most people aren't evil regardless of what they've done. They just need to do better. Or, that's what my mom always tells me, anyway."

"What makes you think I want to be good?" Takako asked defensively.

"I'm not asking you to be a saint," Aiko said, snorting. "How did you even get into this magical girl business, anyway? You seem to hate it."

"You're not wrong," Takako said, admitting the truth. "I'm not like the other magical girls. I don't like hurting people. As for how I became one…" She hesitated. It wasn't a story she'd told anyone else before. It had been so long ago, Takako had almost forgotten it. No, that wasn't true. She hadn't wanted to remember. Yet, something about Aiko made Takako want to trust her.

After taking a deep breath, Takako began her story. "It began almost three hundred years ago. I was just an ordinary girl. Plenty of sass, sure. It drove my parents and teachers up a wall, but ordinary. One day, my fairy partner appeared to me while I was sitting on a bridge, not unlike this one. I'd had a fight with my parents and wanted to be alone. They wanted me to attend a cram school, and I hadn't taken it well. Nier, he offered me the universe with the power to do anything. I was so angry and frustrated with my boring, ordinary life that I accepted without hesitation."

"They told me magical girls exist to cause suffering, but I was more interested in exploring the cosmos. Some magical girls like to burn their homeworld as an initiation ritual to join the order. I just left and never looked back. I ignored my magical girl duties and went exploring." Takako smirked. "It annoyed Nier to no end, but the multiverse is a beautiful place.."

Takako's mood darkened when she remembered the next part. "I'm immortal, and the cosmos is a huge place. When I finally remembered to return home, over four decades had passed. Everything I'd known had long disappeared. My brother already had teenagers, and my parents had long since passed. My disappearance devastated them. They never really recovered."

An unexpected tear slid down her face. "They loved me so much. They did everything to find me. Every day my disappearance tormented them, and I was gallivanting around the universe. Our relationship wasn't the best, but I loved them." How had she allowed herself to forget it? She'd been such a child. Aiko grabbed her hand and squeezed, giving Takako some measure of comfort.

"After that…" Takako trailed off.

After learning about her parent's fate, she ran away again, unable to bear the reality of what she'd done. It had been too painful. Her brother would be long dead now, forgotten by history. She had never even visited his grave. Takako couldn't deny Seina's accusation. She was cowardly.

"It's okay." Aiko pulled her into an unexpected hug, and Takako cried into her shoulder. Long suppressed emotions spilled out like a burst dam.

After several minutes, Takako wiped her eyes. "I'm such an idiot. Look at me. I'm a mess." Yet, the cry paradoxically felt good, not realizing how much she'd needed it. Aiko continued to say nothing, using her presence to comfort her new friend instead.

"I suppose once you grow accustomed to being alone, you forget how good it is to be around people," Takako considered her relationship with Neir. Could she even really consider him a friend? It pained Takako to realize she couldn't answer that question.

Aiko smiled and nodded. "That's true. But remember, you aren't alone. You have Seina and me."

This made Takako flinch. "If she'll even take me back."

"She will. Just give her time."

A horrible realization came to Takako's mind. "I've basically betrayed our order! The other magical girls won't tolerate such treachery." And her fairy partner would have an aneurysm.

"You haven't told them about Seina yet, have you? After your first fight with Seina, we'd assumed you'd returned home."

"No, but Nier went to Starlight Dream to gather more info about Seina's weird powers. She shouldn't be that powerful. He might have told someone." Takako sighed. "I suppose it doesn't matter, regardless. My report about this universe is super late. They're bound to send someone." They tolerated Takako's laziness, but only to a point.

Aiko clapped her hands together. "That's no big deal. Together with Seina, I'm sure you'll make an unstoppable team!"

"I'm only a lowly grunt. You have no idea how powerful the Devil Princesses and their minions are." Wait, had she just resigned herself to betraying Starlight Dream?

No, I suppose I don't want to go back. They're a bunch of jerks, anyway.

"Can you teach Seina how to better use her abilities? She's been trying to learn magic, but it hasn't really worked out."

"Maybe? I'm surprised she hadn't already. Normally, magic comes intuitively to magical girls. She has her weapon already. It should be enough." Another oddity about Seina. What the hell was she, anyway?

"It's something, I suppose. But we can worry about that later." A mischievous smile appeared on Aiko's face. "In the meantime, how about we go shopping as we planned? I really want to see that trendy place I mentioned earlier. And I have a fantastic idea to help you get back into Seina's good graces."

Takako blinked. "Really?"

"We'll get her a cute purse. It will be a great makeup present."

"Okay." Takako shrugged and quickly finished her bento box. "I'm actually in the mood for some shopping." Even if she bought nothing, Takako loved trying on cool outfits. Besides, it would be fun to go out shopping with someone. Nier hated doing it and whined about every single time.

Aiko beamed, grabbing Takako by the hand. The girls giggled as they ran towards the shopping district. Takako's heart felt lighter than it ever had in several centuries.

"Yo, we're back!" Aiko waved as they entered the training dojo, her hands full of bags.

It had taken several hours, but they'd found several outfits Aiko was certain Seina would love. After their shopping session, they'd gone back to Aiko's house, and Takako had spent the night over. Aiko's parents had been very kind, treating Takako like a second daughter. It surprised the magical girl how much she'd missed having an adult fret over her. Plus, Takako was beyond grateful she didn't need to spend the night on the street. Aiko's parents were happy to have her sleep over anytime. It gave her a home base while she considered things.

Takako still wasn't certain she wanted to turn against Starlight Dream and the Devil Princesses. It was an insane risk. Yet she couldn't stand the thought of anyone hurting Aiko. She'd at least train with Seina for the time being and get stronger. Their fight had reminded Takako how far she still needed to go.

"Oh, so you brought her." Mr. Kiyojiro said, scowling when he spotted Takako.

"Uh, hi." Seina gave Takako an awkward wave, not eager to see the dark magical girl, either. Colten watched the unwanted newcomer with suspicion.

"We brought gifts!" Aiko said, beaming, and pushed bags into Takako's hands.

"What?" Takako suddenly became self-conscious. Aiko wanted her to present the gifts to Seina? Her friend gave an encouraging smile, and Takako steeled her nerves. Here goes nothing.

"Here, I got you these," Takako said, voice stiff. "I'm sorry for what happened. It was wrong for me to betray your trust like that."

Seina accepted the offering, peering into the bags. Colten joined her, peering over her shoulder. The girl's face brightened when she lifted the purse out.

"It's so cute! Thank you!" The purse had stitchings of lotus blossoms sewn onto its side. It had taken many shops to find it.

"There's more in there, too. We found you this sundress you're sure to love!" Aiko gave a wink.

"Huh." Seina peered deeper into the bags.

"Do you really expect a purse and a few dresses will make up for your past transgressions?" Mr. Kiyojiro gave Takako the stink eye.

"Yes, actually. Stay out of this. These are girl matters!" Aiko said, matching the bodyguard's glare.

"It's a start, at least," Seina said.

"It's not bad." Colten gave Takako an encouraging smile, accepting the apology.

"Don't expect me to help you fight against other magical girls," Takako said, trying to regain her cool factor. She couldn't allow her rival to see her as going soft. "But we aren't enemies anymore either."

"Everything is mended!" Aiko nodded in satisfaction. "Now you can train together again."

"Uh, actually." Seina rubbed the back of her neck, embarrassed.

"Yeah, I'm Seina's new training partner!" A giant brute with a mohawk walked into the gym. "The name's Masato Shibata."

"What?" Takako said, baffled. Wasn't this one of Lotus Butcher's goons? The memory of the fake magical girl still caused her to stutter in horror.

"We couldn't find anyone else." Mr. Kiyojiro didn't seem pleased by the idea either. "Some vampire was threatening girls to not train with Seina, and they're too scared to argue."

"Don't worry, sensei. With my Fist of the Scorpio, Seina skills will be unstoppable!" Masato smacked the bodyguard across the back, earning a further glare from him.

"No, we're sticking with karate." Mr. Kiyojiro replied without compromise. "Besides, you literally only know one move."

Masato coughed into his fist. "Well, they kicked me out before I could learn much else. But I've supplemented it with my own self-taught techniques."

"Your useless self-taught techniques you mean." Mr. Kiyojiro shot back.

"Now, let's not fight," Seina said, trying to avoid a bigger argument. "We're glad to have him, regardless." Though this was an obvious lie.

"I'll prove my worth, you'll see," Masato said.

"Hey, what about me?!" Takako said, unable to hold back her frustration any longer. They'd replaced her with this lug?! It was beyond an insult!

"You've lost your right." Mr. Kiyojiro said, crossing his arms. "I don't see any reason why I should train you any longer."

"Give her another chance!" Aiko's glare intensified.

"No, I'm not changing my mind on this." Mr. Kiyojiro said, refusing to budge.

"Forget it! I don't need these guys!" Takako stormed out of the room. It twisted her insides when Seina didn't move to stop her. Only Aiko loyally stood by her side.

"Damnit!" Takako kicked a trash can, which made a satisfying thud when it crashed to the ground.

"Those two." Aiko rubbed the bridge of her nose. "I can't believe how uncompromising Mr. Kiyojiro is! The jerk!"

Takako's entire body sagged. "I guess they don't want me around."

Behind them, someone coughed. It was Seina. "He means well, but Mr. Kiyojiro is hard headed sometimes. So, uh, sorry. That could have gone better."

Seina fidgeted on her feet before gaining the courage to speak again. "I really enjoyed the time we trained together. I won't mind continuing our training, but it won't be full-time or anything. Though, I'm not sure I'd be a great teacher."

"Seina." Takako said, lost for words.

Aiko beamed, glad her two friends were mending their differences. She suddenly turned thoughtful. "Actually, I have a better idea!" The two girls gave her an expectant look.

"How about Takako finds her own master? Then you two can spar in your free time. It's a great way to hone your skills. Besides, karate doesn't really suit Takako, anyway."

"You're a genius!" Besides, Takako had hated training under Mr. Kiyojiro, not liking the subtle disapproval he radiated whenever she was around.

Seina nodded in approval. "We can meet together in one month's time and spar to see what we've learned! Without powers, of course."

"I'll be there!" Takako would beat Seina, but in her own style.

While she hadn't become friends with Seina, Takako valued their rivalry. It brought some excitement to her usually dull magical girl life. They extended their hands and shook on it with Aiko's hand sitting on top of it. Takako couldn't wait for next month.

Still, it offered a burning question Takako hadn't considered until now. Where would she find a new martial arts master in a ravaged world barely recovering from the vampire's evil reign?

When she asked Aiko about this, the girl only smirked. "Don't worry. I have plenty of contacts. They'll find you something."

"Okay," While still unconvinced, Takako wouldn't argue the point. Her upcoming battle with Seina sparked a fire within her, and she was eager to see what awaited her down this strange new path.

[elizabeth-mitchells]

the only touchstone of truth

Chapters: 2/? Fandom: I Care A Lot (2020) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Fran/Marla Grayson Characters: Marla Grayson, Fran (I Care A Lot) Additional Tags: Canon Compliant, Canon Lesbian Relationship, Origin Story, Canon Backstory, First Meetings, First Kiss, First Dates, Getting Together, Morally Ambiguous Character, Illegal Activities, Eventual Smut, Flirting, Partners in Crime, crime wives

Chapter 2:

There was something different about Marla that day. She wasn’t bored, she wasn’t idly waiting. She was waiting, true, but only because that was part of her plan. Standing behind her counter, her shop more or less back in shape, she wore a different blouse, higher heels, and a smile that sharpened, even more, when somebody came in. Marla sent a quick nod to Curtis, who had instructions on what to do. He pulled out his phone and walked away toward the storage room of the place.

“Marla,” the man greeted her with a perfectly polite and respectful tone that already started to crumble on his second sentence, “I wonder, what on Earth are you trying to do?”

“Mr. Nelson, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Marla replied, “It’s a pleasure to have you visit us.” What an honor to have you millionaire, corporate, chain store, ugly ass step on my broken dreams physically this time.

“You cleaned up the store,” he sighed, looking around as if to take a hold of his emotions.

This promptly reminded the blonde of the couple of hours she spent with Curtis destroying her own shop and then putting it back together again. In the upcoming years, Marla would learn just how far she was capable of playing dirty, and many would accuse her of being unscrupulous, among worse adjectives, but nobody would ever dare call her lazy, that was for sure. With or without morals, Marla was an extremely hardworking woman, and she wasn’t afraid of getting her hands dirty, for better or for worse. A practical habit that she cultivated during her days of playing fair, and kept, for some reason. Most likely because idleness simply went against her nature, and she had promised herself not to rest until she achieved her goals. 

“We did, yes. Lots of hard work,” the blonde nodded, “such a shame what happened.”

“Such a shame,” the man echoed the sentiment, speaking on autopilot, but when he focused his eyes on Marla again he was all ice. “You’re accusing us of doing it,” he said.

Purposefully, Marla gave him a deep shrug and another shark-like smile. “I believe it’s the police who marked your company as suspects,” she replied in a mockingly innocent tone.

“We didn’t do it. And the accusation is bad publicity for our business. Drop the lawsuit,” he ordered, his voice starting to shake just slightly. When Marla only shook her head slowly, he scoffed. “You’re nothing, Marla Gray,” he seethed, “Your little business is over. Why would we try to boycott you out of all people? You’re not even competition. Drop the lawsuit.”

“Grayson.”

“What?” he was still laughing with a combination of awkwardness and annoyance.

“My name is Marla Grayson,” she stated using the full power of the commanding nature that she knew she had, “and I will fight for this shop until the end.”

He scoffed again, clearly losing his patience. The man walked to the door of the store and back to the counter once, twice, until he calmed down and not quite looking Marla in the eyes, he offered, “Twenty thousand dollars, and you’ll drop the lawsuit.”

“No,” Marla denied it immediately and before she could fully think about how offensive the offer was, he continued.

“Fifty thousand, Marla,” he said, his face red and his voice trembling. It was a pretty number that put Marla at a crossroads between the attempt to feel offended and the impulse to just ask for more. Either way, that number would not do. She only tilted her head and her expression said it all. “A hundred thousand dollars, dammit! Final offer!”

At this point, Marla made it a point to pick up her vape pen and look as bored as possible. “Please get out of my store, Mr. Nelson. I’ll see you in court,” she concluded.

He shook his head, he was breathing heavily and wildly waved a finger in her direction. “No! This is not over,” he protested, “How dare you say no to me?! I’ll make you regret it, you know?” He made a pause and after seeing that his threat did nothing to disturb her, and in fact, she only exhaled the smoke in a terribly irritating way, he slammed his hands on the counter right in front of her, “Dammit just take the money!”

“I will not,” Marla fumed back at him, barely letting show a hint of her patience running out.

“And you better stop screaming.”

Both Marla and her unwanted guest hastily looked toward the door of the shop. There was Fran, casually leaning against the doorway, not so casually showing off her plaque. At first, the man didn’t even move from his place. But Fran let out a quick whistle and said, “This aggressive visit will not look on your case, Mr. Nelson.”

Finally, the big store owner groaned loudly and without even sparing either woman a word, he stormed away from the place for good.

This quick turn of events left Marla and Fran alone in the shop. Marla stayed behind the counter that she managed to handle like an equivalent to a throne, and Fran took a couple of effortless steps forward until she stood in the middle of the place, directing a small and easy smile at the other woman.

“I must say,” Fran started to say, “I didn’t expect to receive this ‘Marla needs help, come over right now’ text from a number, I assume, that isn’t yours.” She waved her phone once for emphasis.

“Personally, I don’t usually give my number to strangers,” Marla replied, earning herself a chuckle from Fran, who looked away for a second, but when their eyes met again, Marla was sincere as she said, “Thank you for coming, by the way.”

Fran nodded, accepting her gratitude without making a big deal of it. This gave Marla an opportunity to study her again. Fran looked similar to what she did that night showing up to the shop after the staged attack. A ponytail holding on for dear life to wild hair that just begged to be freed, a more or less regular detective’s outfit that most likely wasn’t designed with the purpose of fitting Fran’s curves so scandalously well on every single right place. And then there was the way she simply stood in the middle of the store with immeasurable confidence. Nothing to hide behind, nothing to lean into, just her in an open space without any issue with Marla’s eyes glued to her. She wasn’t standing there like she owned the place, not exactly. It looked like she couldn’t care less about ownership, but her world consisted of only her, and she didn’t care enough about any authority to give them the power of deciding if she belonged or if she was out of place. Fran carried herself as if the rest of the world’s ideas of right or wrong were mere suggestions. Nothing sounded more appealing to Marla.

“You weren’t exactly in trouble though,” Fran contemplated, reluctantly breaking the silence, “you looked like you had it handled.”

“But you did scare him off,” Marla grinned.

“And you didn’t take the money.”

“Do I look like someone that would have taken the money?”

Fran laughed, because they both knew the answer to that question very well. She walked forward until she could lean her arms on the infamous counter, not quite in front of Marla, just a little to the side. “Maybe you should have,” she finally mused, “this might be bigger than you, gorgeous.”

This development in their interactions came with considerable consequences for Marla, who had underestimated the effect it would have on her to have Fran again standing so close to her. She wouldn’t back down though, she wouldn’t lose her higher ground, but she couldn’t deny the fact that Fran shook her to her core in a magnitude previously unknown to Marla. She couldn’t come up with a reasonable answer until it was obviously too late, so she stayed silent, picked up her pen, and after taking a drag she left it on the counter. This seemed to spark Fran’s attention, who had previously been content to just study Marla’s face from up close and during the daylight.

“So, are you going to offer me one of these,” the brunette wondered, lightly tapping with her fingertip the tip of the pen standing between them, “or a coffee… a drink… should you at least walk me to my car?”

“I will… walk you to your car,” Marla decided, after a quick and not exactly pleasant assessment of the situation. There was nothing she’d love more than to take Fran’s hand and either lead her out of that damned store or guide her to the other side of the locked door of her office. But there were already smoke signals in the air between them that she couldn’t ignore. This could be dangerous, this was possibly great, this was certainly bigger than either of them was accustomed to. Marla was stunned by the undeniable fact that she wasn’t sure how to handle Fran, and equally as unsettled but no less excited about the fact that she had no idea how Fran would handle her. She had no doubt they could handle each other, but until she felt completely confident in a perfect plan of action, she would have to see for how long and how much she could feed this ferocious and inexplicable fire that was burning between them.

As they approached Fran’s vehicle, Marla made two statements. “I will not take the money,” she said, followed by, “and that’s not a car.”

Fran winked, “My mistake.” She leaned back on the motorcycle and focused her attention on the blonde in front of her.

“I’m taking that asshole to court,” Marla managed to say, despite that unexpected and entirely alluring image of Fran standing just like that. She should have known that even the safest option among all that the brunette had offered would still come with a trick to test Marla’s hesitant boundaries.

“For something you did?”

“I’ll have to close either way,” Marla rolled her eyes, “He took me out of business. I have to take something from him. Something big.”

Fran tilted her head. “Do you have experience in court?” she wondered.

“I’m confident I can manage,” Marla smiled.

“Of course,” the other woman chuckled. “Though,” she added, “if only you had… an acquaintance, who happened to be knowledgeable in the shady alleyways of court and would be willing to give you a hand.”

Fran was barely done with her word when suddenly Marla was almost on top of her. Marla had moved quickly and swiftly, standing impossibly close to Fran, somehow not touching, but if any of them were to so much as breathe a little harder than usual their bodies would meet in all the right places. Which was maybe the reason Fran was suddenly holding her breath. Marla had placed both hands on the bike, on either side of Fran’s hips, trapping her in place, while holding her face just inches away from the other woman.

“What do you want,” Marla slowly asked, “Fran?”

“Why do you assume I want something?”

Being softly hit with Fran’s breath on her cheek was an unexpected consequence of Marla’s plan, but she held her ground. Very deliberately, one of her hands moved slowly and confidently to one of the back pockets of Fran’s pants. The brunette, to her credit, her only reaction was a noticeable clench of her jaw, but she stood still while Marla pulled out her phone and mercifully stepped away to let both of them breathe a little easier.

“Unlock it, I’ll save my number,” Marla held out Fran’s own phone for her and proceeded to follow through with her words. 

Fran got her heart rate almost back to normal as she watched Marla quickly tap the screen, and deciding the only right thing to possibly say at that moment was to answer Marla’s question, she said, “Give me a percentage of the money you’ll make with the lawsuit. So I can finally quit the police.”

Beyond pleased with that answer, Marla bit her lip for a moment then returned the phone. “And here I thought you were just trying to have dinner with me,” she said to Fran right before walking away from her, but not before looking back just in time to catch the other woman staring, and adding a final smile she threw over her shoulder, “See you soon, Fran.”

[champagne-bucky]

I.O.U.: II

Summary: Bucky is tired of the youngest Avenger having all of Steve's attention. 

Warnings: age gap (reader is of age), smut, dub/non con, dark!Bucky

Notes: Here’s part 2!! I hope you enjoy it! Please reblog, like, comment, and follow me for more :) 

You awoke to the sunlight peeking through. The sheets wrapped securely around your body. Stretching, you made your way to get dressed for another day of recon. 

Making your way to the bathroom, you brushed your teeth and fixed your hair before heading to the lobby to take advantage of the free breakfast and coffee. Just then you hear someone groan. 

“Wakey, wakey, sleepyheads. Gotta whole day of recon ahead of us.” You cheerfully said as you walked downstairs. 

You decided you weren’t going to let Bucky seeing your body ruin this mission. Every one has a body, it’s just you put yours out on fully display for the person who hates you the most. Running back to the room, both boys were up and ready to get going. 

“How was breakfast, did they have your favorite apple juice.” Bucky teased again. He honestly has no right to be talking to you like that considering a mere few hours ago he was jerking off to your ass and pussy. 

“Ha ha very funny Barnes, should’ve been a comedian instead of a soldier.” You jabbed back while heading to the car.

—

Today was more serious, you were posted back on on your usual spot just waiting for any suspicious activity, but nothing. Until, you see a man giving the infamous Hydra gesture to a woman running a bakery.

That’s odd.

You figure you might as well call it in. At least Sam and Bucky can track someone down. 

Sam and Bucky were posted outside the bakery waiting for their guy to come out. They knew that one slip up would be enough to take the agents out. It was basically confirmed that this was Hydra territory.

“You wanna do the honors or should I?” Bucky asks Sam.

“Please, after me.” Sam get up and busts through the door.

Fucking show off. 

Bucky cocks his gun ready to fight.

—

You lay on the grassy hills in shock watching the scene unfold. Bucky and Sam managed to take out a full building of Hydra agents and you were just sitting like a duck. The village was starting to become more vacant as people were clearing the streets and hiding out. 

“Hey Y/N, we need back up. Nows your time to shine.” Sam called.

You raced down the hills and stealthily made your way through the village. You hadn’t used you powers since the Thanos fight, so you may be a little rusty. However, you proved yourself wrong and began blasting agents left and right. It seemed like there were so many occupying this area. 

Meanwhile, Bucky and Sam were clearing another building to get the files. Once Bucky has them uploaded they began to make their way out. That is until a bomb decided to go off. 

You heard the explosion coming from the distance and levitated you way over. Assessing the damage, unwanted anger rose within you. Bucky and Sam were probably in there. Why else did Hydra choose to bomb this building? Just then the sound of a gun clicking behind your head draws your attention.

“Now, now, little one. Just come with us and we can help you. We don’t want to hurt you.” An agent looked at you with a smirk. 

Tears started forming in your eyes. Sam and Bucky. They were gone, or at least, suffocating under the buildings rubble. You didn’t know what happened you just snapped. They’ve been through way too much to die like this. You were fuming and the aura around your body was turning bright blue. Then, you blinked. 

You don't know what you did. All you know is that there was tons of dead bodies surround you. It looked as if a bigger bomb went off.

"Sam? Bucky?" You yelled out as you began to move chunks of the building away. 

Suddenly, you saw Bucky's metal hand beneath the rubble. You levitated the crumbled concrete off of them and freed them. They staggered out clearly hurt, various bruises and trickles of blood all over their bodies. 

"Kid," Sam looked around at the scene, “ what did you do?” 

Finally being able to look around at the damage, you couldn’t help but gasp. Hundreds upon hundreds of bodies laid on the ground, motionless. You stood frozen, tears threatening to spill. 

I killed all these people. 

While some were Hydra agents you knew you killed innocent civilians as well. You didn’t even realize the gravel shifting below your knees and the hand on your shoulder until it pulled you up.

“C’mon, let’s get out of here.” Sam ushered you to the car.

—

Bucky was throughly impressed. He always underestimated you, but this time you proved yourself beyond worthy regarding your place on the team. However, you didn’t think so.

Boarding the jet, you sat in the back, knees up to your chest, emotionless. So many bodies littered throughout that village, and they just left them there to rot. Well, they wouldn’t rot, surely the government or S.H.I.E.L.D were notified to take care of the problem. 

Sleep didn’t come easy that night. You were tossing and turning so much that Bucky yelled at you to pipe down, stupid enhanced hearing. The boys on the other hand didn’t seemed phased at all. They’ve both seen worse, it’s just that they never thought you were strong enough to wipe out a whole village.

When the jet made its way back to the compound, you attempted to run and hide to your room before Sam caught you. 

“Whoa, whoa, hold up. Listen, kid, you did what you had to do. It’s not your fault. You actually saved us a lot of trouble. So don’t lose any sleep over what happened. Bucky and I have seen and done much worse trust me.” Sam offered you a kind smile before letting you go. 

—

Turns out, Steve was held up for a few more days, meaning you were living in a constant state of anxiety. Steve would be beyond pissed when he found out what happened. He’d probably even kick you off the team.

Bucky realized this and the wheels in his head started turning. Ever since that night he couldn’t get you off his mind. The person he hated the most became his new guilty pleasure. Over the next few days at the compound, he would secretly be following you around. He knew your routine down pat by now, although knowing how much honey you put in your tea isn’t exactly something he cared to know about you. No, Bucky wanted more. He wanted to see your body again, wanted to undress it, kiss it, play with it. He wanted you under him withering and begging for more. Bucky wouldn’t say he had a crush on you, he still is mad that you garner all of Steve’s attention, he just wants you body sexually and nothing more. 

He needed a plan. He needed you, craved for you, but how would he get you? Drunken one nights stands weren’t exactly your thing, hell he’s pretty sure he’s never seen you touch a bottle. Friends with benefits? Nah, you gotta be friends first before that happens. Bucky became obsessed with you more and more as the hours passed. 

On laundry day, he was trying to dry his clothes when he saw that somebody, you, never came back down to get your stuff. 

Just a little peak won’t hurt anybody right? 

Like a madman, Bucky started to dig through your garments. Bras, shorts, shirts, and then he found them, panties. He pick them out and laid them on top of the dryer. Inspecting each one. 

Looks like we have a naughty little thing on our hands don’t we? 

Bucky chuckles darkly and he picks up your deep red lace thong. He smiles and takes a deep long whiff. He wants you to be wearing these when he fucks you for the first time. He imagines you right now: ass up, breast hanging, your tight little pussy begging to be pounded. 

I’ll start off slow. Feel her up a little, get her all nice and wet for me. Fuckkkk she’s gonna be a mess. A few spanks here and there, maybe fill her mouth up, then the show begins. 

Bucky subconsciously put his hand with the panties in his pants and started to jerk off. He’s thinking again. Thinking of all the things he’s do. 

I’m gonna ruin that brat. Gonna show her she’s nothing more than my whore. Gonna show Steve his innocent baby is a filthy cock slut. Gonna tie her down, blindfold her, spank her, fuck I’m gonna make her feel me till the day she dies. 

Bucky came again. Hard. He came through his pants and dirtied the clean underwear. 

“Well, that’s going back in the hamper.”

Bucky chuckles before stuffing the panties in his pocket  

—

Sleep doesn’t come easy to you anymore. You lay awake at night, tossing and turning, every time you shut your eyes the dead bodies are there. A killer, murderer, monster, you can see all the headlines now. 

AVENGER SLAUGHTERS HUNDREDS IN FRANCE.

How were you ever to face Steve and tell him? You can’t imagine his face, he’s gonna be fuming. What will the team think of you? I’m sure Tony will try and lock you away, maybe they’ll stabilize you powers like they did to you and Wanda. God that hurt. You were born with your powers so stabilizing that part of your body is basically like half of your body dying. 

You were a mess. Bags under your eyes constantly, sleep deprived, you missed about all of your schedule training sessions with Sam. Sam understood though, he knows being surrounded by all that death and gore takes a toll on a person one way or another, he just didn’t think you would take it so hard considering the circumstances. 

Bucky was getting antsy. He would see you leave you room less and less. Surely you has been skipping some meals, you looked weak and pale. In that moment Bucky actually has sympathy for you. When he was the soldier he was constantly axing people off left and right. He remembers the screams, cries, blood, he shivers at the thought and pushes them back in his mind. He need to make his move, fast. You haven’t noticed the missing panties yet, not that you would be able to recognize them now.

Bucky thought about sneaking into your room while you were asleep. Maybe grab himself a fresh pair of panties and jack off to your unconscious body, but you don’t sleep anymore. He would walk past your room at night and try to find out if you were awake, he would hear your soft cries and the bed moving every second. He knows you need this, something to take the edge off. 

—-

“Alright kid, you’ve wallowed long enough. I’m tired of you dodging our training sessions. If you expect to be pulling your own on this team then I suggest you get your ass down to the training room in 5 minutes.” Sam yelled at you. 

Sam has enough of your despair. You didn’t understand why. People died and you were the cause of it all. Bucky watched your altercation with Sam. He didn’t understand either. He guessed you were afraid of how Steve would react. To be fair, Steve didn’t want you out on the field in combat, so maybe she’s worried he’ll get mad at her for that. 

Bucky saw you slump on couch, sulking. He decided to talk to you. This was just an opportunity for him to get close to you, he really couldn’t care less about hearing what you had to say. 

“What’s you problem.” He asks. 

“I killed them,” tears are starting to form again,   “all those innocent people are dead because of me.”

Innocent? 

Then, something clicked in Bucky’s head. It was evil sure, but he need to feel something with you again. 

“Steve’s going to kill me, Bucky. He’s gonna kick me off the team for sure.” You start crying. 

“Steve’s not gonna kill you, because he’s not gonna find out.” Bucky finally spoke. 

“Huh?” 

“I’ll do you a favor. I’ll tell Stevie you were an angel the whole time. I’ll tell him I ordered you to do the strike. You didn’t want to, got it? In return you gotta do something for me okay?” 

You eyes lit up. Bucky’s showing you actual kindness, a hint of friendship even? 

“Yes, yes, Bucky, thank you! I’ll do anything for you I swear, whatever you want!” You smiled and hugged Bucky. He got a little hard when you tits pressed against his chest. 

You walked down to the training room. Bucky knew what he was doing. It was awful, but it would be worth it in the end. You both needed this. You both wanted it, even if you didn’t admit it. 

You thought those people were innocent? I guess that falls on Bucky. He remembered when he got back to his room after France. That lone mission report he was suppose to give you, he forgot. He’s glad he did though. Bucky didn’t have the guts to tell you that they weren’t innocent people. You single handily wiped out an entire village full of Hydra agents in disguise. That was one less base to worry about. Really saved them months of work trying to tear it down. Of course he was gonna tell Steve. It would get out eventually when it makes national news. However, Bucky would never tell you that. 

tags: reblog to be added!! 

  @lacontroller1991 @ladifreakingda @chipilerendi @crookedlymassivecrown

[scorchviox]

Your Touch [ShigarakixOC]: Chapter 9

Chapter Index

Shigaraki and Souseiki trudged through mud as they made their way closer to a village. The rain would not let up and the blue-haired teen was growing more irritated by the droplet. The two had been sent out to the countryside a week ago by Kurogiri; who received word of some deeply needed information. This information being some newfound study the "doctor", as Shigaraki called him, wanted to press forward with his research. Shigaraki and Souseiki had been out in the empty country all week trying to find the physician who had uncovered said information. By word of mouth, the two found out that said physician lived in the village they were currently approaching. "This is so stupid," Souseiki spoke up through chattering teeth. Cold winds had been blowing all throughout the day and this new late downpour was not helping at all. "How are you not cold?" She asked pulling her jacket closer to her body as if the wet fabric was going to warm her rapidly depleting temperature.

"I am. I just don't tell you every little inconvenience thrown my way," said Shigaraki as they arrived at the village's entrance. He led the way to a building that still had its lights on so late into the night.

Souseiki walked into the establishment closely behind him and stared wide-eyed at the inside. It was a tavern. The seats were full and so were the tables. "Um, Shigaraki," she said in a small voice.

His elbow jutted back and lightly nudged her, "What'd I just say?" The brunette sighed and motioned as if she were wiping her mouth and followed his step up to the bartender. He easily caught his attention and asked, "Do you know where we can rent out a room for the night?" He asked in his usual tone.

The bartender, a large, muscular man with tan skin starred down at the two, "How old are you two? Shouldn't you be going home?" He leered at them.

"We just need a room for the night. Just tell us where we can find one," Shigaraki said once more, but this time his tone of voice growing more irate with every word. He didn't like it when people wasted his time or when the underestimated him for his age.

The bartender clicked his tongue and turned away, "Go home."

"Souseiki,"

The addressed girl whined, "Tomura," she said drawing out his name. Shigaraki snapped his attention to her and with that, she raised her hands in mock defeat. Souseiki stepped back the appropriate amount and watched as Shigaraki jumped the bar with ease and kicked the back of the bartender's knees.

The man groaned as he fell face first, but turned quickly on his back to look up at Shigaraki. "You little-"

"Look, I just need some directions," he said leaning over him. Shigaraki snapped his neck the side causing his bones to pop. He casually rolled his shoulders back and picked up a bottle of whiskey and watched as it decayed. "Just tell me where I can get a room and I won't turn this dusty ass place into actual dust,"

For a tall and muscular man, he crumpled easily at the sight of a scrawny teenager using his quirk. "three buildings down, old lady Sano rents out rooms to travelers," he blubbers out as Shigaraki steps back.

Souseiki walked closer to the bar and looked at the man as Shigaraki hopped the bar once more. "That wasn't so bad, was it?" She said with a wide smile towards the man before she turned tail and walked out into the storm with Shigaraki once more. "He said she was an old lady. I'll talk to her if you want me to," She offered glancing up at him. The blue-haired teen only shrugged his shoulders as they stood in front of a home that had all the lights off. Souseiki raised her fist and knocked on the door.

They waited patiently, then the door slowly peeled open and an older woman peeped her head out. Her salt and pepper hair sleeked back and her eyes squinted into the night causing her wrinkles to become far more accentuated. "Oh, dear!" She exclaimed once she made out their figures, "Come on in, come in! It's raining cats and dogs out there," she commented as she opened the door wider to reveal she was holding a lantern in her hand. "What are you children doing out there in the cold?" She asked closing the door as they all entered.

"Well, we were looking for a place to stay the night while the storm calmed," Souseiki smiled despite the darkness concealing all her features. "Do you happen to have a room?"

Sano raised her lantern a little higher and eyed the teenagers. She watched as the second didn't face her and seemed to almost hide behind the girl. She squinted at Shigaraki and spoke, "I only have one room, dearies. I couldn't possibly let you two young ones share a room."

Souseiki tilted her head in question, "We don't mind at all."

"No, sweetie. It isn't always safe with your men. Especially at you-"

At the explanation, a light went off in Souseiki's head and she quickly made a disgusted face, "Ewww, no. Ma'am, he's my brother1"

This response prompted the old woman to gasp in surprise, "I am so sorry, sweeties," she said with a hand over her mouth, "Right this way then," she said scurrying up some stairs. "The couch should be big enough for your brother and there are extra blankets in the wardrobe. Help yourselves to them," Sano explained as she opened the door to a room. It was large with the before mentioned couch and a bed. There were wooden nightstands on either side of the wooden bed that was right under a window with open curtains. "Breakfast is early in the morning. I'll wake you two," she smiled as she lit some candles on the nightstand, "Have a good night now."

Souseiki waved to Sano as she left the room. "I'm not sleeping on the couch," said Shigaraki as soon as the door closed.

"What? I'm not sleeping on it either," she said turning on her heel to face him. Shigaraki had his back to her as he shrugged his jacket off, "Are you even listening to me?"

"I am," he sighed as he yanked his wet shirt off, "Look, we can just share the bed." The brunette's cheeks burned red as he turned to face her. It wasn't Shigaraki's body that caused this effect, but it was the fact that he was half-naked before her. His body wasn't the most ravishing to lay your eyes upon anyway. The situation was just embarrassing to her. "It's like sitting on the same couch."

"It is not like sitting on the couch at all!"

Shigaraki sighed and slid under the covers without another word; leaving Souseiki to fume quietly in the dark. She stood there staring at the back of his head and listened to his soft breathing.

She tried to rationalize in her mind as she sat on the couch and slowly took her shoes off. "This is Shigaraki," she thought "He's just him. Shigaraki is a good guy, he's not weird at all, so why should I be acting weird?" Her thoughts went on like this until she took a deep breath and slapped her hands against her cheeks. "I'm fine. This is fine," the brunette said as she pulled her own wet shirt off and hung it against the wardrobe's open door. She crossed to his side and picked up his wet clothing as well and hung them before blowing out the candles. "It's nothing," she mumbled to herself as she crawled under the covers as well.

"Took you a while," Shigaraki muttered as he snaked his hand under the pillow and clutched it close to his head now. Souseiki gave a small grunt as she looked up at the chipping ceiling. "You called me Tomura earlier."

The girl's brows creased as if she had a problem with the way the paint on the ceiling was breathing down on her. "Well," she paused pulling the covers up to her neck, "that is your name, isn't it?"

"Call me Tomura,"

"Okay," she yawned, "Whatever you say, Tomura."

Come morning, Sano did not go against her word. She banged against the door. "Good morning, dears!" She calls out, "Breakfast is ready!" Without receiving a response she walked away leaving the two to get ready.

In bed, Souseiki groaned as she slowly opened her eyes and found herself being a small spoon, in a way. Shigaraki had an arm laying over her neck and the other hand just above her head as it lay under his like a pillow. "Shigaraki," she mumbled still tired. He didn't move so she moved out of his loose grip, "Shigaraki," she called again shaking his shoulder lightly. "Wake up."

"Tomura," he said in a groggy voice, "What happened to Tomura?"

Souseiki rubbed her eyes as she walked to her hanging shirt, "Right. I'm sorry, Tomura," She said as she tugged her shirt off the wardrobe door and pulled it on. The wooden bed creaked as Tomura sat up straight and scratched at his neck while the other rested on a bent knee. The brunette turned in her spot to see if he was changing, but all she saw were those hooded, red eyes looking straight back at her. "Something wrong?" She asked while tilting her head. Those auburn eyes flicked from her to his clothing. A scoff escaped past her lips as she took his clothes in her hand. "Here, Tomura," she sang as she leaned one knee on the mattress and stretched the clothes out to him.

"Children!" called the old woman's voice so loud it could be felt all throughout the room. Tomura grimaced before they both walked out of the room and down the stairs looking for the kitchen. "In here!" The two followed the woman's voice and found themselves in a room with her and three other men. "Sit down and eat!" She gestured to two empty seats.

Souseiki sat down between a small old man and Tomura and began eating her already served breakfast. The two didn't take long to finish their food, pay, and leave. They needed to continue on their search for the paperwork that was requested. Souseiki had inquired about it, but the old woman knew nothing of a man performing research in their village, but that single piece of knowledge would not deter them.

The Doctor was rarely wrong about these types of things so Tomura wouldn't take "no" for an answer so easily. He knew what the Doctor wanted should be in this rickety old place. However, everyone on the street that they asked had the same answer. They had no doctor who was conducting research. There had to be someone left who knew an ounce of knowledge on this subject, right? "What about the bartender?" Souseiki piped up as they walked away from a small pharmacy. "You know how they say drunk people just say everything? Maybe he's heard something."

"I really don't want to go ask that shit bird," Tomura mumbled as they walked closer to the tavern they entered last night.

"Wait outside then. I'm pretty confident I can ask a question by myself," Souseiki quipped with a small smile on her lips. The brunette walked through the doors and stepped up to the bar. The sam muscled individual from the night prior stood with his back towards her. "Excuse me!" She shouted over the loud music playing.

Without missing a beat the man turned around and eyed Souseiki with the same glare he held before. "You again?"

"Quick question," she smiled up at him as she slid into a stool, "We heard that there was a doctor here who was researching something on quirks. Would you know anything about that?"

The wiped his hands on a towel and turned to finish a drink he was making, "Yeah, there's rumors about a doctor who walked into the woods one day and never returned. Could that be your person of interest?"

Souseiki nodded as she traced the lines on the wooden counter, "Maybe, got anything else?"

"Ever heard of a gorgon?" He asked as he set a glass in front of an old greying man, "Don't look into their eyes, kid."

She scoffed as she stood up, "Thanks," she muttered leaving.

The sun peeked out from between the heavy rain clouds and the wind grew stronger as she walked out, "So?" Asked Tomura as he pushed himself off the building.

She shrugged and said, "So we're after a fairytale?"

"That's so stupid."

Her feet hit the pavement heavily with every step. Small clouds of warm breath appeared with every exhale, her heart raced within her chest with every fearful step. "Do something!" She screamed at her partner who ran alongside her.

"Don't you think I would have done something by now if I could?" Replied Shigaraki irritated by the situation rather than the company. Behind them chased an incredibly large individual with a heteromorphic quirk. "If you hadn't been like 'Oh, Shigaraki, where am I suppose to go?' So damn loud we would be close enough to stop it," he said with a high pitched mocking tone.

Souseiki sucked her teeth and twirled around as she was taking off her black jacket, "Can't do shit without me," she muttered under her breath as she started running towards the outraged woman, "I'll get you close!" She threw her jacket in the woman's face in order to blind her. The snakes she had as hair soon disappeared when Souseiki grew closer. The brunette looked back to shout an order, but saw him already hot on her heels. Her feet pushed forward to get him out of her range and without a word he knew he was far enough to use decay. "Close enough?" Came her winded laughter.

Shigaraki looked up at her and raised a brow at the bag she clutched onto. She didn't have that a second ago, but he didn't question her on it. He opted to snatch it out of her grasp and rifle through it, "Cool, she had the papers in here."

"You owe me a jacket."

Shigaraki glanced at her then the papers, "Cry me a river," There was a long pause as they walked away from their mess and Shigaraki looked over the papers. "Like I said, stupid. Why'd I have to get this," he mumbles to himself after shoving them into Souseiki's chest.

Shigaraki snatched the bag and crossed it over her torso, "You're not interested in why she had the papers in there?"

"I want to know why you grabbed it if you didn't know," he said as he waved the papers in her face.

Souseiki shrugged her shoulders and took the papers, "Kind of wanted to see what necessities a gorgon carries."

The teenager scratched at his neck and led the way out of the forest, "Okay?"

Next

[fallout4holmes]

Nuka-World 2

A rough voice over the train's intercom introduced himself as Porter Gage. He informed us we'd been set up. Harvey had only told us half the truth; we were still headed for a death trap, but this Gage fella had a proposition for us if we survived whatever waited at the end. I can't say I was comforted, but at least the ride was something. Part of me hadn't expected the old track to take us all the way to the park, but it did the job. Just goes to show you shouldn't underestimate an old piece of machinery. You'd think I'd remember that, of all people.

It was a pretty grim locale we stepped off in. The place could give a super mutant nightmares. A manic voice over the ancient PA system announced two new contestants for something called The Gauntlet.

"Holmes, I hate to say I told you so, but…"

"Focus on surviving now, scold me later."

I chuckled.

"The Gauntlet" was a deadly obstacle course set up for raider entertainment. It was littered with bodies of unfortunate innocents who had been forced to run through it. We found out what had happened to those missing Gunners; none had made it out. One of them had been ready to make a run for it. One more mission, wait for a way out, and leave the Gunners forever. Start a new life. Makes my gears grind just thinking about it. The animals running this little event were in for a hell of a surprise.

Holmes and I didn't give them much of a show, being more concerned with disarming every trap we spotted than blowing ourselves to bits. The mirelurk pit was a surprise, and the gas chamber was a nasty touch. Never been so scared for my partner, seeing him choking to breathe as we scrambled to find a way to shut it off… but we did. We made it out, made it all the way to the big finale.

A battle with the boss of the raiders, gladiator style. He was in power armor. We were not.

Gage came on over an intercom in the locker room before the arena, such as it was. He wanted the guy in charge beat. Considering the guy in charge wanted to kill us, we were willing to take some advice. The arena used to be a bumper car ring, and the boss's power armor was hooked up to the electrical grid. Good thing Gage told us about a squirt gun in the locker room. Real helpful.

To say we were doubtful would be an understatement, but it wasn’t like we had much of a choice. Wouldn’t you know it, the damn thing worked? Holmes shorted out the armor, and we gave that tin can everything we’ve got. Helps to know a guy who teaches soldiers the best way to fight a suit of armor. The raider boss went down and didn’t get back up.

That wasn't exactly the ending the audience expected.

"Gage, what the hell just happened?" someone shouted.

To be honest, I didn't pay much attention to the uneasy crowd as I checked in with Holmes, "You hurt?"

"I'm fine, Valentine."

"Plan for getting out?"

Holmes suddenly froze, listening to the raiders, "I believe escape is going to be a great deal more complicated than expected."

Gage was addressing the crowd, "Hey, we talked about this! He survived the Gauntlet. He was smart enough to take my advice, and strong enough to kill Colter. He's what we need. So how about we show some respect for our new leader, eh?"

Their what?

The crowd hesitantly cheered, and Gage shooed them out, “All right, all right. Now, get the hell out of here. I'll show the boss around.” The crowd slowly dispersed as Holmes and I approached the raider sporting a scrap metal eye-patch. “What'd I tell you?” Gage grinned, “Worked like a charm.”

“So it seems,” Holmes said.

“Guess you really wanted the guy dead,” I muttered.

Gage glanced my way with a surprised chuckle and talked to Holmes, “I get that you have no idea what's going on, and everything is coming at you real fast, but you need to listen. Taking out Colter wasn't just a last minute decision, it was something a few of us here have been working on for a while. Now that he's actually gone, we've got ourselves a vacancy in the Overboss department. And guess what... you just got the job. All I'm asking is that you trust me on this and give it a shot. I swear it'll be worth it.”

“Why me?” Holmes asked.

“We'll get into that later. Now, I'm sure you got a lot of questions, but this ain't the place. Meet me at the Overboss'— your new quarters, the restaurant on top of good old Fizztop Mountain. We can talk there.”

He led the way out of the arena, and into Nuka-Town, USA.

First thing I saw was a robotic Bottle mascot walking around. Second thing I saw was a raider intimidating a woman in rags caught taking a nap. Third thing was the red light on the woman’s collar.

“Holmes,” I kept my voice low as we walked.

“I see it.”

“How the hell are we gonna get out, and how the hell are we gonna help?”

“I cannot make bricks without clay. Our best hope right now is to play along, keep from being killed by an entire park full of raiders, until we know exactly what we’re dealing with. We need more data before we can form a plan.”

And so we walked. The raiders left us alone, the people in slave collars tried not to be noticed. One of them couldn't have avoided us if he tried.

"Hey. Just wanted to say, no hard feelings, all right?" Harvey was the only person with a collar who wasn't in rags. My desire to punch the guy softened quite a bit, seeing that red light blinking on his neck. He was nervous, but mostly just tired. Hell, I felt sorry for him.

So did Holmes. "I know, Harvey, I understand."

"Thank God," Harvey breathed in relief. "If it's any consolation, I'm glad you made it. I lost my real family when Colter and his gangs took this place from us. Now, these traders are all I have left. They're my family now. Every time Colter sent me out to lure people into The Gauntlet, I didn't have a choice. I had to do it or he'd kill someone I cared about. I'm just... sorry you had to get caught up in all this."

"Did you ever fail to bring someone in?" Holmes asked.

Harvey shook his head, "Never. Couldn't afford to. It used to be me and another guy they'd send out. He thought he'd try and escape while he was out there… They found him and made him watch as they tortured and killed two of our own. Then they sent him through the Gauntlet themselves. After that, the choice was obvious. Like I said, I'm sorry you got caught up in all this."

"It's all right, Harvey," Holmes said softly, sort of like calming a wounded animal. "I understand."

"Good to hear, boss." Harvey managed a faint smile, "Never figured I'd find myself in this situation before. I thought for sure I'd be a goner. Well, better get back to it." And he went on his way.

It became clear as we walked that the raiders fell into at least three distinct groups. Some were decently dressed with a fondness for black, others were hooded and carried an assortment of knives with their firearms, and the third were the most colorful bunch, opting for animal head masks and bright outfits. All of them watched us curiously, and looked away when we noticed them. News of their Overboss's defeat must have spread.

And then there was the lady dressed like a Nuka-Cola souvenir shop.

Her name was Sierra Petrovita, and she came all the way from the Capital Wasteland for a chance to find the original Nuka-Cola formula. Supposedly, she runs a museum. Somehow, I had a feeling the museum ran a little more toward personal obsession, but who am I to judge? In order to find the Nuka-Cola formula, she figured she had to collect a code hidden in pieces all over the park. Find the pictures of the co-mascot Cappy, look at them through special glasses, and see the clues. It sounded like something out of an old-time radio show challenge for kids. She took it seriously.

Holmes sighed as he accepted a pair of bottlecap-shaped sunglasses and a holotape of hints, “If I see any, I’ll let you know.”

We moved on.

“She’s gonna get herself killed,” I muttered.

“The raiders won’t let her leave the immediate area,” Holmes said, “so likely she’ll get bored before going home.”

“You really think that woman is going to leave before she finds what she’s looking for?”

“... You have a point.”

We finally reached Fizztop Mountain, an external lift waiting to take us up to the restaurant on the top. Gage was waiting for us.

“Welcome home, boss. The digs are yours now—hope you like the look. Colter had some peculiar tastes. But this view is something, huh?”

You could see the whole park, which was certainly something. Holmes glanced around, nonchalantly checking for any way out that wasn’t straight down. There wasn’t one. “You still haven’t explained why you would put me in charge?”

Gage sneered, “You may have noticed that our former Overboss, Colter, was a fuckin' asshole. And that's me being nice. Ended up being poison for this whole operation.” He shrugged, “Way I see it, surviving the Gauntlet means you got what it takes. Or at least the potential. For a good while now, we've needed someone who can get shit done. Make real progress.”

"You've gotta be kidding," I said.

He glanced at me, then back at Holmes. "Seen a couple Institute robots once or twice years ago, but never with clothes on. The robots are creepy as shit, but Institute tech sure is fun to play with, huh?”

“Mr. Gage, kindly explain what the bloody hell is going on,” Holmes fumed, “before I lose my patience.”

“I just told you!” Gage sighed, “Ok, listen. There are three raider gangs that run the show at Nuka-World— the Disciples, the Operators, and the Pack. And yeah, if the names didn't give it away, these ain't your typical raiders, and these morons don't exactly play nice with each other. Thanks to Colter, this place is a powder keg just waiting to blow sky high. One wrong move, and we're going to have a bloodbath on our hands. I think you have what it takes to turn things around and keep these gangs from tearing each other apart.”

Holmes raised an eyebrow, “And why would I do that?”

Gage grinned, “Oh, come on. It ain't that hard to see. You take whatever you want, from whoever you want. Anybody has a problem with that, you cut 'em down. You telling me that doesn't sound like even just a little bit of fun to you?”

“Not in the least.”

Gage scowled, but something clearly clicked and he… I wouldn’t say smiled, but it was the sort of thing you see a punk do when he thinks he’s got you beat. “You know, I've heard about you. Took me a minute, but leader-type runnin’ around with a synth? In charge of the Minutemen, ain't ya? No idea why you'd waste your time with those has-beens. I ain't no genius, but far as I'm concerned, history already proved what they're after ain't gonna work. But this? Nuka-World... Shit, this was the dream. Huge, built like a goddamn fortress. You run this, the world is yours. And, uhh, you try and leave now... that ain't gonna go over so well.”

Holmes frowned, “I see.”

Gage tried to smooth things over, be chummy. “Look, I know these gangs. Been workin' with them or against them for years now. I'll help you, okay? Walk you through everything.”

Holmes was quiet for a long time. “Tell me about the gangs,” he said.

Gage took this to be a good sign. “Quite the assorted bunch,” he nodded. "All used to hate each other, and I guess maybe they still do to a degree. Took a shitload of work to get them all on board with this idea, so I really don't want to lose them now. If I were you, I'd start with the Disciples. They might all be crazy - probably are, in fact - but Nisha has her reasonable moments. Then you've got the Operators. Spoiled rich kids, but doesn't mean they ain't ruthless killers. If you can impress Mags, she'll listen to you. And then there's The Pack. I'm not sayin' they're savages, but... well, shit. They're savages. I don't know how Mason keeps them on a leash. Now, first thing you gotta do is get the gangs behind you. Without them supporting you, you're not getting shit done. You don't have to trust 'em. Hell, you don't even have to like 'em. But you need them to respect you enough to follow you.”

“And your advice for how I should go about it?” Holmes asked.

Gage huffed, stern, “The Disciples like violence. The bloodier, the better. Tell 'em they'll get plenty of it. The Operators are in it mostly for the money. They get promised caps, they'll listen to you. The Pack... Hell, I don't know. They follow whoever they think is the strongest. Show some teeth, I guess. Look, technically you're already the new Overboss, right? That's like, half the work done right there. Just... meet the leaders. Talk with 'em, flex your muscles a little. Show 'em you mean business.”

“I’ll need some time to think it over.”

The raider didn’t care for that answer, but he wasn’t willing to give up yet. “Shit... Okay, okay. Just, don't take too long, all right? I'll do my best to hold things together, but don't leave me hanging here. And don't mistake the gangs out here for being the same as those Commonwealth saps. Gangs out here, they got agendas. And they're gonna expect results. You can't afford to forget that.”

“I understand. I will want to see more of the park before I decide on my next course of action. I won’t ‘leave you hanging.’”

We got on the lift and made our way back down to the ground.

“Fine mess this is,” I sighed.

Holmes nodded. “For now, I believe we have no choice but to play along. We’ll meet the leaders, interview the traders enslaved here, explore the park in search of any possible way out or resources that might help us.”

I hated to ask my next question, but, well. Being a dad added a new dimension to life-threatening missions. “You talked to Preston and Danse about Shaun, right?”

The slightest shift in his expression, a wince you’d never see if you weren’t looking for it, and he was all business, “Of course. They’re more than willing to act as guardians, should the need ever arise.” He laughed, just a little, “So is everyone else in Sanctuary, for that matter. You asked Liam about Shaun seeing the Minutemen Research Center in Covenant?”

“Of course I did,” I resisted the urge to take his hand. “They’ll be happy to show him around, once we get out of here.”

“Of course,” he nodded once, and the emotions went cold. Holmes was focused on getting out of this death trap alive, and God help those who stood in our way.

[elopez7228]

Scenic Route 32/47

Read on AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/18268208/chapters/43229774 

Start over : https://elopez7228.tumblr.com/post/620919089893933056/scenic-route-0147

***

Leia was slow to respond to the incoming phone call. She had spent many restless nights as the day of the hearing drew closer, and tonight had been no exception. She had only recently been able to slip into a dark and troubled sleep.

She knew she had to be strong for her people, keep her head held high. She had no right to back out now. It was her job to keep morale high and to assure the others that it would all work out—though that also meant that the number of people she could confide in had dwindled. She had spent many nights consumed by her own thoughts and fears.

Her phone rang five times before going silent.

This was her personal device, no one—well, practically no one—had access to that number. It happened infrequently enough that it was enough to rouse her despite her tiredness.

The clock on the screen read 5 AM. She had barely managed two hours of sleep. But the fact that someone had called her at such an ungodly hour using this number meant that it was important. She took a moment to collect herself and rub the sleep out of her eyes before calling back.

“Skywalker.”

“Leia, it’s Kaydel, I’m sorry for calling you so early but there was an email sent to the organization’s public address and I think you really need to see it, now.”

“An email?” Leia repeated somewhat incredulously.

“Yes, I’ll stay on the line while you read it. I’m ready for any follow-up orders.” Kaydel responded shakily.

Leia frowned. If there was something wrong with the trial documents, they knew to call Amilyn and the legal team. If something had happened to Luke, he had this number himself. What the hell was it about an email of all things that had the girl scared to death?

Putting Kaydel on speaker phone, she opened up her inbox and scrolled through the most recent messages. The public account usually only received spam and donation-related emails. What on earth was going on?

from : ReyJakku@gmail.com

         To : info@earth-soldiers.org

         07/08/2018 : 4:46 AM

         Subject : BB8

         Hi Leia,

         Looks like you left me a wrong number, I’m sure it was an accident! I didn’t know how else to reach you so I hope you see this...

         It’s going well so far, Wyoming is magnificent.

         I ran into your son Ben, he was performing at a local concert. What a small world! He offered to take BB8 to his uncle by himself.

         I’m thinking it would be a great idea for BB8 to stay in the family. Would you have a problem with that? Let me know,

         Cheers!

         Rey

         0044 (0) 7881 235 562

Leia’s gasp turned into a coughing fit so violent that she had to put the phone down. Leaning over her nightstand, she groped for the water bottle that she kept there.

“Leia? Are you okay?” Though muffled, Kaydel’s voice sounded worried.

Leia took a long sip of water, trying to calm her breathing as she wiped away a few tears that had been brought on by her sudden reaction. The phone was back  in hand immediately.

“Thank you for the warning, Kay. No new orders. I’m going to handle this one myself. I’ve deleted the message, and not a word to anyone about this for now, am I clear?”

“Crystal.”

Once the conversation was over, Leia allowed her legs to give in. She slumped onto the bed, hands trembling.

She hadn’t seen it coming.

Posing as her son Ben Solo to get Rey to hand over the dog? It was, ironically, a perfect ruse.

The boy never ceased to amaze her. She underestimated him at every turn. Every time she took him for a fumbling idiot, he thoroughly managed to turn the tables on her. Well, he was her son after all. She supposed she should be proud.

Time was running out. She had to reach Rey before it was too late.

But there was no room for error here, the stakes were too high. She could ruin it all with the wrong words, with the wrong reaction.

Leia jotted down Rey’s number before deleting the email. She also made sure to delete it from her “trash” folder. Next, she went to the bathroom, taking longer than usual to braid and pin her long  grey hair. It gave her time to collect her thoughts again. She took the time to dress carefully, make herself a cup of coffee, and sit down at the kitchen table in front of the telephone.

Rey couldn’t sleep after the events of that morning. She decided instead to get dressed for the day and busy herself with taking down the tent and gathering the rest of her scattered possessions. She felt a pang of longing mixed with desire as she picked up the clothes that had been strewn on the ground. She couldn’t help but remember the way that Ben had made love to her, right on top of the Falcon. It wasn’t that long ago but it felt like a world away.

She replayed the scene of his betrayal over and over in her head as she folded her clothes and packed up the car. She fumed at the thought that he had still sought to manipulate her.

Rey wondered what to do next. Go sightseeing again? Somehow she didn’t feel up to it anymore. Drive straight to California? That would mean saying goodbye to her itinerary.

Curse Leia Skywalker for dragging her into a conflict that was none of her business...Now she had come within an inch of her life multiple times—she would absolutely love to nominate Syed Ren for a Nobel Peace Prize—and now her holiday plans were ruined.

Turning on her phone for the first time since last night (battery conservation 101), she saw the voicemail icon flashing with a new message notification.

Her heart constricted in her chest because she knew exactly who it would be. Her thumb slid over the icon to open the application anyway. Ben Solo. Should she erase it? Should she bother to listen to it at all, did he even deserve that?

The temptation to hit “delete” was undeniable, but her curiosity won out. Her heart hammered as she pressed “play”.

She could feel her features crumbling as she listened to his words. It took her a second to process the new information.

His attempt at an apology was dramatic self-flagellation as usual. Blah-blah-nail-me-to-a-cross-my-love and all that. She really didn’t have time for this nonsense, he shouldn’t be the one whining here.

But the part about running to the police because “two killers were on her trail” was enough to justify not deleting the message.

Ben fucking Solo had some explaining to do, considering that literally all of his Saturday night bar mates were some kind of new wave punk assassins.

She was in the middle of feeding BB8 when an epiphany occurred. Scrambling for her phone, she typed out a very important email. By the time she hit “send” it was 6 AM (or 5 AM in California, she supposed).

She was hardly surprised when she received a response within fifteen minutes. When her phone buzzed the caller ID was unknown, but she knew it was Leia Skywalker. Rey took a deep breath. She knew that by sending that email she had turned the tables on them. Now, it was her turn.

“Yes, hello?”

“Hello, Rey? It’s Leia Skywalker. I’m sorry for calling you so early in the day but I figured since you emailed me you must be awake.”

Rey feigned surprise.

“Oh, hello Leia! I didn’t even recognize your number...lovely weather in Denver I hope?”

“In Den—oh yes, the weather here is fine,” Leia responded, seemingly shaken by the unexpected question. “Rey, how is BB8 doing, is she okay?”

“BB8? Of course! She’s been such a great road trip companion, she’s so cute and we’ve gotten so used to each other.”

“Is she...with you?”

Rey blinked. When was Leia going to stop pretending?

“Yeah, for now. I’m dropping her off with Ben this afternoon, actually. He said he was going to San Francisco to visit his uncle anyway and I guess I couldn’t possibly refuse him,” she replied as innocently as she could.

On the other side, Leia sounded like she breathed a sigh of relief.

“Rey, no, I think this isn’t a good idea...I would rather have her stay with you.”

“Why.”

It came out harsher than anticipated. Rey found herself unable to smile any longer.

Leia was silent for a moment, sensing the change of tone. She must have known she was missing something because she sighed ruefully.

“Rey, tell me the truth, where is BB8?”

“No Leia, you’re the one who has to tell me the truth. Why did you suddenly change your number?”

Straight to the point. Leia hesitated.

“To protect you.”

“Protect me from what, your own deceptions?”

“It’s a long story, Rey. But you have to keep BB8 with you, every step of the way. Don’t let Ben near her.”

“Oh believe me, Madam Skywalker, I have all the time in the world. In fact, I think I could really use a long story, given that my normal life has been upended by the godforsaken, murderous “Knights of Ren”. Thank you for that, by the way. This is not how I wanted to spend my time, so I really think you owe me an explanation.”

The older woman sighed again. Rey was right. In her blind panic to strike FORCE as quickly as possible, she had forgotten the human factors involved. She had put this innocent girl in danger.

She was clearly resourceful and capable, but she was innocent all the same. She deserved the truth.

Ever so carefully, Leia began her story. Starting with her parents’ company, the betrayal of her mother by her father, his fall from corporate grace, and then the massive culture shift under Snoke’s leadership. As the new director, Snoke had sold shares of the family business to their competitors through fraudulent financial schemes, gaining enough political influence to become the president of the board. Then he came for Luke and Leia, who had been attempting to independently audit his financial gains.

Finally, he was able to turn Leia’s own son, Ben, against her. He offered him everything she never could: money, power, and a prestigious title.

Rey paid close attention. The backstory gave her a lot of context for what she had already known from her web searches. But it still didn’t answer her biggest question.

“Leia, where do I fit into all of this?”

Rey, Leia admitted, was a Golden Opportunity (trademark pending)...truly one in a million, too good to pass up, really. In the Leia’s line of work, one had to make decisions rapidly—often in high-stakes strategic situations with difficult choices and volatile conditions. The situation could devolve at any given moment.

How could Earth Soldiers get the micro-SD, that contained all of the evidence of FORCE’s illegal insider trading under Snoke and Hux, to San Francisco without triggering a defensive strike? Leia’s solution was to use a clean hand. Who better than someone who was going on a haphazard road trip across the country with no agenda and no political motives or alliances whatsoever? Rey was the perfect messenger.

What Leia hadn’t counted on was Ben’s intervention. He crashed through the plan like a bull in a china shop. Brash, but incredibly effective. Underestimating her son always had proven to be her fatal flaw.

Rey took the time to absorb it all. On it’s face, Leia’s strategy was questionable, but not impossible.

“You should have told me all this at the very beginning.”

“If I had, would you have taken the job?”

“Probably not. But that’s not the point! You had no right to put my life in danger over a personal conflict. Especially without my knowledge. What am I to you? Just collateral damage?”

On the other side, Leia’s shoulders slumped. She couldn’t respond. She had made some questionable decisions in her lifelong conflict against FORCE, and it wore her down on some days. Sometimes she was too quick, too rash for her own good. She thought back to her days in the army, how she had always been surrounded by comrades-in-arms who strived for the same mission. But real life wasn’t like that.

Rey didn’t need to hear that, probably didn’t want to hear it either.

“You’re my only hope,” Leia said simply. “And if the Knights of Ren are after you I can send someone to escort you.”

This would alert all of FORCE’s allies, they would all target the Millenium Falcon at once. But Rey didn’t deserve to be sacrificed for a cause that wasn’t her own.

“Luckily, I’m not done here. I think I still have a card to play. Can I call you at this number—or are you going to disappear again?”

“You can keep it, as long as you memorize it. Please, I don’t want to be traced.”

“Understood. You’ll hear from me soon.”

Rey hung up. The very next person she called was Ben Solo.

[littledreamybeth]

Leaving you

A/N: This is bullshit... I really should stop writing forever... But you decide so here we go... sorry for any kinds of mistakes...

Summary: Harry’s public life becomes to much for Y/N

All my life I had been the one who’s heart got broken every damn time, but never had I imagined that one day I would be the one to break someone else’s heart. Especially if that person didn’t do anything severe.

Especially if that person was Harry Styles; the kindest, loveliest and the most amazing person I’ve ever met and had been with.

When I chose to date him, but I hadn’t expected to feel miserable as I was doing now.

I’ve really thought I was capable of enduring all the hardships that our relation and Harry’s public life brought along, however, I came to conclusion that I had been terribly mistaken and had totally underestimated myself. The constant hate plus cyberbullying, the paparazzi being hot on my heels for 24/7 straight and thousands of cheating rumors circling around on tabloids about my boyfriend apparently meeting another hot super model behind my back- all of these incidents just overweighed my mental capacity and added even more fuel to the fire, namely; my fucked up insecurities. This heavy burden was more than I could ever handle or carry on my shoulders.

Unfortunately, I had to choose. It was either my mental health, which was far more important to me than anything else at the moment because I was almost at the verge of going insane, or my relationship with Harry that would keep me unhappy. It’s not that I didn’t love him; I’ve given my heart to him bits by bits, sacrificing everything that I had left only to receive his love and to hold his heart in my hands. Now, I realized how badly the consequences influenced me.

It had never occurred to me that I would suffer so severely under our relationship.

I had been always someone with major insecurities and after starting to date Harry, they didn’t get any better. I thought perhaps he could help me to defeat them so I could change into the strong young woman that I had dreamed of being. A young woman who loved herself the way she was. I was still far away from that destination.

Additionally, to my fucked up self, I started to develop paranoia thanks to damn paparazzi. There had been no moment in which I could step out of my house-somebody found where I lived unfortunately- without being bombarded with thousands of questions. I wasn’t even the famous one, so why following me around?

Also, the rumors about Harry added some trust issues and who would ever want a girlfriend who thought you would cheat on her whenever you went out with your female friends? Harry didn’t deserve such a girlfriend like me.

I tried to explain my problem, hoping he would comprehend the issue and why I had chosen to break up.

But Harry didn’t take it positively at all.

We were standing in the middle of my living room, his tall frame hovering over mine, making me feel small.

“You’re leaving me? Why?”

I articulate with the correct words so he wouldn’t be offended at the end. It wasn’t his fault anyway. “Everything is getting too much recently, Harry. I don’t think I can handle it. I’m not feeling well at all.”

“If that’s so we can get you professional help, how about that? I can arrange a meeting with the best therapist in London?” He tried to compromise. I could see panic being reflected in his green orbs. The fear of losing me.

“I don’t think it will help. Harry, it’s not that what I want.”

He looked at me confused.

“What is it then?”

I sighed, “I need a break from your public life. I know we’ve been together for a long while, but I still haven’t got used to it and I’m sorry that it took me so long to tell you. I thought could get accustomed to everything, but I didn’t. I want my private life back. I want to live in peace.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way, love. Maybe we could leave until you feel better then?”

“Mental health conditions do not change overnight, Harry.”

“What do you want me to do, then?”

“Nothing,” I said, although it was quite obvious what I intended with this conversation.

“You’re very eager to get rid of me, aren’t ya?” His voice, which once held a soft undertone whenever he would speak, sounded so poisonous and unfamiliar in a sudden, I couldn’t recognize it at all. For a moment, it felt like as if a stranger that I’ve never met or heard before was talking to me and not my loving boyfriend. When I dared to look into his eyes with the last ounce of courage I had, a shudder went through my body from head to toe because I could clearly see the anger fuming behind his usually gentle green orbs. They were emitting complete darkness, making me feel little under his piercing gaze. Not being able to withstand the eye contact any longer, my glance fell down to his hands which he had so tightly fisted into two balls, I practically saw his knuckles turning very white. He flared his nostrils. His chest heaved strongly with every intake of breath. I knew he tried to stay calm, but despite his attempts, he was going to explode soon and if that happened, oh lord, you had to run as far as you could and search for a hiding place.

Harry was unrecognizable when he was mad. Dangerous even. But he would never raise his hand against me. At least that’s what I was hoping.

“You can’t wait to leave me.”

I shook my head unbelievingly, gaping at him. Although I was freaking scared, I still tried to hold my ground. “That’s not true, Harry. You know that. Stop twisting my words so you have a reason to be angered.”

He snorted. “I have a fucking reason to be mad. You’re leaving me and act like as if it wasn’t a big deal to you. So, excuse me miss if I’m getting upset at you for making me feel unworthy to your standards.”

“Standards? What in god’s name are you talking about?! I gave you a fucking valid reason why I chose to end things with you and all you gathered from what I’ve said is this? I never claimed you were being unworthy, I just stated that I don’t think I can keep up with your life anymore. It is affecting my mental health, don’t you get it? I can’t eat, I can’t sleep, and I have no privacy, for fucks sake. There is no day in which I’m not followed around by rude people showing their cameras into my face because they need some new headlines to gossip about. The majority of your fandom hates me, and I can’t even walk on the streets without fearing of being attacked. People call me ugly, they call me fat and unfitting for you. So, for the love of god, show some understanding! Stop making everything about you!” Another wave of tears was brimming my eyes. I was so tired of crying.

I really hoped I had spoken some sense into his stubborn mind, but unfortunately my speech had achieved the exact opposite reaction than I was expecting. Instead, things started to escalate.

“About me?!”

A loud bang echoed through the entire room. My wall had a dent.

“I’ve told you before!” Harry yelled. I was sure the entire building was able to hear him by now. His outburst made me flinch and back away a few steps in fright.

“I’ve told you exactly what you’d get yourself into if you chose to be with me and do you want me to remind you of what you answered back then?! You said you could handle it! It was you who said that as long as we have each other, our love would overcome everything! You fucking promised me my life was not a bother to you, you assured me that you wouldn’t run away like the ones I’ve dated before you because there was no way that you were like them. You promised to stay!! Look at you now; you prove that you’re no different than anybody else I was with!”

He was right. He was completely in the right and I couldn’t blame him for that.

“I know…” I whispered underneath my breath.

Harry groaned and went back and forth, his fingers grasping his chocolate curls so tightly, I feared he was going to rip them off his skull. Anguish was written all across his face.

“Fuck!” he screamed. The next time I looked at him, he was on the ground.

“Love, please,” he begged on his knees, his glossy eyes staring into my soul, “I’m ready to give up anything for you if you stay. Ask me anything you want, and you’ll have it, I promise. You’re the reason why life is getting easier for me every day. You give me a little bit of normality at times where I feel so out of place, as if I didn’t belong to anywhere in this world. I’m so sick of people seeing me as the Harry Styles. I’m sick of people putting me up on a pedestal or using me. I hate hiding a part of me in fear that I might get criticized. You, however, you see the real me. You don’t judge me but embrace who I am. You accept me. Please, I need you or I will lose myself. You’re my guardian angel that I need to keep.”

He slung his arms around my legs, hugging them so tightly that I couldn’t move from my spot. His desperate cries rang through my ear drums and found their way down to my heart, cutting it into two halves. My lungs burned from the lack of air. I just noticed now that I had stopped breathing. I was incredibly conflicted. I knew leaving him would make things less complicated for me than staying.

As selfish as it sounded and no matter how much I loved him, I had to improve my mental condition and focus on myself before I invested anything into our relationship again. My well-being was what mattered the most. Call me a fucking bitch for breaking Harry’s heart but believe me when I tell you that dumping him was the hardest challenge I’ve ever been through.

“Harry…” I sighed, trying to pry off his arms from my legs, “you know I can’t. I’m wasn’t made for this public life.”

I gazed down at him. Shoulders hanging low, his head pointing to the ground and his legs crossed, he sat there in a deafening silence. The tension between us made me a dizzy a lot. I took this short moment of quietness to gather my thoughts and to plan the next steps in my head.

And then, Harry’s voice reverberated through the room.

“If I leave through that door, this is it,” he said without any emotion behind his words. His dull and tired eyes met mine. Raising his arm, he pointed at the front door. “If I leave through that door, I won’t come back, and you will never see me again. I’ll cut you out of my heart. So, choose wisely, Y/N because there are no second chances.”

I tried to swallow the big fat lump that had developed in my throat, blinking away the tears in my eyes. My voice wavered as I answered, “Maybe that’s the best for us.” I avoided looking at him in the eyes, but I knew I had destroyed the last remains of hope that was left in them.

Why did my heart feel so heavy? It was better for him if he dated someone who was in his league, wasn’t it? Someone who didn’t mind changing their private life for a public one. Someone who was stronger than me.

Harry choked out a few heavy sobs before he raised up from his spot and faced me. The image of this broken man in front of me would haunt me forever.

We shared no words, no physical affection, no ‘I love you’s, nor did we bid each other farewell. We were just staring at each other. Maybe this was the perfect final opportunity to memorize every single detail of him. To engrave how he looked like up close. To imprint the shape of his lips, the size of his nose, his dimple and the twinkle of his beautiful green irises. However, he gave me no time to do such because, before I could even blink, he was already headed to the front door.

He turned to me for the very last time. His hand searched for something in his pocket, and suddenly something landed in front of my feet with a loud thud.

My eyes widened as I caught a glimpse of the foreign object. The world around me was spinning, and it gave me the terrible urge to throw up. It couldn’t be! With trembly fingers, I picked up the dark velvet box.

“You know, when I came here, I really thought I would leave this apartment with a smile on my face, knowing that you’d become my future wife,” Harry commented, the bitter tone of his voice couldn’t be overheard. “Instead, I’m leaving with a broken heart and shattered hopes. Congratulations, you have what you wanted.”

The door fell shut and he was gone.

I was frozen like a statue, couldn’t do anything but to stare at the velvet box in my hand. My insides were churning as I opened the lid and discovered a gorgeous diamond ring hiding underneath that took my breath away. It sparkled wonderfully in the light.

I saw the effort behind it, knowing exactly that Harry had trudged from one jeweler’s shop to the next because he was a very picky person who just wanted to find the perfect ring he could propose with. I saw the disappointment attached on his face every time when he found none but also excitement when he finally did. I saw the large smile decorating his lips when he admired the ring and when he said, “That’s the one.”

Placing the ring in the middle of my palm, I could feel how it burned and pierced through my skin. I couldn’t even look at it properly, not only because my vision was completely blurred by my tears, no, also because the ring was mocking me. I had been so determined to end my relationship with the man I could’ve called mine for the rest of my life, but now I was ashamed. Guilt swarmed through my body. My heart was under fire, paining, aching, bleeding. I landed on my knees and cried and cried and cried.

I could only hope that my decision was worth crushing the unique heart that I once held in between my hands.

 Harry

The small metal object felt incredibly heavy in my hand. My head couldn’t really process that I was going to do what I had planned the moment I had exited her apartment. Y/N’s and I’s breakup had left severe injuries that hurt and tore me apart. All this time I had strongly believed she was the one. I was so sure that she was different, that she would stay by my side regardless of who I was. I had told her the obstacles our relationship had to deal with, but she just waved it off, telling me she would fight against those if she had to. She had lied. I felt so betrayed.

I had trust issues, anyway, resulting from former unsuccessful relationships. So, when I had met Y/N, it took me a long while to regain my trust towards love for fear of being let down again. She broke my walls that should protect me from pain and now I had nothing to keep me safe anymore.

I shook my head.

Previously, I had emptied a box full of memories into my fireplace. Now, I was looking at them and letting the past flash before my eyes. Every happy memory that we both had created together would not be existing anymore. I took a photo in between my thumb and pointer finger. When I saw her smiling face pictured on it while I was kissing her cheek, I broke. Why was she doing this to me? Why was she hurting me so much? Have I ever meant as much to her as she did to me?

I threw the photo back into the fireplace and ignited the lighter. I hesitated for a moment. Was I really going to destroy valuable memories?

A snort escaped my lips. She threw our relationship away as if it was a piece of garbage so why did I care if I erased everything out of my life that dealt with her? I had been serious when I told her I was going to cut her out of my life.

Suddenly, the fireplace lit up and filled my living room with soothing warmth. I watched as the flames swallowed the last remains of Y/N’s and I’s relationship. Another tear slips down my cheek as I let my memories or anything that reminded me of her burn down into a pile of ashes along with my heart.

[amartiniplease]

Joseph Liebgott x Reader

Part 2 of “That’s starting to get annoying”.

A/N: This was supposed to be based on a prompt but went in a completely different direction. 

Synopsis: The war in Europe is over and you are waiting for further orders in Austria. You are starting to feel like yourself after pretending to be a man for so long. Joe and you are managing your relationship but there is some pressure about the more physical aspects. You finally have a conversation about it.

Disclaimer: This work is based on the characters as they are portrayed in the HBO series Band of Brothers and is by no means meant as an offense to any of the real men that it was based on.

Wartime seemed to be coming to an end, they were currently stationed in Austria, a beautiful country which appeared like the Garden of Eden after the hell they had been through. They were still riding the high of capturing Berchtesgaden and the war being over in Europe. They had started to see the potential of a life after.

Although the war was still raging in Japan and most didn’t have enough points to go home, the spirit among them had changed completely.

Training again was tough but they had roofs over their heads, beds, food and hot showers. It was everything they could have asked for and more. Y/n was enjoying the clear water, going on swims, and the sun hitting her face. She had started to grow her hair out again, it made her feel a little more like herself.

Most of all she was enjoying Joseph Liebgott. They took every chance they got to sneak off, making out against walls of buildings or lounging in the grass somewhere. They hadn’t had sex yet. The opportunity hadn’t presented itself, there were too many people around most of the time. Not that they didn’t want to, Y/n didn’t feel like it was a big rush, but she was still nervous.

She had just finished a swim, since she was still wearing men’s clothing she was clad in a t-shirt and a pair of skivvies. Coming out of the water she lifted her hands to push her hair out of her face. A groan reverberated over the water at the sight of her shirt clinging to her body leaving nothing to imagination.

“You are killing me Y/n.” Joe said running his eyes appreciatively over her figure.

Y/n just laughed and shook her head. He was standing by the shore, eyes bright and hair a little tousled, she figured he had probably woken up and gone straight here. Going up to him she smiled mischievously before pressing her soaked body against him, wrapping her arms around him at his protests.

“Good morning.” Y/n pressed a kiss on the base of his throat and felt him shiver when she murmured the words.

“A good morning indeed,” His hands wandered lower to squeeze her butt.

Rolling her eyes she couldn’t help but smile. The sun was hitting part of his face making him squint to spare his eyes but it was also making his eyes a swirl of colours. He was looking down at her, hair falling over his forehead. Y/n liked his eyes. Not because they were particularly special, but because there was kindness in them and humor. Somehow they conveyed every emotion as clear as if he’d shouted it. He was easy to read if you knew where to look. Joe was a passionate person and Y/n admired that about him. Sometimes he let things go to his head and acted recklessly. And though she didn’t always agree with them, she respected his choices if he was sure that he was doing the right thing.

Y/n slid her hands up to rest on his cheeks. She shut her eyes as she leant forward and placed a soft kiss on his lips. Pulling away slightly she met his gaze. “I like you a lot.” Smiling she kissed him again before stepping back.

Joe put on his famous smirk as soon as he had recovered. “Good thing I like you too then, sweetheart.” His eyes softening a little when he looked at her.

Y/n just winked at him before turning to the clothes she had brought to change into. Glancing over her shoulder she noticed Joe’s intense stare. It made her blush and she hesitated with her hands resting on the hem of the shirt.

“I’ll turn around if you want.” Joe had noticed her hesitation.

She sighed. “It’s not that, just feeling a little self-conscious I guess.”

Undressing in front of other people wasn’t exactly something she was used to. Especially not after these last few years of hiding it at all costs. Y/n didn’t think she’d seen herself properly in two years. Not that she cared about her looks much after what they had gone through and the things that she’d seen. After Landsberg, any criticism of her body felt like she was commiting a personal offence to each and everyone of those men. This wasn’t about that at all. Of course she wanted Joe to find her desirable but it was the other way around she was worried about. She was afraid he’d see her body and forget who she was. That he would remember that she wasn’t just one of the guys and start treating her differently.

“I already know that you are beautiful, Y/n.” He was attempting to reassure her, but he was getting it all wrong.

She suddenly felt angry, turning around she fixed him with a glare “I am not fishing for compliments Joseph.” The use of his full name got the desirable effect, his eyes widened and he opened his mouth in shock.

“I’m sorry. Fuck. I just figured that maybe that was why you’ve been so against us sleeping together.” Joe didn’t even realise he was digging his grave deeper.

“What did you just say?” Y/n’s voice was dangerously calm as she narrowed her eyes at him.

He looked startled and shifted a little while he talked. “I don’t know. I just thought maybe you were worried that I wasn’t gonna find you hot enough or something.”

Y/n laughed all low and throaty. “Fuck you!” She spat, walking closer to him as she spoke. “My value does not lie in whether my body is desirable enough for you, you arrogant asshole.” To punctuate her statement she poked his chest with a finger. “I don’t give a shit what you think.”

Y/n was fuming and didn’t want to look at him for another second so she turned back to the pile of clothes before swiftly tugging her t-shirt off her body, she picked up the dry one from the ground and slid it over her head before repeating the action with her underwear. She angrily snatched the cargo pants from the ground and pulled them up, buttening them as she turned around to face the shocked look on Joe’s face.

Staring at her Joe opened his mouth as if to say something, before closing it again. At last he managed to choke out. “What the fuck just happened?”

“You were being a fucking idiot. That’s what happened.” Y/n crossed her arms over her chest.

Joe searched her face for something, he moved closer. “I don’t think your value is determined by your body Y/n.” He said softly. “I’ve known you for almost three years. Fuck I even fell in love with you while you were pretending to be a boy for fuck’s sake so don’t you dare say that.” Pulling a hand through his hair he let out a frustrated sigh.

All she could do was stare. “Fell in love?”

He shot her a glare. “Yes, fell in love. I’m in love with you. Fuck.” Lowering his gaze to the ground. “I thought you knew that.”

“Before you even knew I was a woman?” She tried to catch his eyes, but he kept looking down.

Nodding, a blush spread across his cheeks. “Yes.”

“Oh, Joe.” Warmth filled her chest. She couldn’t help the smile that appeared on her face. Feeling ashamed that she had underestimated him like that.

Joe hadn’t lifted his eyes from the ground and a frown curved his eyebrows. “I understand if that makes you not want to be with me.” He thought her reaction was out of disgust.

“What?” Y/n stared at him in bewilderment. “Why wouldn’t I want to be with you?”

“Because I am attracted to men.” He thought about his short infatuation with David and how afraid he’d been that anyone would find out. And when he’d started falling for Y/n he had been even more scared because it felt different from a crush.

Y/n found this ridiculous, but knew better than to laugh. “Joe,” She paused, she wanted him to look at her when she said this. “Look at me please.” She saw him reluctantly lift his head. “I want to be with you. The only reason I care that you are attracted to men is because I wonder if you are attracted to me like this.” She gestured to her body, he had a vulnerable look in his eyes. “No matter who you are attracted to I support you. It doesn’t make you any less than anyone else.” She smiled softly at him.

“Both,” He murmured. “I am attracted to you now but I was also attracted to you before.” He deigned to indicate that he had heard the rest.

“Then that is all that matters.” She said decidedly. “And Joe. I love you.”

He flinched a little at those words. As if they had caught him off guard and Y/n realised that he probably thought that he’d never get to hear them from her after he had told her what he felt. She walked up to him touching his arm gingerly. Wishing that she could reassure him that she was telling him the truth.

“I have never been in love with anyone before. But, what you mean to me, is everything. More than living, that is how much I love you.” These words felt too important to be spoken out loud just like that so she made herself whisper them. Her hands were hanging at her sides a little spread as if waiting to embrace him.

Joe seemed to shudder when she said that and finally stepped into her space, wrapping his arms around her tightly and pressing his face into the crook of her neck. She felt his tears but didn’t comment, she knew he had had enough for one day.

And because she knew he had to hear it she whispered the words to him once again, like it was a secret between just the two of them. “I love you.”