#sorry this is long as fuck tag rants. you can imagine the state of my comics note doc if im honest if its this bad here.

[volfoss]

back to bad comics

[ID: A cartoonish illustration of an ant holding a bindle. /end ID]

[phoenix-and-found-family]

Hello people who found this craziness entertaining!

I made this blog because I was bored and wanted a place to lore dump about my ocs without bothering the few normal people that come across my main blog

‼️DISCLAIMER: THE ART IN THE HEADER ISN'T MINE! I got it from this picrew: https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/1473879‼️

You can ask my characters anything you want, just be aware I won't answer asks I'm not comfortable answering/are about upcoming lore that I don't want to spoil before I write it

Just state who the question is for, and if you don't I'll assume the question is for me and answer accordingly

Basic blog things:

Sorry Phoenix x Juniper shippers, my blog doesn't do that because I personally don't see it. But I support if you ship them and love to see stuff like that! I do ship Prism x Reginald though, and Prism x Fabby...

Basically I ship her with everyone except Phoenix and maybe John.

Also, I have no drawing skills at all, so please don't expect me to draw them doing anything 😭 (edit: I have a couple drawing skills now and plan to use all of them for this >:3)

My Phoenix!!!

Name: Trevor Clyde Ballesteros

Codename: Agent Phoenix

Age: 22

Pronouns: They/Them

Height: 5'2" No fuck that I'm totally 6'3" and have large muscles

Joined the agency at: 18

Favorite color(s): Red and Black

Disability(s): Agent Phoenix is missing their right leg from a horrible car crash that (supposedly) claimed the lives of their parents at 14, forcing them to live on the streets for two years until they eventually got scouted by the agency. Miraculously, even though they've been in far worse danger and experienced far worse pain, they have not sustained any other lasting injuries.

Personality: Imagine if the Norse god Loki and a can of Monster Energy drink had a child who likes to commit arson as a hobby.

Random facts: Phoenix can read, write, and speak fluent English, Spanish, and Japanese because their parents moved around all the time and barely stayed in one place for more than a month. They're also pretty good at Mandarin Chinese, Portuguese, French, and Galic. They refuse to reveal where they learned all of these languages in only 18 years.

They can do some basic martial arts, (update: they are a black belt in Karate, and did not reveal that until recently for some reason) but they mainly excel at accidental stealth and all-out brawl style fights, for they are very fast and good at analyzing how exactly to take an enemy out.

They are diagnosed with autism and auditory schizophrenia, although they believe that they may also have ADHD because of how much stimulation they need to get their job done.

Lore posts

Here are the links (Oldest to Youngest by when I posted them) to posts that give you more lore about my versions of these characters

The Home Argument (Handler's perspective)

The Home Argument (Phoenix's perspective)

The Agency can Wait

Random Headcannons (self h@rm mention)

A Phoenix burns hottest when it's Born Again (Part 1)

The Most Perfect Name

I know I'm pathetic (angst)

Incident report 067 (more angst)

Why I don't hate you (who could've guessed, more angst)

After the Phoenix Rose (I refuse to stop with angst)

Art!!

I shall put my art links here when I remember to

Phoenix...but in a dress

Phoenix but not in a dress

Cuddles

Art about my Personality Swap AU

The Woman (I drew Roxy)

Can't cage a Phoenix arc

Brothers of the Stars (long ass RP chain with @the-one-and-only-043 )

Who's Trevor? (slightly angsty)

The most painful way to say goodbye (even longer RP chain with @the-one-and-only-043 and @wyvchard (sorry for the tags))

The Victim of a Basilisk (Part 1)

Agency file: The Basilisk & Dr. Vadas

The Victim of a Basilisk (Part 2)

Dream Cast ( @wyvchard version)

Dream Cast ( @the-one-and-only-043 version)

Screen Cast (right after the other two, some Agent Circuit lore)

OC's

Agent Ombre (profile)

Agent Circuit Board (image)

Rants (that may or may not contain lore)

Reginald Crane is a professional

John Juniper is known for his lies

A Reversal of Roles (ieytd au)

Random lore (doesn't really have a name)

Operation: Deluge (ieytd au)

How do you kill a Phoenix? (announcement post)

Random things you should probably know beforehand

Prologue: The Death of a Phoenix (This takes you directly to the Ao3 chapter, heads up)

Unconditional Love (Roxanix fic thingy, full of angst)

Part one (Prism's Perspective)

Part one (Phoenix's Perspective)

Part two (Reginald's Perspective)

Part two (Phoenix's Perspective)

A trip to the past (fic idea by @kayssweetdreams , thank you!)

Part one

Random ask things

Phoenix's text will be red

Reginald's text will be orange

Juniper's text will be green

Prism's text will be blue

Fabricator's text will be purple

We've also got Hivemind and his text is pink

(this does not apply to lore posts(usually(sometimes I add this system in because it's hard to tell who's talking)))

Thanks for reading! That's all for now :3

[sukirichi]

holy shit long rant ahead

"Like-like you're looking for the man who courted you two years ago, the one you truly wanted to marry. Well, I'm sorry to disappoint, because you're not going to find him. He never existed in the first place. Whatever it is you're looking for, you won't find it in me," *shit here we go again audio with head in my hands*

"Get out of your head. Just because I did all those things for you, doesn't mean they meant something. Are you forgetting I spent two years of my life trying to win you over, and I never once felt something for you other than tolerance?" When your face fell, triumph washed over his features. "That's right. You remember now, don't you? She's the one I want. Everything I do is for her. Don't forget your place."

Man idk how the princess heard this another time without breaking down in rage cause either this man is going down with me or nothing. Princess where is your self respect? PICK YOURSELF UPPPPPPP THIS MAN LEGIT RUNS ALL OVER YOU AND all we do is cry and yearn for more LIKE WE NEED TO BLOW IR*S AND HIM UP ATP BRING THE BIG GUNS OUT I NEED KUROO AND HIS ROOSTER LOOKING ASS TO POST THAT ARTICLE ASAP

“Your mother's sniffles was the last thing you heard before the sound of a fist connecting with skin resounded in the area. Pulling back, you gasped at what you saw.”

OH THE SATISFACTION I FELT HERE SWEET HEAVENS I wish someone recorded it and we could watch it all over again cause UM LESGO WWE 🗣️🤺 never have I ever loved a father this much cause he SLAYED LEFT NO CRUMBS AT ALLL #curedmyfatherissues

“Want me, you pleaded silently, at least want me. Just a little bit.” pookie 🤠😟😞 cmon we better than this

“Rintaro hadn't mean to. Sure, he was careless and never used protection, but he thought little of it. Iris® cycles were irregular and they never worried if she missed her period. She was always on the pill - all because of him, since Kiyoomi wouldn't have touched her anyway.”

he’s one sick bastard I hope he rots imagine cheating on your wife that you claim to love, doing it in your shared bed AND without protection like babe the article was so deserved by god

and the ending sentence,,,,,just made me so sick because as much as I hate rin and ir*s, I think I hate the queen and the king more because the issues started with them. with the king being an absolute whore and having kids with random ass women LIKE WHERE IS THE VASECTOMY GET HIS TUBES TIED and the queen being a bitch to rin his whole life just to find out my man got issues for nothing??? not defending him at all but to find out that all he knew as his “home” and family (even tho they sucked) were all never really his,,, I can see his heart breaking with the image he had of his family in his mind in the form of drawings made by his inner child, torn in half,,,,,,,oh I am about to be SICK

(and once he finally found his real home aka princess, bro fumbled it up BADDDD like if I was him I would beg for forgiveness + repent + burn the castle with the queen in it <33 (not the princes, tobio pookie you are coming home with me)

bro’s mental health must be in a delicate state, I hate him but I am also worried for him 🥲

- Freud anon is in shambles btw

THE HERE WE GO AGAIN AUDIO AAHJKA SO TRUE he just keeps on going back and forth like decide already!! 😭 do you want us or not!!

the self respect is… there, just buried under very deep layers of still hoping for something good. but also like we can’t really blame dtd!yn for acting this way because rintaro was FINALLY changing and being the husband we wanted him to be! the whole romantic dinner setup, working on the beach house together, and not once even mentioning iris????!!? BRO WAS DEDICATED. but then yeah he really just had to ruin it all again UGH. “all we do is cry and yearn for more.” actually real.

the daddy issues tag im crying 😭 sending all my love and hugs to you anon. BUT YES omg I loveeee our dad so much in DTD because he really said fuck around and find out! dude literally did not care that he was punching a royal because his daughter was more important than their titles! our parents in dtd are soo parents goals I love them <3

nauh bcos rintaro is careless and CRAZYYY. not only did they do it in OUR bed but he did it raw like! I would’ve thrown up ngl. AGHJSKA the vasectomy LMFAO. unfortunately it’s his duty to have many children and he fulfilled that part VERY well, just yknow… they really should’ve specified to him that he had to have kids with his wife and not other women. but yes I agree! all the problems really started because the king and queen hated each other (or more like, the queen hated him for how he treated her, and the king just didn’t care about her at all. he just knew she’d be a good queen and he needed someone smart and capable in leading the country so he can slack off. terrible, terrible man.) YES OMGGG THE DRAWINGS STOPPP I GET SO SAD EVERYTIME I THINK OF RINTARO’S LIFE WAS STOLEN FROM HIM AND ALL HIS ISSUES, EVERYTHING THAT HE FUCKED UP, HAD BEEN FOR NOTHING! and now he’s fumbling so bad too like bro is losing everything that should’ve never been his in the first place ugh.

YES! we protect and love tobio in this house!! and I agree </3 rintaro is going through a lot and it honestly goes two ways – it’s either he does worse things to cope, or he completely shuts down and forgets everything that happened. I’m not sure which one I prefer…

[ashs-cardboard-box]

Sorry that i rant but i just ahave to tell someone.

People on tumblr are weird. Some feel entitled to fics and i fucking hate it. There are the people that think they can request "female readers" when the author clearly states that they don't write that and then they have the audacity to be mad about it? Like i get that sometimes it can be a mistake, i requested a fic for characters the author didn't write, i apologized because i mistook them for another author and i moved on. But i don't get how people can be so mad that you don't write for female readers.

And then there are people that just insult authors???? Like if you didn't like the fic just don't move on?? It's a fanfic, it doesn't have to be like you imagined, people like different things, if you don't like smut don't read it and don't bother the author.

And please please please tag your fics right. It doesn't hurt you, it makes everyone more comfortable . There's nothing wrong with it so please just do it

So sorry to bother you about it but you opened a box that has been locked too long

And side note: i love love love your rdr2 fics. I read them over and over again. You are amazing, truly amazing. You have a writing style that just makes everything perfect. Thank you so much. You can really be proud of yourself

YOURE SO REAL !!!! Oh my god you're so fucking real. if I could somehow reblog this 40 times over I absolutely would. theres definitely some people in the world who need to be humbled. like, being on the internet doesn't give you the right to demand something. Writers put out content you can enjoy, but you don't get to command they write For You In Particular. Even if they take requests. You can ASK if they can write your thing, but if they don't, just find someone else who will or do it yourself. Also thank you sm !! I've been really stressed over school lately and kinda lost steam for a little while. Thinking about going back to it!

[silversatoru]

Hi, I just finished burdens and OML 🥺🥺🥺

May I request some sort of megumi x reader continuous where the reader ends up becoming a powerful sorcerer (or a cursed spirit👀 whichever you’d like tbh) megumi and the reader somehow cross paths again a little while after the break up and he witnesses her fighting for the first time? I just know that boy would fall in love all over again but she’s moved on and he feels guilty and just angst? And maybe fluff idk. I’m new to requests so I hope I did this right, thank you so much❤️❤️

burdens pt. 2

a/n: hello, part two of this not-so-lovely story is finally here. every single one of you is allowed one free punch to my face for taking so long to write it,,, i’m so sorry. this is its fourth rewrite and it got a little darker than expected but it’s finally done,, i hope you enjoy <3

fushiguro megumi x f!reader

synopsis: you finally see megumi again at the kyoto sister school goodwill event

tags/warnings: angst, some graphic depictions of violence, character death

word count: 3k

“Do you know how tired I am of watching the people I love die? Things would be so much easier for me if you just stayed the fuck away”.

Megumi’s bitter words were on repeat in your head — the harshness of his voice leaving a hollow feeling carved into your chest. Tear-stained cheeks and shaky breathes had become your new normal these past few days. Tight, sharp pains filled your empty stomach, waves of nausea coursing through your body.

You’ve had no motivation to get out of bed lately, nevermind to shower or cook yourself a proper meal — honestly, for all you cared you could rot away in your blanket filled bed. You checked your phone like a fiend too, thinking that eventually, a miraculous text from Megumi would appear and make everything better. It never did.

He’d completely ghosted you since that dreadful day, and that hurt more than anything. You’d held onto a sliver of hope that maybe, just maybe, he hadn't meant what he said. But as the days continued to pass, your hope quickly dwindled.

To say your current state was shameful was putting it lightly, and you were embarrassed at how poorly this was effecting you. You liked to think that you were strong, motivated, independent — that you didn't need some douchebag just to feel happy. But truth be told, breakups are fucking hard, and it's okay to not be okay for a while — or at least that's what you kept telling yourself.

So when you were trudging miserably down the street to your local convenience store and you saw a familiar pair of jujutsu sorcerers, you wanted desperately to sink into the ground. You made a quick turn to head to a different shop, but it was too late, you were spotted.

“y/n! hey!” Two lighthearted voices sang through the air, filling your ears and making your heart clench in your chest.

You turned around and anxiously approached them, your unkempt hair and baggy eyes sending looks of concern across their faces.

“Hey girl, you good?” Nobara shot you a sideways glance, Maki raising a suspicious eyebrow.

“Yeah, uh, ice cream,” You croaked, speaking for the first time in a couple days, “I’m here for ice cream, that’s all”.

“Yeah, but why do you look like a fucking zombie?” Maki pushed her eyeglasses further up her nose, her sharp eyes looking you up and down.

“Ah, he didn’t say anything to you guys, did he?” You shook your head, heavy eyes falling to ground as you refused to meet theirs.

“Don’t tell me…” Nobara’s face contorted, “Did he break up with you?”

You nodded, a pitiful chuckle falling from your lips, because if you didn’t laugh, you’d start sobbing right now.

Maki threw her arm around your shoulder, pulling you to her side and ushering you into the store, “It’s okay, men suck. Hang out with us today”.

Meanwhile, Nobara trailed quickly behind the two of you, anger seething from her teeth and steam practically billowing out of her ears.

“That fuckhead! I swear I’ll fuck his shit up big time, he won’t even know what fucking hit him. I knew that boy was stupid but shit, this is a whole new low for him! I-,” She continued to ramble and rant as Maki led you through the store, picking out drinks and snacks to help ease your pain.

The three of you ended up in a nearby park, sitting around a small picnic table and gorging on the massive array of snacks. Lighthearted conversation and lots of food make your chest ache a little less, and you even found yourself laughing and chatting as if things were normal. You’d told the two of them all about that day, about Megumi’s irrational words and his tragic breakdown that led to some kind of fucked-up break up sex.

“So, how are we gonna get back at him? Egg his car? Put bleach in his shampoo? Bugs in his food? God - it’s a shame his dad is dead because from the pictures I’ve seen that man was FINE and revenge sex—,”

“Nobara,” Maki shot her idiot girlfriend a dirty look, and the orange-haired girl quickly shut her mouth, “As much as I support any idea that revolves around ruining a man’s day, I don’t think revenge is the healthiest coping strategy here”.

You were tracing your eyes around Maki’s face as she spoke, and you found yourself carefully inspecting her purple glasses that rested softly on the bridge of her nose. And that’s when it clicked, the light bulb ignited in your head and you knew exactly what you wanted to do.

“Maki,” your voice was urgent, “You don’t have cursed energy, you can’t even see them without your glasses!”

Her face twisted and her nose scrunched, a look of distaste in her eyes, “I know?”

“So, you could teach me, right? You could help me learn how to use some cursed weapons?”

“Yeah! You have to Maki, then she can beat his ass with me,” Nobara chimed in.

“That’s not a bad idea actually,” Maki’s mouth formed an evil grin, “Could you imagine his face after watching you exorcise a curse?”

The three of your conversed for a bit longer, speculating and potting about training, weapons, and your very own pair of curse-seeing glasses. By the end of the night you had a plan, and a pretty good one if you say so yourself.

From that day on, teary eyes and achy hearts were a thing of the past, not because it was that easy to get over Megumi, but because Maki didn’t even allow you the time to feel dismal anymore. You met her everyday after classes without fail, and everyday she would train you until you thought your arms would fall off. After months and months of sore muscles, sweat, and the occasional injury, you were convinced that Maki was incapable of feeling pity or remorse for other living things. Every time you speculated about quitting, she’d set a fire under you, unafraid to remind you how weak you still were.

The green-haired sorcerer had ultimately decided that you worked best dual-armed -- a long, lightweight blade in each hand. On your final day of training, she officially gifted the two swords to you, as a “graduation” gift.

Skill-wise, you were by no means as incredible Maki, but you definitely held your own, and the progress you’d made in a mere 8 months was astronomical. They’d introduced you to a strange silver-haired man at some point, Gojo, who had taken not only an interest in you but also your plot against your ex-boyfriend. He cackled to himself when you told him why you were here, going on and on about how priceless Megumi’s face would be when he saw you.

Your appearance was highly anticipated, so why not debut at one of the biggest jujutsu events all year? The Kyoto Sister School Goodwill Event — Gojo thought it was the most perfect idea.

You tried hard to exude confidence as you walked at Nobara and Maki’s sides, but behind your arrogant facade your stomach was twisting itself into knots. Truthfully, you were scared to see Megumi again after so long.

And when your eyes met with his as you walked into the meeting room, you thought you just might pass out. You thought you were ready for this — but the look of complete shock, fear, and anger on his face as he looked you up and down almost made you regret all of it.

“What’s going on?” Megumi’s words were incredibly calculated, an edge on his voice.

His question was pointless, however, because judging by the fact that you were wearing a jujutsu tech uniform and had two swords sheathed at your sides could only mean one thing. Your hair was longer now too, and your frame was wider with an extra layer of muscle from all the training — you almost looked like a different person.

“I’ve been training with Maki, I-,” You spoke up to explain yourself, but you weren’t even granted the opportunity.

“No, no, Maki, what the hell did you do?” His eyes were shaky and laced with concern.

“I only did what she asked me to. I’m not the one who gave her a complex about being weak, you did that,” Maki shrugged, “and she’s not your girlfriend anymore dude, what do you care?”

Absolute confliction flashed through his eyes, uncertainty and madness swirling in his irises, “You’re right, I don’t care. Let me know when the event is starting”.

He took a sharp turn out of the room and let the door slam a little too hard behind him. The sound of his icey voice and the door shutting with unkind force was all too reminiscent of the night you broke up. Burying every emotion you had deep into your stomach you gave Maki a small, reassuring smile and plopped down on one of the couches.

“Alright, so when does this thing start?”

after the start of the event

Fighting the Kyoto students was proving to be much harder than you initially expected, but you were holding your own at Maki’s side. The two of you had easily taken down a small, kind, blue haired girl named Miwa, and now you were watching an emotional battle between Maki and her sister unfold.

Wait here, she’d told you, I want to do this one myself. Take some notes on my form and watch our backs, okay?

Okay, you’d said, a little confused but ultimately finding a nice spot up in a thick tree to carefully observe from. Maki was truly a force of nature, and it seemed like the other girl never actually had a chance of winning. It was honestly only a few minutes before the small black, haired girl was slumped against a tree and Maki was making her way back to you. Things were looking good, two of Kyoto’s student’s were down already and adrenaline was pumping through your veins.

You couldn't quite shake the awful feeling churning in your stomach though, and Megumi’s face was haunting your thoughts. You hadn’t seen him since before the event started, when an odd, pink haired boy jumped out of a box and freaked everyone out. Nobara had later explained who he was and what had happened, and you wondered how many awful surprises Gojo had planned today -- first you, then that.

A small rumble rippled under your feet, and Maki grabbed your arm as you watched a giant brown vine lurch it’s way out of the ground a few hundred yards in the distance.

“That technique doesn’t belong to anyone from Kyoto,” She shot you a look of concern and determination, “let’s go check it out”.

You gave her a firm nod, the two of you making your way towards the horrifying wooden vines. By the time you managed to arrive, Inumaki was already down and so was a dark-haired boy from Kyoto. A muscular, white curse with black markings and wooden branches for eyes was moments away from taking Megumi on all by himself — thank god you got here in time to help.

Megumi, however, was horrified when he saw you jump over the tall roofed building with Maki at your side. He’d just watched two incredible sorcerers get their shit rocked by this curse, there was no way you would stand a chance against this thing. But before he could even try to stop you, you and the green-haired sorcerer were flying through the air and taking shots at the curse. The two of you worked perfectly in sync, the months of daily training finally paying off.

He watched with intent glazed over his eyes, his heart threatening to lurch up his throat. You were a spectacle, and he always thought you were beautiful but seeing you now with dirt and blood stained clothes, cursed weapons gripped firmly in your hands, you truly were ethereal. He hated it though, he hated that he was falling in love with you all over again, especially under these circumstances. Guilt and anxiety was eating away at him — why did you have to get involved? Why couldn’t you have just stayed away like he told you to?

He was quick to join the two of you, sticking close to your side to protect you if need be — but, even with all three of you together the curse still had the upper hand. Maki had been swatted to the side, her back slamming hard against one of the tiled roofs and knocking her unconscious. It was down to just the two of you now, beads of sweat causing your hair to uncomfortably stick to the back of your neck. This was something that Maki’s training could have never prepared you for.

Megumi was getting tired, taking one wrong step and losing his footing momentarily. The curse saw this as a perfect window of opportunity, sending a spiral of vines and branches hurling for Megumi. It was fast, but the adrenaline coursing through you helped you to move faster, launching yourself through the air and intercepting the attack. The barky, wooden vines twisted violently through your stomach, shooting clean through your back and ripping a violent scream from your throat.

It hurt so bad, feeling the plant wriggle through your organs and tear you apart from the inside out. The curse retracted his vine a few moments later, leaving your mangled body to fall helplessly to the roof. Tears rippled from your eyes, your body shaking and seizing as you coughed up a few sprays of blood.

A long, strong pair of arms scooped you up instantaneously, and your head was resting against a firm chest — probably Megumi, but you didn’t quite have the energy to open your eyes to check.

“We’ll take it from here, get her to Ieiri!” You heard a pair of deep voices yelling to Megumi, but it was too foggy and far away for you to understand what they were saying.

Megumi was seething with anger, moving as fast as his feet could carry him and he ran through the school. As you waved in and out of consciousness, you batted open your eyes, stealing quick glances at his twisted features and — were those tears on his face?

“I- I’m sorry Megumi… I think I finally understand what you were so afraid of all this time,” Your voice was barely a croak, “when I saw it coming, I couldn’t stomach the thought of having to watch you die. I suddenly just thought I would do anything to keep you safe”.

Yeah, those were definitely tears, you could see them a little clearer now. His eyes were red and his cheeks were dried with salty streaks.

“You’re so thick-headed,” he mumbled, his grip around you tightening slightly as he picked up his pace, “I wish you would have made that realization before there was a giant hole in your stomach”.

“Me too,” You hummed, but you weren’t really in any pain anymore. The pain had subdued to a sweet warm sensation inside your stomach, and an intoxicating sleepiness was washing over your head, “I was angry for a long time, but I’m not mad at you anymore, Gumi. I hope you can forgive me too”.

You offered him a tiny smile, but the blood leaking from between you keeps made it anything but sweet.

“There’s nothing to forgive you for, you never did anything wrong,” He spoke quickly, his voice quiet and cracking.

“No, but we’re not gonna make it to Ieiri, I know that and so do you,” You fell into a violent fit of coughs again, sputtering red splatters all over the front of his uniform.

“Shut up”.

“It’s not your fault, none of it was ever your fault,” you choked out once the fit of coughs subsided — and you weren’t just talking about yourself, you were talking about all of the unfortunate tragedies he’d witnessed throughout this life.

“And you’re allowed to be selfish sometimes, you know? I hope that when you meet someone, your soulmate even, you can allow yourself to love them with every part of you”.

The words painfully left your lips, but you meant every single one of them. You were starting to realize that you and Megumi were never meant to make it to the end. You weren’t his soulmate, you were here to help him grow, so that when he did finally meet them he’d be ready.

“You deserve to be loved, Megumi,” You looked up at him with big eyes, but his face was starting to get really fuzzy now.

Your fingers were going numb and your mouth felt like it was filled with sand. You were so tired, letting your eyes flutter shut and your head rest softly against Megumi’s chest. You felt him stop running, you could even hear him screaming at you — but it was too far away for you to hear. You drifted closer and closer to eternal sleep, your soul swollen with love for the boy who broke your heart.

Megumi didn’t even feel sad when you stopped breathing in his arms — he just felt hollow. More empty and broken than he’d ever thought possible. You were the most incredible person he’d ever met — someone with extreme motivation, who acted with no fear or hesitation, who always had love to give, even when he didn’t deserve it. He’d never forget you, not for as long as he’d live anyway.

Even when he did meet a new girl a few years later — a compassionate, brave girl, who reminded him a lot of you — he wouldn’t forget. He wouldn’t forget your words and for the first time in his life he’d let his walls down for her. He’d allow himself to truly love, and be loved in return.

And maybe you were right, maybe he did deserve to be loved like this, because god, he finally feels whole again when she’s around. He just wishes you were still here so he could say thank you.

[physicalturian]

[18+] Goodbye Head - Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader

[She/Her pronouns used for the reader, no physical description; Everyone +18] [No spoilers from the anime or the manga]

Words : 5162

Archive of our own

Tags : Cheating / Cunnilingus / Light bondage / NSFW / Power Play / Choking / Hair-Pulling / Vaginal sex

If you think I should add some tags, tell me!

Summary : Gojo is the worst boyfriend, after one too many time he forgets to come at one of your evening together: you've had enough. Nanami is here to help with what Gojo has been lacking your entire relationship : nice sex, maturity and not being a bitch.

---

Putting my phone away, I rested my elbows on the counter and exhaled, frustrated, “He’s going to be late,” I said. As I took the glass of wine Nanami was handing me, he added, “Again,”. As much as I was disappointed that my boyfriend was missing on our time together, I laughed at Nanami’s remark. He was right, but what else could I do? Cry about it? Not for him, no.

There was no reason to make a big deal out of it, it wasn’t unusual for him to get delayed on our free nights together, a few other times he wouldn’t even come. At this point, I was more surprised to have him there at all, than to receive his messages filled with “sorry’s” and “it won’t happen again”, hours after he was supposed to pick me up or meet me. Even tonight, Nanami had to come pick me up since my boyfriend wasn’t there on time and had borrowed my car.

Raising my glass towards Nanami, he mirrored it a moment before taking a sip and focusing back on the pan in front of him as he cooked, “Well, it’s you and me once again,” I scoffed with a smile, that I tried hard to keep up and not let it get to me. Twirling the glass in my hand, I got lost in the dark red liquid, thinking of what to do next. The efforts I was putting into this relationship were not reciprocated at all, I was giving more than receiving, and I was past the point of getting disappointed.

“Something on your mind?” Nanami’s voice brought me back to earth and I straightened my back with a nervous laugh. I looked at him, then at my drink, then at him again, then chugged the wine down and said, in one breath, “You know what? Yeah, did you know that when he fucks me, he says ‘Get out, get out’? Like- what’s that about? The bitch just got in, it doesn’t make sense,” Nanami quirked a brow, the smallest of smiles on his face. Wiping his hands on his apron, he rolled up his sleeves a bit higher before putting the pastas in the water. “Are you sure that’s what he’s saying?” His tone made it seem like he had a suggestion.

Frowning, I asked him to go on. “Maybe he’s saying Geto, it’s a bit closer and I know they were close… I think they’re still friends,” He trailed off, walking around the kitchen to get some spices and adding them to the pan, all while talking. I had to give it a thought a moment, weighing his words. Could it be? He never really explained why he went out, I always thought it was sorcerer business and did not give it more mind. But now that Nanami mentioned it, it made sense. I waited for him to put the wine bottle on the counter then took it by the neck and chugged a few gulps before chuckling.

“You’re saying he’s cheating on me with the hipster dude?” I scoffed dryly, drinking some more, my grip on the bottle tightening. “We’re not sure though… Right?” I argued, more to myself than to Nanami, trying to convince myself. I don’t know why I was willing to give him a chance, I knew the moment I got together with him he wasn’t the settling type. Twirling the base of the bottle on the counter, I was thinking, should I break it off now or wait until we’re home, and until we’ve talked… “I don’t think he’s worth you getting sad over him, if that’s what’s going on,” I heard Nanami real close to me as he gently took the bottle from my hand and took a sip too. Less desperate than mine.

Smacking my lips together, I sucked in my teeth and turned around, looking at Nanami with a determined expression. This was the straw that broke the camel’s back, “You’re right, he’s shit. He doesn’t even fuck that well,” I huffed, hopping on the counter while Nanami stirred the pastas.

“Is that so? He prides himself in that, if he hears you say that he’ll probably break down,” “There is no pride in being the worst,” I spat. That’s when I felt like ruining this man, or at least his credibility in that department. Giving Nanami a look, I took a deep breath and started listing, raising a finger at each thing, “He only fucks me from behind, I’ve never seen this man’s face during sex. Oh! And he says the condom doesn’t feel good, well sorry you think your raw-fucking feels good?” I paused when Nanami handed me my glass, he had filled it up and was smiling, chuckling slightly too as he nodded for me to follow him so that we could talk on the couch.

Doing so, I got off the counter and followed him, making sure not to spill my drink when I jumped. I had to force myself not to look at the blonde man’s back, finding a sudden appeal to his entire person. Ignoring my train of thought, I slumped on the sofa and felt bad for blurting out those facts about him, so I apologized to Nanami with a short laugh, “It’s just, I was willing to let it slide because I think I loved him, or something? But the more I think of it, the more I realize I let too much shit slide, you know? Sure, I can let him and his weird texting habits, be. He would either text way too much, needy for attention or would completely disappear off the face of earth without a warning,” I huffed.

I couldn’t believe I was telling Nanami all that, it wasn’t his problem and yet he was listening, willingly, not making weird faces or mocking my situation. “You are talking about it in the past already,” He noticed.

Laughing breathlessly, I nodded, “I guess I am… Maybe I’ve already made a decision, but I won’t rush it…” I trailed off, silence setting between the sorcerer and me. I couldn’t keep it like that, so I took a sharp intake of breath and continued, “Can I still rant just a tiny bit more?” The man in front of me nodded, telling me to go on. “I don’t think the man has had sex education classes,” I stated, making Nanami laugh shortly in his drink before having him ask what I meant by that.

“Except for the fact that he didn’t want to wear a condom, ever, he also didn’t seem versed in foreplay… he would just… Fuck and groan loudly, finishing super quickly,” I said, still not believing I was telling him that. Extending my hand in front of me, I gestured for him to pause as I had seen he was going to talk, “No, you know what? I’ll say it, it’s the truth so I’ll say it,” Nanami frowned at first before quirking a brow, intrigued.

“I was his personal fleshlight, that’s it, that’s what it was,” I gestured that I was done, giving him the floor so to speak. The man in front of me had to put his drink down before opening his mouth, a slight frown on his forehead, “It couldn’t be all that bad, he helped you finish, right?” He asked, probably to give Gojo at least some credits. Although from the look in his eyes, he was expecting the answer I gave him, albeit less loudly.

A loud cackle left my mouth, “Him? No, no, I don’t remember him doing that, ever. It’s alright though, I probably took too long for him,” I shrugged, tending to my drink, once again starting to get lost in it. The more I thought of it, the more it made sense. He was probably imagining someone else the entire time, I was played for a fool. “Shouldn’t have sucked him off either, since he never returned the favor,” I grumbled, suddenly feeling bitter as I drank some more.

“So, he’s garbage,” Nanami said, bringing the glass to his lips. I watched his every move, finding the man had some charm, some grace, he was poised and mature. Everything Gojo wasn’t. A strand of hair was falling from his perfectly slicked back hair, but it didn’t make it disheveled, no, it was a controlled mess. When he swallowed, it brought my attention to his throat, free from the tie that minutes ago was restraining it. It was still around the collar of his shirt, only now it was loose, along with two buttons undone.

I was ripped out of my daydream when I heard my name being called. Blinking, I looked up and stared at Nanami, confused. “I asked you a question,” he said.

“Right, uh… Sorry, I got lost in… my thoughts,” I gestured at nothing, “Sadness and all that jazz, you know?” I joked, gulping down more wine and made a rewinding gesture, this time, “Could you repeat?”

The blonde hummed. A sound that sent something coursing through my body, something I didn’t think I would get from him. “I asked what you were going to do about him,”

“Break up. Even if he isn’t cheating, I’ve come to the realization he ain’t the shit, you know?” He nodded, a pensive expression on his face. The man seemed deep in thought, and since he wasn’t talking, it gave me time to enjoy the view a bit more. He leaned forward once more to set his glass down, which gave me the most exquisite view of his back muscles and his ass, but I didn’t comment.

“He never made you cum, then.” Nanami stated, more than asked. I stammered, my cheeks heating up quickly. He wasn’t wrong, and we had been on the topic for a moment… But he said it so crudely, I was caught off guard, yet I found myself nodding at first, before replying, “Which isn’t like, a big deal or anything, he’d leave the room to get cleaned up, shower, I’d finish with anything. Or not, depending on how lazy I would be. I don’t get my hopes up anymore, really,” “And how long have you been together?”

“Don’t know, a few months?” I replied quickly but confused.

Nanami looked me up and down, asking another question, “And before that, how long had you been single?” I don’t know why I laughed timidly, so I brought the glass to my lips to hide it before finishing my drink and putting the glass down next to Nanami’s. It felt like an interview with all the questions he was shooting at me, yet I replied, “A while, I don’t remember- why all the questions?”

“It’s been a while then, since you’ve been properly eaten out,” He ignored my question and continued, making me smile in surprise, my eyes wide. I was silent for a moment, considering my answer, or if I should even answer, it all happened quickly, and my first words were, “Kento!” I exclaimed under my breath in an overdramatic tone. He did not budge, and said in what could have been described for playful, at least for him, “Is that a yes?”

“I mean… yeah, yes it’s been a while, but I don’t see why that’s any of your concern,” I said lightly, suddenly aware of the distance between us that was close to none. His knee was brushing against mine, and slowly as he spoke, his hand brushed over my knee, “I want to get those hopes up again, along with those legs,” There was the faintest hint of a smirk on his lips, but it was mostly a serious suggestion that did not displease me, if anything I was feeling excited. He had a way with words that left me speechless, unlike my boyfriend who I tried to tune out most of the time.

Fuck it says a lot about our relationship, doesn’t it? Coming to that realization, I held Nanami’s gaze with mine, looking down at his lips a few times before locking my eyes on his once more. “If you want to, then yes, I’d definitely take you up on that… offer… But don’t feel like you need to do it-“ I was thrown off balance when Nanami brought my legs on his and made me fall on my back. I was quick to support my weight on my elbows to look at him, flustered. “I don’t feel obligated, I want to do this. I’ve been picturing you naked for so long, forgive me for the eagerness,” He breathed as he moved to position himself properly between my legs.

I matched his eagerness in unbuttoning my pants, letting him pull them down, “Don’t apologize, I like the fervor, it’s flattering,” I told him with a bit of shyness in my voice. The blonde got rid of my pants, throwing them behind him before focusing back on me. He paused a moment, taking a good look, making me slightly self-conscious but I didn’t voice it. It quickly dissipated when his hands gripped my thighs semi-tightly, rubbing them affectionately. “I’ll give you all the flattery you deserve,” He whispered, leaning in for a kiss but stopping just before our lips could meet. “Do you want to make him jealous?”

I was holding my breath in expectation when I said, “I’m not really the type…” he chuckled and kissed me softly, shortly, pulling back after a moment. “Are you sure?” He slowly moved lower, raising my shirt to press a kiss on my stomach, I let out a shaky breath and tried to pull him back up by his tie, “Maybe I do,” It earned me a grunt from the man, but he let me guide him up. He kissed me once more, this time while removing his tie, “Let’s keep those wandering hands off for now,” With a smile he took hold of my hands and wrapped his tie around it, not too tightly but enough to immobilize them for now.

Reaching for my pants, he took my phone and slid it in my hands, making sure I was holding it when he let go and said, “Send him a picture of us whenever you’d like, if he’s not too stupid he’ll understand,” I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped my lips, but quickly my cheeks heat up when Nanami paused and looked at me longer than necessary, a genuine smile on his lips this time. “Alright, get at it now, stop staring at me,” I huffed, unlocking my phone with my thumb which was the best I could do right now.

Nanami pushed my phone down, while I was still holding it, and made me look at him as he crawled up once more, “Ask politely,” he breathed against my lips before kissing them. I returned the kiss with a lot more passion, gasping in the kiss when his fingers slid inside my underwear and pressed between my legs, curling his fingers ever so lightly. He didn’t have to ask twice, I was the one to break the kiss breathlessly, already too impatient from just his promise, “Please, Kento,” I tried to grab the buckle of his belt with the tip of my fingers, he was faster to pull back with a dark laugh.

“And to think Gojo hasn’t been giving you all his attention, what a grave mistake,” He trailed off, I hooked one of my legs on his shoulder while he took my underwear off, throwing it on the ground with my pants. When I was fully open for him, he helped me hook my other leg on his shoulder and leaned in, his mouth closer to my fold, “Kento, stop wasting time, just…” I held back from asking him to fuck me, because he was not going to, not tonight, or at least not right now, “Please…” I pleaded.

“Fuck you look so good like this, legs spread wide, begging for my tongue,” Before he latched his lips on my sex, he said, “Be good and show me how good you’re feeling,” then dragged his tongue slowly, from my entrance where I felt his muscle prod, to my clit, with more pressure he flicked his tongue a few times, making me swear under my breath in surprise. I took the opportunity to take a photo of him from that very angle, his gaze locked on mine and not on the camera. Nanami stopped and pressed a kiss on my inner thigh. “Go ahead, send him, you won’t be able to focus much once I’ve started,” His words made me hurry in my writing.

I was quick to send the picture to my boyfriend, along with a message reading “Slumber party 😊” then I locked the screen and let my phone fall on the pile of clothes on the ground. “Don’t worry, I made you look good with the angle,” I joked. I don’t know why I did that, but I felt the need to lighten the mood. Nanami did not care, “Of course I’d look good, your legs around my neck are quite the accessory,” I could feel my core pulsing simply by his words, he hadn’t said much but the charisma rolling off him turned me on more than I was ready to admit.

Without losing more time, Nanami dived once again between my legs. This time, he wasn’t holding my legs anymore, one hand was grabbing my ass while the other spread my lower lips as he dragged his tongue through my fold. It was slow and delicate at first, I was arching my back at the pleasure it was giving me, but I was not nearly as close as I wanted to be. After a few minutes, the pace increased, his lips around my clit were doing more than licking, they were sucking, blowing, biting, the latter having brought a deep grunt as I moaned “More,” before covering my mouth with my tied hands.

He was playing me like an instrument. Upon hearing my plea, Nanami looked up with a smirk, he was enjoying the way my cheeks burned up from begging, the humiliation, the submission, he was relishing in it. Seeing me writhing under him seemed to make him go wild, and yet he did not seem content yet, he wanted to make me beg more. He returned to his task, his tongue lapping at my sex while groaning in pleasure too, it was a lot more stimulating, and when I felt his hand let go of my leg, I held my breath, letting out a controlled whine when he slid two fingers inside me.

When he started thrusting them in and out, I moaned in my hands, covering the lascivious sounds that were escaping my mouth. I was very much aware of how loud I was being, and I was trying to keep it down as much as possible, I had been told many times to keep it down by my boyfriend and had taken the habits of doing just that. That’s when Nanami surprised me and paused everything, his free hand gripping my thigh with force to keep them from closing on him. “Breathe, move your hand from your mouth and let me hear you,”

When I took too long to obey him, he gently moved my bound hands from my mouth, I let out a shallow breath, “There,” He breathed, smiling down at me for letting him do as he pleased, “A lot better already, let’s see how good you sound now,” My eyes darted to his lips, it made him smile knowingly. He let me grab his shirt with my tied hands, but did not comply when I pulled him closer, instead he curled his fingers inside me, elating a weak gasp, “Oh that does sound better, I think you can do even more,” “Kento…” I whispered, wanting more of his touch, more than just his fingers but also the closeness of his body against mine, his lips…

Humming, he thrusted his fingers deeper all the while looking at me with a satisfied smile, “My name rolls of your tongue so beautifully, but if you want something you have to ask for it, I’m not a mind reader,” I rolled my eyes, knowing full well that he knew what I wanted, but he cut my attitude down to the root when he rubbed his thumb over my clit along with thrusting his fingers inside me. I moaned his name in surprise but didn’t stop as he kept his thrusts at a fast pace. “That’s it, you’re being so loud for me, you’re being so good,” He showered me with praise at each sound that left my throat in pleasure.

Hearing him say those things had an effect on me, it was almost electrifying how good it felt, the feeling went straight to my core. He must have felt my walls clench around his fingers since he leaned closer, his free hand traveling the length of my body to gently settle on my chin, “God, look at you-“ “Please kiss me, please- fuck,” Arching my back, I felt his fingers hit the perfect spot and it made me cry in pleasure, my eyes closing in pure bliss. That cry was muffled when Nanami’s lips crashed hungrily against mine, his fingers thrusting faster and faster inside my aching sex.

I was getting closer to relief when suddenly everything stopped and Nanami leaned back, out of breath and grinning while I let out a humiliating whine. “You’re such a good girl for me, just from my fingers…” He said as he pulled his fingers out of me, and moved down once more, both of his hands holding my thighs with a painful hold… A painfully pleasurable hold. I was fully aware of each of his touch, of his stroke on my body, on my burning skin, and yet, I felt like his touches were hotter than my skin, it sent shivers down my spine at each graze, each grasp.

Giving a tentative lick in the length of my sex, he said smugly, “I’ll have you cum on my face or not at all, now be good and be loud for me, we have a spectator,” He showed me his phone where Gojo’s name was displayed, Nanami mouthed ‘voicemail’ then started fucking me his tongue, I quickly called out his name in despair, making him look up, my slick running down his chin. “Can I?” I motioned my hands to his hair, “Don’t be shy, give it a push,” He cooed me, and I did exactly that.

I pushed his face between my legs and felt the vibration of his groan against my clit, pressure started building inside me once again. My mouth fell open, sounds of pleasure pouring out of my mouth as I gripped the blonde’s hair with more force, our moans were basking the room, definitely giving a show to the asshole who was going to hear it soon enough. Sucking my swollen nub, Nanami made the most sinful sounds, getting me so high on pleasure with his ministrations that I heard a sob escape my lips. Lust was clouding my senses, my head rolled back as a shiver ran through my whole body, my heels digging inside Nanami’s back while I arched my back.

His name escaped my mouth over and over again, at each press of his tongue against my clit, each time he’d drag his tongue along my fold, I was rocking my hips against his mouth for more. It only took his hands around my hips, pulling them towards his mouth for a better access, for me to let out another high-pitched cry of pleasure. The knot inside me snapped, utter bliss flooded my body as I felt the tension leave my body and my muscles relaxed, legs going limp around Nanami’s shoulders. I felt him give one last lick before gently removing my hands from his hair and lifting his head to hang up the phone.

When his eyes set on mine, he frowned, “Are you alright?” with care, he untied my wrists. It wasn’t as tight as it could have been, which meant it did not leave a mark, nor did it leave pain, something I was grateful for. “I’m more than fine, thank you for this…” With a short laugh, I tried to sit up, but Nanami held me down just a bit longer as he used his tie to get me cleaned up. I went to stop him, in vain when the man just looked at me while slithering his hand between my legs once more. “It’s gross, I could have gotten a towel or something…” I trailed off as I finally sat up, my thighs already a bit sore.

“Gross? You gave me the most enjoyable display that led to this, gross wouldn’t be the word I’d use to describe it. A treat, perhaps, a gift even, but not gross.” Flattered by his words I felt bad when I pointed at his dirty tie, “I meant… to use your tie for it,” Looking down at his hand, he did not react as he added, “It was going to go to the washing machine anyway,” He shrugged as he dropped it on the low table while leaning over to hand me my clothes. Thanking him, I saw his chin was still glistening with my cum, I quite enjoyed the sight but pointed at my own chin, for him to mirror, “You got something right there,”

Quirking a brow, he gave me a mischievous smile, “Is that so?” He asked, tilting his head to get closer to me, he looked down at me, the smile never leaving his face, “It’s your mess, clean it,”

Surprised, I stared at him a moment then let my eyes travel down to his chin, my breath hitched. If it had been anyone else, I would have stood up and told him to do it himself, but there was something with Nanami Kento that made my knees weak. So weak I could let them drop to the ground and take care of him in ways he’s never been taken care of. Instead, my mouth opened barely, my hand reached for his chin and placed itself under it. I approached my lips and stuck my tongue out then licked him tentatively, he wrapped his hand around my neck, holding it lightly. “Give me more enthusiasm,”

“Be grateful I’m doing it at all,” I breathed against his skin, tracing my tongue over his jaw. He chuckled in response, the side of his fingers digging in the side of my neck barely. “With how thorough you’re being, I’d say you’re enjoying it a lot more than you’re admitting it,” He grunted against my ear, stopping my actions. I pushed against his hand and pressed kisses down his jaw, when I tried to push him down, he tutted me, “Let’s eat first-“ he got interrupted by his phone’s constant ‘dings’, making him sigh as we both look at it and saw Gojo’s spam.

“Seems like he listened to our little message,” Nanami said, a little too happily. I let out the loudest annoyed groan when the blonde opened the conversation, he tilted the phone for me to see too. It made me laugh how he had left him on read the last message he sent, before the spam.

Satoru Gojo: ???

Satoru Gojo: what??

Satoru Gojo: what’s going on??

Satoru Gojo: Hello????

Satoru Gojo: Nanamin??

Satoru Gojo: Hi? :))

Satoru Gojo: don’t be like that, answer me

He was still typing when Nanami slowly typed back,

You: I gave your girlfriend cunnilingus on my couch.

Satoru Gojo: I GET THAT

Satoru Gojo: but like

Satoru Gojo: can I see??

Satoru Gojo: was she crying?

Satoru Gojo: why was she crying?

You: Because I made her cum. She was very polite about it, the way she asked to grip my hair…

I face Nanami quickly, my face flushed. “Don’t- there is no need to share that? He doesn’t deserve it” I breathed in panic. “Let’s say, it’s a goodbye gift, for him. To see what he lost,” Nanami said calmly.

Satoru Gojo: deadass?

Satoru Gojo: i did too

“He never did, but it’s fun he thinks he did. That means I fake well,” I said mockingly. Nanami placed his hand on my thigh and rubbed it gently, casually going higher and higher as he waited for Gojo’s texts. “What you gave me was not fake, I know what to expect now. You better not fake with me or you’ll pay the price, understood?”

My eyes widened, I scoffed jokingly but felt my arousal was very present from his words. “As long as you’re good, I won’t feel the need to fake,” I shrugged. He laughed genuinely, his hand sliding to my hip then to my lower back, “This is going to be fun,”

Satoru Gojo: she never cried tho

Satoru Gojo: do it again

Satoru Gojo: nanamin?

Satoru Gojo: hey, make her cum again

Satoru Gojo: Nams? Nanamin??

Nanami locked his phone, leaving the sorcerer on read, and turned to look at me, “That’s enough Gojo Satoru for one day, let’s see if the penny drops when he’s alone with his thoughts,”

“Right, I don’t think he realizes I’m breaking up with him, it sounds promising…” I mumbled, looking up at the blond man next to me when I felt him press gently my side, “Let’s eat first, then clear things up with him, but I have a few things to do before we talk to him once more,” the man said as he stood up, extending his hand to help me stand up. Taking his hand in mine, I let him guide me to the kitchen where he turned the stove on once more.

“As I said, first we eat, then…” He let go of my hand and stepped very close to me, leaning in, his lips grazed the shell of my ear, “Then I’ll fuck you senseless. Maybe I’ll start by fucking you in front of that glass over there,” he turned my head delicately, making me look at the bay window behind us, his open mouth trailed down my neck, barely touching my skin, “I want to show everyone how good you look when you take my cock-“ Before he finished his sentence, I hurried my hands to the buttons of his shirt. “I’m not waiting until we eat-“

Laughing, he gripped my hands tight and made me let go, “Oh, you are. You’re going to be a good girl and take it when I give it, understood? Or… you can beg, see if I care,” He trailed off, walking off to the fridge.

Looking at him, I already knew the evening was going to be long. But fuck, it sounded promising. I was not against begging, not if it was him.

[ginnyrules27]

I posted 618 times in 2022

That's 127 more posts than 2021!

378 posts created (61%)

240 posts reblogged (39%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@dizzydizney

@candy-pants

@descendantofthesparrow

@a-person-on-the-internet

@pink-flame

I tagged 423 of my posts in 2022

Only 32% of my posts had no tags

#disney's descendants - 179 posts

#disney descendants - 160 posts

#answering ask box - 150 posts

#ask box - 149 posts

#responding to ask box - 148 posts

#ffn - 111 posts

#fanfiction.net - 110 posts

#ginnyrules27 - 110 posts

#ben florian - 80 posts

#mal bertha - 66 posts

Longest Tag: 133 characters

#you live with a guy as your friend or at least acquaintance all your life and you'd pick up on things that scream out at you as wrong

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

I just... I have no words at how amazing this is! 

@descendantofthesparrow thank you so much for this amazing Ben! You did such an outstanding job on it! (tries not to go on a three hour rant about how we should have gotten more of Ben’s isle outfit in the movies)

But in all seriousness, check out @descendantofthesparrow​ for all sorts of amazing artwork while I flail over this and lament the lack of Ben things in fandom. 

48 notes - Posted March 25, 2022

#4

The face you make when your son shakes his hair dry at you after you did absolutely nothing during the time he was love spelled for the second time in six months. 

Ben, I wholeheartedly approve :D 

49 notes - Posted May 25, 2022

#3

Okay so disclaimer: I normally don’t go on Twitter, I stay away from the celeb gossip and pretty much the only reason I have it right now is for sports stuff and to stay up to date on the BTTMW2 convention in November. I also know that celebs are humans and they’re going to have differing opinions.

However there’s something about Dove Cameron liking a tweet condensing the Try Guys scandal as ‘imagine your husband cheated and then his friends give interviews about how traumatizing it’s been for them’ that gets my back up.

Ned wasn’t just their friend, he was their best friend going all the way back to their buzzfeed days. Ned was one of Keith’s groomsmen, Eugene babysat his kid even though he was not the most fond of babies…the four of them were brothers in a way.

As well, Eugene, Zach and Keith were friends with Ariel on top of the fact that Ned doing this fucked with the company that they built, that Ned convinced them to build, because he as co-owner of the company had an affair with a subordinate. And by the way they only had three weeks from when they learned the news to when the news officially dropped for the fans. That much stress that fast while grieving the end of a decade long friendship and worrying that your business is going to go under because of this hit to your brand is traumatic. And to make it seem like the men folk are making this about them while the dutiful wife should be the one doing interviews…

I dunno, maybe I’m wrong for this. Like I said, people have differing opinions on the topic and I know my perspective’s clouded since my mother’s first marriage ended because her husband cheated though not with an employee that I’m aware of. But considering Dove’s Breakfast music video had clear social commentary on the state of women’s rights in this country maybe that’s why I’m a little surprised to see her liking a tweet like this?

Then again, I doubt she runs her own socials at this point so there’s that too.

52 notes - Posted October 9, 2022

#2

Today on ‘paused at just the right time’...

Sorry not sorry--no way you can’t tell me that Huma’s not canon! No one looks at each other like that if some dormant feelings weren’t there. 

So yeah, Huma’s canon even if they never had a kiss. But that’s what fanfiction’s for. 

93 notes - Posted March 11, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Rewatching Julie and the Phantoms and I...I just don’t understand the decision to cancel this show. 

I mean first of all, can we talk about the lack of tired plot points on the show? The siblings get along and don’t act like bitter enemies, the teenager actually respects their parent, the group of guy friends are emotional with each other without doubting their masculinity...hell there’s not the tired old ‘husband hates his in-law’ ‘gag’ (looking at you Simpsons). 

But one I didn’t realize they turned on their head until a re-watch is the ‘school administrator is the enemy’ trope. When Julie’s trying to rejoin her music program, her teacher says her hands are tied (understandable because teachers gotta follow rules too). JatP could have easily made it so that the principal was some mustache twirling, nefarious, ‘ooh I hate kids’ trope we’ve seen a hundred times before. 

But they didn’t. 

When Julie’s teacher tells her again that her hands are tied about getting her into the music program after Julie preforms Bright, the principal responds with ‘but mine aren’t’ (which begs the question why didn’t Julie just ask the principal but show gotta show) and then goes on to say basically ‘don’t do this again but when you win your grammy I want to be thanked’ 

As a 90s kid who actually had some decent teachers, seeing them finally portrayed like humans (even on a ‘kids’ show) is refreshing. 

222 notes - Posted March 16, 2022

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[oddshelbyout]

A Little Too Fond Of Him // Thomas Shelby X Fem!Reader

Requested by: @accioholland

Taglist: @captivatedbycillianmurphy

Summary: You go out for a drink after a bad day and sit down with Tommy to have a conversation but you’re too distracted by his eyes.

Warnings: Swearing

Word Count: 1725

Author’s Notes:

I really love this request because I love writing soft Tommy and also best friends to lovers. I’m sorry if Tommy is a little out of character, I just wanted him to be softer around Y/N.

English is not my first language and I’m not always confident about my work so please let me know if I make any mistakes or anything I can fix in my writing.

You can ask to be added to my taglist. You can be tagged to works on a specific character or just any of my works. Please dm me or send your wish to my ask box if you’d like to be added.

Requests are open. You can request any Peaky Blinders related imagines or prompts for me to write. I’m a minor so I don’t take NSFW requests, please keep that in mind.

———————

It had been a long day. Being a teacher had it perks but you hadn’t come across to any of them that day. The children gave you a really hard time and you were extremely tired. You really needed a drink.

You went home first. You had to change your boring teacher clothes to your usual ones. You always cared if you looked good. You didn’t want to go out for a drink looking like an old lady.

Left home and made your way to the Garrison. You hoped Tommy, your best friend would be there because you hadn’t seen him for a while.

When you stepped into the pub, you noticed it was more crowded than usual. You wondered what was the occasion but also didn’t care enough to ask.

You walked to the bar, asked for a double scotch. Tommy always tried to make you drink irish whiskey and you were now just drinking scotch to annoy him even when he wasn’t around.

“Tommy’s in the booth if you’d like to say hello.” the bartender said as he put the glass in front of you. You smiled, you were happy that you could whine to him about your students. “Thanks.” you grabbed the glass and headed to the booth.

You opened the door seeing Tommy sit there with Finn and John but he wasn’t talking. He was just there watching his two younger brothers discuss something that himself wasn’t clearly interested in.

“So here are the Shelby boys, long time no see.” you said and their eyes turned on you. You closed the door behind you and stepped in.

“Y/N! Good to see you.” John said, he was always happy to see you. Finn just waved at you without saying a word.

“Out on a school night?” Tommy said before he took a drag from his cigarette. You shook your head and giggled.

“I don’t have any restrictions about that, unlike Finn.” your gaze fell on the youngest. He looked so annoyed, “I wouldn’t either if Tommy let me drop out.” he mumbled.

John patted on Finn’s shoulder, “Patience brother, patience.” he said and you saw a slight smile sit on Tommy’s face.

“Why don’t you sit down?” Tommy asked you and pushed the chair beside him so you can sit easily. You put your glass on the table first and then sat on the wooden chair.

“You seem a bit upset.” Tommy said to you, you licked your lips. “It’s okay, just a bad day.” you explained but he didn’t seem to be satisfied with your reply.

John and Finn saw that Tommy’s whole attention was on you so they excused themselves and said goodbye. You were now alone in the booth with Tommy and he seemed to be determined to know what was bothering you.

“I’m not convinced that’s just it.” he mumbled, you didn’t like when he was persuasive to get you talking but this time you actually wanted to tell.

“The kids barely listen to me, maybe it’s because I’m younger and not a bitchy old lady who’s only personality trait is being authoritarian.” you said in one breath and Tommy chuckled. That was rare but it made you smile even though what you were saying was pissing you off.

“You may be a bit too nice.” he said, you rolled your eyes. “Come on Tommy, I just don’t want to traumatise them.” you explained, he knew exactly what you meant.

“I’m not saying you have to be a bitchy old lady, just be a little more strict.” he said, you sighed. “I’m not like you Tom, I’m not good at not being nice.” you took a sip from your drink.

“Thank God for that.” he said and you smiled. He’d always said that his favourite thing about you was that you were too nice for your own good. At times it had bad consequences but being nice wasn’t something bad.

“I see you’re still drinking scotch.” Tommy said with his eyebrows raised. “I can’t believe you can distinguish whisky from the colour.” with your words his arms were up like he was guilty.

He looked tired but not like the usual, he just looked like he was fed up with something otherwise he wouldn’t try to keep the conversation on you if you stated you didn’t want that.

“Now tell me, what’s up with you?” you just had to ask. “Nothing.” he denied and lit up another cigarette. “There’s no way I’ll let you get away with not telling me.” you said directly, he sighed.

“It’s Finn.” he said, your eyes were fixated on his lips, so full and red. You always loved to examine his features while he spoke to you.

“I feel like I know where this is going.” you said and he sighed again. Your gaze drifted to his eyes. Oh his eyes, they were the most beautiful you’ve seen. They were such a light blue that you couldn’t believe how they could be real.

“He’s trying so hard to be like me.” he complained, he clenched his jaw. You didn’t respond, your mind was only working on how beautiful his eyes were at that moment.

“He’s only 16, he should do as I say not as I do.” he continued his rant. You were too distracted by his eyes, your impression went blank but the corners of your lips were still a little curled.

“I told him no guns and he went to steal one from Polly.” you weren’t hearing him. His eyes had mesmerized you once again. His blue eyes were blinding your eyes.

“I only want him to go to school so he doesn’t end up like me.” he said. He wanted his youngest brother to have a better future. You just nodded but not at what he said, you weren’t hearing him. You were nodding to your inside voice saying the shade of his eyes were just like the sky.

“Oi!” Tommy called and now you were back to the real world. “Huh?” you said coming back to realise he was telling you what was bothering you the whole time. You felt like a fool.

“Are you even fucking listening to me?” he asked, he was so annoyed. You licked your lips in shame. “Honestly, no.” you admitted. “You’re gonna make me tell it all again, right?” he asked, so you only sadly nodded.

He told it all once again, you had all your attention on him this time but you were still examining his individual features. How his cheeks blushed when he started to get angry.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked, you blinked in surprise. “Just appreciating your eyes.” you blurted out, only to realise what you said afterwards.

Tommy froze, his lips parted. “My eyes?” he asked and you pushed your lips together, you were embarrassed. There was no going back after this.

“Your eyes are just so pretty, they distract me.” you explained hoping he wouldn’t be weirded out by that. “You think my eyes are pretty.” he said softly, his lips curled up a bit.

“Yes.” you simply answered, you were so nervous about what he would say afterwards. “I think your eyes are pretty too.” he said and your jaw dropped. That was definitely not what you expected.

“My eyes are mediocre.” you said, your eyes were nowhere close to how beautiful his eyes were. “I think mine are too.” his voice was still soft, it wasn’t what you were used to.

“No, yours are extraordinary.” he couldn’t hold himself back and chuckled. You hadn’t seen him chuckle like that with a big smile in so long that you couldn’t believe it. He was actually happy that you said that and was definitely not weirded out.

“Extraordinary.” he repeated what you just said, his smile didn’t fade. Your one hand was sitting on the table and he moved his hand to yours. You felt your stomach twirl, it didn’t feel as good as you thought it would.

“Yes.” you were out of words to say. “What does it mean Y/L/N?” him calling you by your last name was nothing new but it felt different at that moment with the tone he said it with.

“You tell me.” you just really didn’t know where this was going and it scared you. “Maybe you’re a little too fond of me.” you held your breath, what he said wasn’t so easy to process. Were you in love with your best friend? No, that couldn’t be it or could it?

“No.” you simply replied, “Then why are you looking at me like that, telling me my eyes are extraordinary.” your wind was working so slowly. You had no idea how to respond to that.

“Okay, I might be a little too fond of you.” you admitted, you had no other choice. “So you finally realised.” he said and your eyes popped out of its place.

“What?” you blurted out, “I’ve been waiting for you to realise so I could ask you out.” he said. You jumped out of your seat, “What the fuck Tommy?” you shouted.

“You’re not as smart as you think.” you said before giving him a chance to speak, “Why did you have to wait for me? You didn’t wait for any other girl!” you weren’t angry but you were just so annoyed.

“You’re not some other girl.” he said and licked his lips. “I needed to be sure our friendship wouldn’t go to waste.” you took a deep breath, “Oh.” you could reply with only that.

“So you liked me all this time and didn’t say a word and also fucked around as much as you could?” you asked, he nodded, he obviously didn’t know how to reply

You sat back down on the chair and put your hand on the table again. This time he didn’t only get his hand closer to yours but held it. His cold hand gave you chills.

You didn’t even realise how much you were attracted to him and just in a blink you were going on a date. It was far from what you expected for the night, all you wanted was a drink after a tough day. You still were happy with the result and Tommy seemed to be too.

[nevermorecrystal1]

So this will be my opinions on the FIRST episode of Paramount+’s Halo TV Series.  This will be under a read more.  I get it since it is ONLY 1 episode, there is more coming.  Now, that Episode 2 is out. I feel that the I can post my 2 cents.  It might be a long rant, I’m sorry not sorry!  Still tagged with my Spoiler tag, to be safe.

     I will start with that I am a MORE Book Lore based fan of the series, I started with the books rather then the games.  Where my points come from the Books over the games. While I do understand that the TV Series is in it OWN timeline, called the Silver Timeline. So, it does not follow what we know as LORE for the franchise. I am also a HUGE Linda-058 Fan Girl, soo yeah....

     I am actually happy that we start off with the Insurrectionists/Rebels over the UNSC.  Since we all know that The SPARTAN II program started off as a way to combat them.  Now, tell me why the Innie’s had a BETTER set up with their vehicles over the UNSC with Chief later on in the episode?  Also did you catch the Elites going WORT WORT??  I sure did, that made me happy!

      Silver Team; John-117 [ POINTMAN/LEADER ], Riz-028 [ COMM SPEC ], Vannak-134 [ SUB-LEADER/ASSAULT ], and Kai-125 [ Sniper/INTEL SPEC ].  So we know that the other three Spartan II’s are in lore, however not much is known about them.  Love that we see other SII’s over the core of Linda, Kelly, Fred, and John.  I feel that we do need to see more of them, it just makes sense to me.  Granted I know in the games it more of the S-IVs.  However, Silver Team feels like to me a ‘clone’ or a knock off of Blue Team.  You have John, who is the always considered to be the leader and the Point-man of the team.  Vannak-134 feels like a Fred-104 clone, but I don’t hate it to be honest.  Like I don’t mind it because it seems like he has his back, similar to Fred has Chief’s.  "They can't court martial all of us" - Fred-104, Halo 5.

     Onto the females on the team. I am not the biggest fan of Kai-125.  I think this stems from the fact that I am a HUGE Linda-058 Fan Girl.  Cause Linda is kind of stated to be the GODDESS OF SNIPERS, she works them like they are a god damn art.  John had to order Linda to let him rescue her.  Linda is basically OVERWATCH [ in all caps ].  Perhaps, I need to watch more and perhaps she’ll grow on me.  But right now it is a hard NO from me.  Not only that, Linda would have acted like security in the cave they went into.  That Elite would have had a near 0% chance of running/living, if Linda was there. Also those elites at the ‘base’ shooting at her, would have BEEN DEAD before she moved to provide more overwatch. Riz-028 is a near Kelly Clone but she is not.  I mean she is fast, but not fast a Kelly.  I am waiting to see more of her to be honest. 

     Onto the Cave part, John flagged Vannak with Vannak’s OWN WEAPON.  THESE ARE CHILD SOLDIERS TURNED INTO ADULT SOLDIERS.  Senior Chief Petty Officer Franklin Mendez and crew WOULD NEVER TRAIN HIS BOYS AND GIRLS TO FLAG FRIENDLIES WHILE HANDLING OFF A LOADED GUN. The fact that Kai-125 failed at acting as security for John and failed at surveying the area just screams maddness at me.  But I am not tactical expert, Y’all should have heard my Boyfriend... With the scene at base on Reach, WHY WAS THERE A WORTHOG POSTED THAT CLOSE TO THE SHIP?

    Loved the whole Friendly Fire bit, GUYS THEY THOUGHT SO HARD.  Just imagine if there were more II’s there.  That shit would have been chaotic as all fuck man.  You know who I’m missing?  1 Sergeant Major Avery Junior Johnson, but in a way I am happy.  Cause one would have to find a man who can pull off the SHEER CHARMISA of him. 

     Onto the last piece; John removing his fucking helmet. I get it, it is a TV show.  But excuse me, that man should have had either a bald head or a cleaner high and tight and NO facial hair.  Like I get the argument that people have about the helmet removal.  I have to remind myself that this is just a tv show.  Which they stated that they did not use the game as the base but looked at characters from it.  

TELL ME YOU DID NOT READ THE LORE WITHOUT TELLING ME YOU DID NOT READ THE LORE!!

[benaffleckofcrowdsurfing]

Lazerquest - part 2

Alex Turner x Reader

Chapter 2/?

Description: you are an impulsive bartender who recently moved to London after traveling across the United States and living on the road for a few years. You befriend Alex, a musician who recently got out of a long term relationship, and you show him the ways of your free-spirited lifestyle in an attempt to help him move on from his ex. However, you become more of a muse than a friend for Alex and all is revealed when he releases his band’s fourth studio album, “Suck it and See”.

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: none

Tag list (msg me if you would like to be added):

@imagine-that-100 @lolurnotmileskane

Updates whenever the heck I please (at least once a week) 

A/N: hi two updates in one day because im eager to get this show on the road.... by next week i wanna have 4 or so chapters up. also if u wanna send me requests or questions or just be my friend u can message me or whatevah, im always open to talk to people :)

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

“So you’re telling me that you were homeless for 3 years?” 

Alex and you were on your way home now, walking shoulder to shoulder and laughing like school children. He had a fantastic sense of humor and was witty beyond belief. The two of you had been playing off of each other and bantering non-stop for the last hour of your shift and ended up getting a bit tipsy before you left. Now you were reeling through the quiet streets of London toward your flat.

“Absolutely not! I could have gone home, I just didn’t. I never even slept in my car or anything I was always in someone’s house or a hotel room. Think of it as like…… I went on tour.” you giggled. 

Alex rolled his eyes. “Love, I am a musician. That’s not a tour. That’s a teenage girl living out of her car and smoking an obscene amount of marijuana with strangers in every state.”

You stopped dead in your tracks and a massive smile appeared across your face. “A musician you say?”

“Yes, Y/N. A musician.”

“Well have I heard you in anything before? What’s your band called? Are they big?”

“Not sure if you’d have heard us. We only have one or two big songs in the states. We’ve got a bit of success here in Europe, though. Ever heard of Arctic Monkeys?” 

Your jaw dropped. Everything was falling into place. Alex. Alex Turner. Arctic Monkeys. The hair. The voice. The confidence. 

“No. There’s no way. You’re not Alex Turner. That can’t be right.” you shook your head in disbelief. 

Alex looked at you and furrowed his brows. “Do I not live up to my name, darling?”

You blushed and your eyes grew wide “Oh my God no that’s not what I meant! I’m just trying to wrap my head around the fact that I’ve spent the last two hours with a heartthrob rockstar and I didn’t realize it.” 

“A heartthrob you say?” Alex puffed his chest up and lifted his chin in a sort of playful, cocky way.

“Woah woah woah, Turner. Don’t go all narcissistic on me. I’m just repeating what the tabloids say.” 

Alex chuckled and shook his head. “You’re funny, Y/N. This is one of the best nights I’ve had in a long time.”

“I don’t believe that. You’re hanging out with some tipsy bartender in the middle of some random neighborhood.” 

“Trust me, this is better than what I usually do on Friday nights.” 

“What does a big rockstar like you usually do on Friday nights then?” 

“Recently? Sleep until one in the morning and then get fucked up at some bar alone. Then go back to sleep.”

“Well that’s depressing.”

“Just be glad that tonight you could provide a lad some real fun.”

At that Alex put his arm around your shoulder and pulled you in for a side-hug. He smelled like cigarettes and sandalwood musk, and you wished you could have your new friend’s arm wrapped around you forever. To lengthen your time close to him, you wrapped your arm around his waist and the two of you began walking with your arms wrapped around each other.

“Well, here we are,” you sighed after a few more minutes of walking. “Home sweet home.”

The two of you looked up at the apartment complex in front of you. Alex still had his arm wrapped around you, and you were fumbling through your jacket pocket for your keys. “Do you want to come in? Obviously you don’t have to, but it’s pretty chilly tonight and I’m not sure how far you live.”

Alex flashed you a smile and you blushed at the sight of his hand going through his unruly hair and his brown eyes looking into yours. “I’d love to come in.”

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

“Just go ahead and make yourself at home. I’ve got to go take a shower and warn my roommate that you’re here. There’s alcohol in the pantry and the glasses are in the cupboard left of the sink.” You let out a long sigh of relief as you entered your flat. Alex followed you closely, taking off his sweater when he passed through the threshold. You had to keep yourself from staring at his toned arms before biting your lip and walking down the hall towards Tatiana’s room.

“Hey Tati, wake up,” you whispered and tapped your flat-mate on the shoulder. She snorted awake and gave you a dirty look.

“Why are you waking me right now?” She grunted.

“I just wanted to let you know that the man in the living room is not an intruder and is instead a new friend of mine.”

Tati’s eyes shot open. “YOU MADE A FRIEND? A MALE FRIEND? WHAT KIND OF FRIEND?” she squealed. You gave her a dirty look and put your hand over her mouth to shush her.

“Thin walls, idiot. He’s just a friend friend.”

“I don’t believe that for one second. I’m gonna go out and say hi to him.”

“You better not, Tatiana.” 

“I’m goinngggggg!!” Tati sang as she slipped out from under her comforters and towards the door. You put your forehead in your palm before following her and making sure she didn’t say anything stupid.

“Alex, this is my roommate Tati. Tati, Alex.” you muttered as Tatiana waltzed into the living room and sat beside Alex on the couch. When she plopped down beside him and turned to shake his hand, her eyes went wide. 

“It’s- it’s uh- it’s nice to m-meet you Alex,” she stuttered. Once again, your forehead was in your palm. god dammit Tati. Of course you know who he is.

“Very good to meet you, Tati. This is a lovely place you two have,” Alex chuckled, and shook Tati’s hand firmly. She was ghost white.

“Tati, don’t you think it’s time for you to go back to sleep?” you said through gritted teeth. Tatiana shot you a confused look and smiled weakly at Alex before you both went back down the hall into her room.

After making sure the door was closed behind the both of you, Tatiana looked at you with her jaw dropped and her eyes wide.

“Alex Turner is in my living room. Why is Alex Turner in my living room?” She hissed. 

You sat on her bed and finally took off your heels. “He showed up at the club like, an hour before closing and just started talking to me. I didn’t realize who he was until we were on our way back here.”

“Are you saying you invited Alex Turner into our house without realizing it was Alex Turner?” 

“Actually he was the one who offered to walk me home. I didn’t invite him in until we got here.” 

“Alex Turner….. offered to walk you home….”

“As friends. Just friends.”

“Love, I don’t care if he’s just a friend, you still caught the eye of Alex motherfucking Turner.”

You rolled your eyes and chuckled before standing up and skipping toward the door. “Well you sit here and have your Alex Turner breakdown, I’m going to go shower so I don’t keep our guest waiting any longer.” 

***********

After your shower, you put on an old sweater and some yoga pants. You ran a comb through your wet hair as you walked out of your room to see Alex sprawled out in the couch, a glass of whiskey in his hand. 

“Glad to see you made yourself at home, Turner,” you teased, and ruffled his hair as you walked past him and towards the kitchen. 

“Only doing what you asked, Y/L/N,” Alex yawned.

“Not getting tired there, are you?” You smirked. Alex sat up on the couch and looked at you with a goofy smile and tired eyes.

“Not a bit.”

“Bullshit. You can stay if you’d like. I’m perfectly comfortable with letting you crash on the couch as long as you let me sit with you for a while so I can drink my glass of wine,” you cooed before taking a bottle of wine and a glass to the living room. 

Alex moved his legs out from next to him and patted a spot on the couch. “Of course, Y/N. I’d love the company.” When you sat down next to him, he put an arm around you and you rested your head on his shoulder. “For a girl I only met a few hours ago, I trust you a lot. It’s been a long time since I’ve enjoyed someone’s company like this.”

You blushed and did your best to hold back a giggle. “Trust me, I’m not usually this calm. I promise I’ll be a bit more interesting once I get some sleep.” 

“Oh you’re plenty interesting already, Y/N. I am excited to see what you’re like at not 4 in the morning, though.”

“Thanks Alex.”

“Y/N? Can I rant to you for a bit? I need the advice of a woman.”

“Of course, Alex. What’s up?”

Alex took a deep breath and pulled you in a bit closer. You could tell whatever he was about to say had been bothering him for a while and you patted his thigh reassuringly.

“It’s okay Alex. I’m here for you,,” you sat up and put your arms around him, so now his head was on your shoulders. You continued cooing affirmations to him and running your hand through his hair before he took his head off of your shoulder and looked you in the eyes.

“Alexa and I broke up last week,” he whispered. Tears began forming in his eyes and you moved your hands from around his neck to the sides of his face to wipe away the tears now streaming down his cheeks. 

“I’m sorry Alex, that’s awful,” you whispered. He pulled you back into a hug and nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck. You both sat in silence for a while before he sighed and gave you a little squeeze.

“I’m sorry for getting all emotional on you, I promise I’m usually more cool than this,” Alex chuckled weakly. “I just don’t have anyone other than my mates to talk to right now and I just feel really comfortable around you.”

“It’s okay Alex. I’m one hundred percent here for you. I’m gonna help you get through this. I promise,” you whispered. You could feel Alex’s tears on your neck and you couldn’t help but get a bit choked up yourself. It’d been years since anyone had confided in you and the fact that Alex felt comfortable enough to let you in on a secret like that in only one night of knowing you warmed your heart. You knew that Alex would be a friend for a long time and you were determined to help him through this. 

“Hey, Al?”

“Yeah, Y/N/N?”

“I know what we’re gonna do tomorrow.”

[licenselesswriter]

1, 2, 3, 4, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 13, 14, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38, 39, 41, 44. And if I could send more, I would.

Inspiration and Reading Asks:

1. How long ago did you start reading fanfiction? Writing fanfiction? Started reading when I was 12, started writing it, when I was 14, so reading, 19 years ago, and writing 17 years ago.

2. How do you spend your time when it comes to fanfiction? Are you primarily a fic reader, writer, or a perfect 50/50 split of both? I’m a 33.3% reader, 33.3% WIP machine, a 33.4% writer, and 100% mess, I usually spend my time doing an absurd amount of WIP that comes out of thin air, like, I can be eating an apple, boom, Bori WIP, a cup of coffee? Boom, Roro WIP, breathing? Boom, Lucaya WIP (that last one happens the most)

3. Are there any fics that inspired you to write what you do? It’s called Unfaithful (EN), it’s on fanfiction.net, and honestly, it’s so well written, that I had nausea 3 times while reading it, the pain was so palpable that I felt ill from it.

4. Link your three favorite fics right now. Right now, and in order 1 - Unfaithful (EN)  2 - Twenty Nights  3 - Perfect 

6. How do you find a new fic to read? Where do you primarily read fanfiction? Fanfiction or AO3, and have an excel doc with my favorite ships, then I go to the random number generator, putting 1 as the minimum and maximum the number of the last ship I added to the list, then hit random, and read about that ship, keep things fresh.

7. Do you prefer to read short fics or long fics? Both.

8. How often do you reblog/comment on fics that you like? When they are on Tumblr, a few times.

9. Tag 3 fic writers you think are underrated/unknown in the fandom/fanfiction community. I’m sorry, but I don’t know if they have Tumblr, so, amirmitchell, snowdrifts, and Onde Tu Esteves

10. What’s your favorite fandom, pairing, or character to read fic for? Fandom: Game of Thrones, love all those modern universe AU I have to say. Pairing: Lucaya (Not a surprise) Character: Lucas Friar, Portgas D. Ace, Roronoa Zoro, or Prince Zuko.

Fanfiction Writing Asks:

11. How do you come up with your fic titles? Coffee, food, and usually, Spotify, all that, sometimes, make my brain work into having titles about the things I want to write.

13. Do you outline your fics? How much of a headache would someone get if they just looked at an outline of yours without reading the fic? I do outlines, in 5 stages, so a pretty big one. 1 - I write in my notebook, what I want to write, like a general idea. 2 - Post it on my walls and door, to give the story some structure. 3 - Notebook outline the arch of the story. 4 - Outline every chapter on word. 5 - Reduce that chapter into mini arches to write faster.

14. Do you have a personal word minimum that you hold yourself too? Why or why not? I do (now), I usually don’t post anything that is less than 2900 words, Why? because we must not forget that writers not only write for people in the fandom, they mainly write for themselves, and I love to read something among that word count because that’s long enough to keep me on the hook.

16. Do you research for your fics? If so, how deep of a rabbit hole have you gone down by accident when researching? I do research for my fics, how deep? I can give indications for divorce paperwork in the state of New York, even if you want or not to go scorch the earth with the “fault” rule, I can give an appropriate value to an apartment or a house in New York, Texas, Nashville, and San Francisco, and I can do taxes on those states too, and I know more about how high school classes work in the US than in my country, even when I went to those classes, and I’m from Santiago, Chile, you know, in South America, like, the last country of South America

17. How obsessively do you sit and stare at your fic after you’ve just posted and wait for feedback? I don’t, once I finish writing something, I run away, and watch anime for a few hours, or work (Yeah, sometimes I write on my lunch hour)

18. Do you have a WIP that you keep telling yourself you’ll eventually get back to, but deep down you know that’s probably a lie? I do apologize to “The Games we Play” I have no idea how I outlined your 26 chapters, but I’m still on chapter 2, and I’m sorry.

19. Do you edit your fics after you write them, or do you prefer to just hit post and run (because it’s someone else’s problem now)? Sometimes I do because sometimes, I write things wrong.

20. What’s your favorite part about the fanfiction writing process? That happiness I get when I’m in the Zone, and I write something that makes me say “Fuck, that was good”

21. What’s your least favorite part about the fanfiction writing process? I call it “The Deep White”, also known as writer’s block.

23. What’s your absolute favorite trope to write? I don’t write it anymore, because I was banned from a forum for writing it, but I love to write a bad ending, like “Killing the main character that I make you love for 30 chapters in the end” ending. I’m evil, I know, sue me.

24. What’s a trope that you’d like to never hear about as long as you live, let alone write? The “Good girl trying to change the bad boy,” I hate, apologies, I DESPISE that trope, it’s not cool, first, to be with someone abusive, and second, to try to change someone because you think you’re so almighty that you will change him (or her)  because of love, bs, I SAID BS.

25. Do you listen to music as you write? If possible, link your writing playlist. I do, and of course, it’s named “Writing Shiet” because my brain can only process decent titles for fics (Says the guy who once named a fic “No Title”) Here’s the link 

26. What’s your biggest distraction when writing? Anime and Manga.

27. Do you like to give your readers some warning of what might be coming or just slap them in the face with content at random? I don’t usually do it, but when I do it, I do it cryptic, like “You might be surprised, but this, I called in the beginning.”

28. How do you deal with writing pressure (ie: pressure to update, negative comments, deadlines, etc)? I ignore it, If I can ignore good advice, ignore something that gives me more stress it’s an easy cake.

29. Have you ever written for an exchange or event of some kind? Which one(s)? Did you enjoy it? I did but didn’t submit, I wrote for 2019 fictoberfest on Tumblr, but never send a shit, I did enjoy it tho

30. Post a snippet from your current WIP without context - no more than 300 words. "Well, we're still not in Texas," he says, implying something not PG-13 at all. "My God, in what did I turn you?" Maya teases him before getting up and grab his hand, pulling him up. Lucas grins at her, "On," he replies, making Maya flirty hit his chest

31. Of the characters you write for, which is your favorite? Has that choice been swayed at all by your followers/readers’ reactions to certain ones? I love writing Lucas and Maya, and honestly don’t know if it helps me or not LOL.

32. Copy and paste your top three favorite lines/jokes/sentences you’ve ever written. What fics do they come from? 1 - From November to June CH3 A few hours later, Maya heard a knock on her door. She takes a peek through the magic eye on her door and saw Lucas. She grabs her phone and fastly texts him. She was able to hear the 'ding' of his phone, and spying through the magic eye she saw his reaction. "Ok, first of all, I'm not that, second, my mother is not that, and third, I'm not gonna put that there, that's fucking gross, and probably deadly if you consider the size of my hands." he defends himself. 2 - Ten Duel Commandments CH2 Maya smiles at him, "Since you're all Texan cowboy goody-good boy, I imagine you would relate more with the honorable Lord Stark," she teases him. "Says the woman who read three books in a row and texts me at four in the morning," he replies before pulling out his phone, "R+L=J," he teases her, reading her text. "That's private, asshole," Maya recriminates him. 3 - The One Who Stayed CH18 "Then, I have less... GET OFF ME FUCKER!" Maya screamed, punching the person who grabbed her arm, "Holy shit, Lucas." she says, looking at the person she just hit. "Noted, never approach to you by surprise." Lucas says on the floor, "Well, this makes me feel more confident about you being here alone." he says before start laughing.

33. What do you like writing better: one-shots or multi-chapter stuff? Multi-chapter, unless, it’s wedding fics because I love weddings.

34. How much of yourself and your life experiences do you put into your writing? What do you think your readers’ image of you is? None.

35. How much has writing fic changed your life? Not much, but has made me happier.

36. Are there any fics or fandoms you’re embarrassed to have written or been part of? The Glee Project Fandom.

37. Give an update on your current WIP - if you don’t have one, give a sneak peek to a title or idea that you have and would like to write. "Shawn called him, and he assures him that if you try something inappropriate, he has a shotgun," she adds, making Lucas's face go pale. "Well, guess like father, like son," he comments, making Maya show unexpected interest in his words.

38. What does your writing process look like? How chaotic is it on a scale of 1 (very tame) to 10 (you can’t handle this kind of chaos)? As I explained in the outline question, pretty tame if we count that I have my outline process numbered LOL.

39. What’s something about your writing that you pride yourself on? That I try to make it real, I try to make people feel something when they read.

41. What’s your most popular fic (with the most notes on Tumblr, most hits/kudos on ao3)? Tumblr? The One Who Stayed Fanfiction.net? Ten Duel Commandments

44. Rant about something writing-related. Please, let’s stop glorifying the “Bad Boy” character, he’s an asshole, allow me to explain, Bakugo, fucking asshole, he’s just a bully with an oversized ego, no, he’s not a tsundere, no, it’s not cute, that shit is abusive, and it really makes me want to punch people in their nose when the romanticize that bullshit.

Done

(Told ya I was bored)

[xlady-saya]

i’ve had a love of my own [ch 3]

Relationships: andrew/neil

Summary: Despite everything Neil could’ve imagined for his life, he never thought he’d be here, finally giving the world the interview they’ve always wanted.

It’s been decades, but even with his numerous accolades and sports wins, he finds that they’re the least important thing about his life.

Neil can’t help but laugh. Andrew would be so annoyed if he were here.

Of course, Neil only wants to talk about him, and the life they spent together.

Tags: interviews, post canon, major character death but not how u think I swear lol, neil is an old man retelling his memories about andrew, cheesy romance, post retirement, see more tags on ao3

Read on ao3!

He expects pain, he always expects pain.

His head hits the floor and his vision floods with red, the headache spreading like a fog through his skull. For a moment, he's back on a cold basement floor, and his legs won't work, they won't move.

The vision wobbles though, the voices of the past aren't as clear. It's been so long since he's been taken back to that place, to the body of a nineteen year old with nothing to save him. Even now, it's not as strong. The memory fades in and out until the roar of the crowd shatters it completely.

Neil's not on the basement floor, his father is dead. Yes, at the age of thirty-five he's come to accept that, to smile at the thought.

He knows something is wrong, because he does smile in his delirious state, and someone above him makes a choked, sobbing noise. His frown returns. He thinks it sounds like their team captain, and she's calling, yelling for someone...

There's a referee whistle and an uproar that follows. It's probably a few seconds, at most, but his awareness moves at a slug pace. He tastes copper and tries to grip his racquet, but he must've dropped it.

Must've...

Neil tries to move, but when he does his body jolts. Like being next to a speaker blasting sound, his spine vibrates and his cells scream. He thinks they might be breaking apart. Is that possible? He'll have to ask Aaron.

His eardrums ring from the cries of panic around him, but they're not his own. The gasps and screams of fear are not his, though they probably should be. Any other time, he'd be in an anxious stir, wondering if the puppet strings holding him up would finally snap.

He freezes, his body refusing to let him move.

But it's not pain.

If it were pain, he could power through it, he could move with a strain and a groan. If it were pain, he could cry and freak out and wonder what happened.

That's how he knows it's bad. This isn't a normal accident, a typical injury. This is something serious.

All at once it comes crashing down onto him, and he forces his eyes open.

The lights of the stadium are mind-numbingly bright and there's people trying to get his attention, but he doesn't care. Neil pushes the fingers someone is holding up aside, trying to sit up and hating himself when he can't. A few seconds. At most.

He tilts his head towards the goal, because even in his state he knows the Exy court by heart. That's how he's measuring time. It's only been seconds, because there's no way Andrew would take any longer to get to him.

He watches the blond sprint the remaining few feet, brutally shoving anyone out of the way. There's a snarl, and commands being barked.

"Back the fuck off."

"Don't touch him."

"Neil, can you hear me?"

Neil's throat is too dry to respond, but he squints his eyes up at Andrew, scanning his face in that infuriating way he does when he's trying to get a rise out of his boyfriend. Yes I can.

The hands around him grip him harder, probably enough to bruise, but Neil can't feel it at all. Ah, not good. Not good at all.

He expects Andrew's face to morph back into annoyance, or the begrudging amusement he always directs at Neil when he's being a little shit like that. Then he would know it's alright, it's not as bad as everyone is making it out to be.

It does not.

Andrew's expression remains stripped of his calm, of his restraint. All the things Andrew cultivates, the neutral indifference he shows the world...it's all gone.

Once again, because of Neil.

And Neil hates it, he wants to reach up and cradle Andrew's face in his hands and will him back into a sense of peace, into contentment.

Instead, all he sees is panic, a desperation he's familiar with but hoped to never see again. Like if Andrew could, he'd shelter Neil from the entire world, hide him away in his chest until he was all healed.

Neil tries to move again, one fruitless attempt to show Andrew he's alright.

All he gets is a sickening crack.

--

He doesn’t realize how silent the meeting room has become until he stops speaking.

Neil cuts himself off there, squinting down at the floor as the static buzzes around him and tries to cling to words that are no longer forming.

No, no.

Neil bites his lip.

"Sorry, that's not right," he says, slicing through his recount of Andrew's expression. He recalls the way Andrew’s hands tightened around Neil's trembling form as if he could put him back together all by himself. Neil still feels the light pressure on his skin, and reaches up to graze the back of his neck. He swears there's the slightest dip, another part of his body Andrew left a permanent mark on.

It's not a memory he's afraid of, or one he's sensitive about. It's just—

Neil looks up.

At this point, Blake and Rayah have gotten comfortable. They're sitting, shoes toed off and legs up on the comfy meeting room chairs. Rayah's manicured nails are eating through the thread of her stockings, body tight with nervous energy. They both blink, as if shaken out of some dream. Neil's never prided himself on being a good storyteller, but he guesses with a life as random and convoluted as his sometimes was, it's hard not to be a little interested.

Blake has the most apparent reaction, squinting at Neil before looking at Rayah for confirmation that Neil did indeed stop there. "...what?"

Rayah, forgoing all professionalism at this point, puts her hands in front of her as if to ask: and?

Normally, Neil might smile, but something begins to unfurl in his gut.

Yes, he knows what the problem is, but weighing the risk is a lot harder than he thought.

Can he entrust that kind of knowledge to these people? Is that reckless?

Is it really his life story if it's not at least a little dangerous?

He knows if Aaron were here, he would scoff, though more fondly. 'You always have to get those around you in trouble.'

Perhaps, but he'll be careful. If he relays this right...if he leaves blurry spots...

He can still get the important stuff across.

"I don't want to start there," Neil says, sighing. "Everyone knows what happened, it was all over the news."

Why waste time repeating details that can be viewed online in a video?

Before it was confirmed the injury was condemning Neil to an early retirement, most of the coverage had been about Andrew's severe reaction. His unwillingness to leave Neil's side, the way he shoved people away like they weighed nothing...

It annoyed Neil to no end how people's main reaction had been to finally say 'oh, so he does care.' For so long, that's all Neil wanted; he wanted people to accept Andrew's devotion, to acknowledge other sides of him that disproved the heartless whispers. Though, once that day happened, Neil realized people didn't deserve to see the evidence. Even when provided it, they twisted it and used it as even more of a reason to doubt them. After all, if Andrew cared so much, why didn't he show it more often?

Even now, decades later, Neil has to bite his tongue from going off into a rage fueled rant. He glares down at the floor, like he could burn the world to pieces.

Andrew put himself in such a vulnerable position just for Neil on that day, showing so much. Like Baltimore, his restraint was gone, focus turned entirely on Neil for the full span of his recovery. Andrew never viewed Neil as a weakness, far from it, but that intimacy was not something he readily liked to share.

For good reason, too. It belonged to them only, at least while they both lived. But on that day, it had been on full display for people to pick at, while internally Andrew's entire being probably screamed and twisted itself inside out.

Worried.

If Neil could've gone back in time, he would've been more careful, he would've made sure people didn't get to see Andrew like that and make their foul assumptions. In their years together, they'd made a silent, but unrealistic promise to try and spare each other pain. It was hypocritical of them, two people so familiar with how unforgiving the world could be. Would be. They never fooled themselves into believing things would always work out right away, or at all. Yet...they worked so hard to make sure neither of them had to experience fear.

And that day, Andrew had been terrified.

Neil knew it wasn't his fault, but old habits die hard. He'd been hung up on it for a while, always hellbent on protecting this person of his.

He and Andrew were insufferably the same in that way.

Months and months later, Andrew had flicked him in the forehead and told him to knock it off, that the past couldn't be changed. They could only move forward, and resume their fragile promise. No more martyr cards.

They both were all too familiar with how life could be disrupted, but Neil had still felt petty about it, about how people overlooked this commitment to one another based on a five minute clip. The urge to clear up Andrew's reputation had probably begun there, waiting to be ignited in his old age.

He wanted people to understand Andrew's actions that day weren't out of character in the slightest. They had no right to look on and judge.

Especially not with what happened later, the way they both had to mourn the life they'd built together, for fear it would be snatched away.

Yes, Neil kept those nights close to his heart, locked in his mind for no one else. Too raw, too exposed. Deadly.

But now, well, it's the most important part of this whole question, unavoidable. Andrew's immediate reaction to Neil's injury had been explosive, powerful, but not nearly as telling as what followed.

Rayah stutters, catching up with Neil's meaning. She leans forward, but her pleas fall on deaf ears. "Yes but...Andrew's reaction was so strong--"

"And again, everyone saw," Neil reiterates. He closes his eyes, trying to find patience he no longer has. If he ever did. He sags further into his wheelchair, contemplating it all. How to best go about it. "I just...this was supposed to be about the sides of Andrew people didn't see."

And maybe about sides of him too. Weird, how he tricked himself into that one.

"But it would help people understand your relationship more if you went more into detail about his protective side," Blake tries.

He's right, but that's exactly why Neil can't start there. It barely scratches the surface. He sighs, knowing this is already a stupid idea. Yet, if he's trying to share the true sides of how hard Andrew would've worked to keep him safe, he has no choice.

Neil nods, smile sad. Those hours spent in Andrew's arms, waiting for death, feel so far away now. Back then, his world had been crumbling, and now it's but a piece in the timeline.

He never let himself feel grateful for that, he realizes.

"Yes, but that was just a glimpse of it, albeit a violent one. It makes for something more engaging, climactic, I'll give you that." Neil huffs.

That's what's good for interviews, but Neil's made it clear he doesn't give a damn about that.

"But what I can give you is better, more important," he promises, because it's true. He swallows around the lump in his throat; even now, his mind is not so willing to give away the last of his private moments. But if not now, then when? "Andrew's protectiveness took a lot of forms, and I'm not saying the circumstances surrounding my retirement didn't affect him in the ways seen in the video..."

He knows they did. The panicked expression flashes in his mind once more.

"But I think what happened after that would make more sense," Neil says, and already the potential consequences make him shiver. Force of habit; his blood runs cold whenever he thinks of a black car, a loud cane hitting hardwood. "It would help people understand."

Blake and Rayah exchange a look, feet hitting the floor slowly. Neil assumes at this point they can sense his strain, the foreboding mingling with the air. "You mean...your recovery?"

"No," Neil whispers, and holds off, because Sydney comes in right on cue. Her entrance makes the two journalists jump right out of their seats, but her presence is so standard for Neil. He could hear her footsteps in the dark and immediately know it's her.

"Alright, I'm sure you all must be hun--uh," she stops, jumping a little herself at their reactions, about the air in the room around her. She blinks once, takeout menu in hand. Brown's. The usual, and Neil's favorite. It was Andrew's favorite place to take him on dates when he was retired, according to Andrew 'only old people eat here.'

It never failed to make Neil laugh.

Sydney's smile is cheery at first, especially when her eyes rest on him, but it falls soon after. As Neil grew older, he learned letting people in was actually a good thing most of the time. However, he's still painfully aware of the downsides.

Sydney tenses up from whatever look is on Neil's face. Years of caring for him have made her attuned to his mood, the subtle mannerisms which make up any one of his given reactions.

And she can sense dread like a smell, potent and coppery.

It must be something else that comes with the territory, of years spent at Andrew and Neil's side.

She's there next to him in an instant, checking his pulse and looking around at the table to see if anything's wrong. It makes Neil chuckle when she goes as far as to check his water, like it can be accidentally poisoned right in front of him.

She looks between Neil and his guests, takeout menu clutched in her hand to an almost distorting degree, but Neil reassures her no protection is needed. He touches her wrist as tight as he can, given his lack of grip, and presses down until she lets up on the menu.

She blinks down at where they touch, then back up again, brown eyes squinting in confusion.

As safe as Neil plans to be about this, he doesn't want her anywhere near them.

"Sydney. Brown's is fine. Get our usual okay?" Neil says, and hopes his stare is as piercing as he means it to be. He's never asked her like this; she always knows. They've shared the same lunch together for years, and she probably still knows Andrew's order too. It's deliberate, and while he hates ordering her around in such a way, it's necessary here. He'll make it up to her somehow.

But he needs her to leave.

"Yes, of course, but...is something the matter?" She asks slowly, staring him down.

Ah Sydney, she always knows too much for her own good. Neil can't help but smile at her. Her perceptiveness matches his own at times, and maybe that's why she was so comfortable attending to him. She seems to understand in an instant, so he doesn't baby her with trying to hide the gist of what he's about to get into.

"Go put in the order, close the meeting room door and whatever you do, don't let anyone else come in," Neil instructs, letting go of her with one last imploring squeeze. "Knock when you come back, I shouldn't be long."

He watches her swallow and nod, glancing back at the two reporters. They're sitting up straight again, but not due to any expected politeness. They're more than aware of how in the dark they are, but Neil is guessing they've read up on him well enough too.

They should know they're about to step in a little deeper.

"Okay," Sydney says, veneer of calm back in place. She takes Blake and Rayah's orders and then leaves, not bothering to linger. "Excuse me."

Neil waits until her steps completely fade from the outside hallway before he turns back to his guests, expression grave.

Old threats echo in his mind, reminding him of the old can of worms. He's not even sure if they even apply anymore, but he took them seriously enough when the Moriyamas gave them to him, he still shudders to think about defying them. He's probably been forgotten in that world at this point, but he can never be too safe.

"I'm going to make something clear about this part of the story," He begins, and shakes his head when Rayah grabs her recorder. Nothing recorded for this, only notes. If that's even smart… “For your own safety, you are not to ask too many questions about this particular incident. No names, no affiliations, not even questions about how they looked. You're going to wait until I'm dead and gone before you release it, and edit it so it's as vague as possible. Not the Andrew parts, but the rest. Don't let it fall into anyone else's hands."

He trusts himself to be careful enough where no connections can be made, no assumptions tied back to any one family past or present. But...insurance is paramount.

From the way the reporters look at each other, Neil almost wants to laugh at the assumptions they're making. The mob is in many ways a business; it's built upon negotiations, psychology, and ties. It's not entirely the bloody, underground image the movies portray.

But...it can be.

"Okay...what is this about?" Blake asks,

Neil smiles ruefully. "I'm sure you know all about my father's line of work." He grimaces, and amends: "The Butcher, I mean."

They nod instantly, probably unsure if it was okay to bring it up. In most cases, no, and he won't be doing it again. His father is good for context, nothing else.

"We...we know you gave up a lot to the FBI, that you got out of that life," Rayah says, like she's reading text right off his wiki article.

He guesses that's fair. No one knows much; his father's gang got caught, died, and Neil testified against the rest. Signed, sealed, done.

"That's what the news reports said, easy to spin," he responds, clicking his tongue. "Poor Neil Josten, a victim of one evil man and his gang. But it was never that simple, and I was never free, not for a long time."

He'd viewed it as freedom though. It was the best outcome he could've asked for, given all he'd been prepared for. He'd been given the unlikely chance to cultivate and build his life, but it always felt suspended, and they knew it. One wrong move for any of them, be it himself, Jean, or Kevin, and those chances would be revoked.

It hadn't really occurred to him how suffocating that reality was until his time ran out.

"You were still in the mob?"

Neil shrugs.

"I had some debts that needed to be paid, to people much much more powerful than my father. You would not even begin to understand how deep these organizations run or how influential they are. I was tied up in it for a lot of my career, and it all came to a head when I got hurt."

After the sickening crack, Neil doesn't remember much. But part of him had to know he'd never play again, and for him, that was a death sentence. He'd been prepared to make his case to the Moriyamas when he reached normal retirement age in his forties. He'd studied up on as much as he could, ready to show them how much of an asset he could be. He could still make them money, still be an important public figure. If nothing else, he could do menial tasks so they'd be benefited.

It didn't have to end with Exy, and he'd been hopeful Ichirou would see things his way.

The injury derailed his confidence in those plans, and as much as he'd prepared for that eventual confrontation, he could not ignore the very real threat:

What if Ichirou didn't care? What if he'd decided Neil's purpose had run its course?

It was something Andrew had not been willing to consider, but Neil had.

Neil sighs; he's not afraid of them anymore, whether or not that's a good thing is yet to be seen. Rayah and Blake stare back, not truly comprehending the seriousness. Why should they? They've never been so entrenched in those systems. They haven't seen what Neil has.

That's alright, he'll just have to do what he can and trust they'll take him seriously.

"I need your agreement that you get it, that you'll listen to me," he says, and for dramatic flair, he adds: "This is not a game."

He plays on their fears of movie mafias, and hopes it works. If he's being honest with himself, it's for selfish reasons. Neil would never want this to fall back on Kevin or the remaining Foxes.

"We understand Neil," Rayah states, hand over her heart. As if that means anything to him. "We'll be careful."

And whether or not they actually are, it no longer matters. After all, this is his story. He'll choose what goes into it.

So finally, when the question comes, he's ready.

"What happened?"

--

The x-rays stare back at him.

Neil's honestly not sure why he's being shown them; he knows what they mean, but he didn't need to see the actual fractures to know the end result.

Neil doesn't move as the doctor finishes reviewing them, stepping back to let Neil process. He wonders if this is where the reaction is supposed to go. If this is where most patients would cry or scream or begin asking their delusional questions.

Maybe that's why the doctor looks so shocked when Neil does nothing. Neil leans back in the hospital bed, aching and unable to move his legs, carefully wrapped in casts. He's a little surprised himself. This is where he should be asking when he'll be able to play Exy again, right?

This is where he begins to panic, where he needs the press of a hand on his neck.

Well, he'd still gladly take that, but more so because he wants it, not because he needs it.

Andrew is a comforting, but imposing presence at his side. He hasn't slept or eaten anything since Neil was admitted, refusing to leave Neil alone for even a moment. His calm facade is back for everyone else, but Neil's been tracing the poorly locked away fear in those eyes for hours.

And now, here is confirmation of what they both already realize. Neil can't bear to look over at Andrew in the moment, but he can sense the tension, the tight coils of reality crashing down on the blond's shoulders.

The doctor looks between the both of them, before dropping what Neil supposes is the final bomb into the quiet air. But he knows.

"I know this is not easy to process," the doctor says, slow and unsure, but Neil only blinks at him. "In time, with the right amount of physical therapy, you'll be up and moving again, but it will be an adjustment. Competitive sports simply...won't be an option."

He stops listening after 'time' comes out of his mouth. Time. How funny.

There will potentially be no time for anything.

Neil wonders if he's being rational or pessimistic. He's always known what this moment could mean, and he's dreaded it. He would spend years with nightmares, flinching at black cars or preparing for how he could persuade. Lie. Anything.

Whatever he could do to keep this, to spare both himself and Andrew the pain.

Now, the life he's developed and the life he loves is being threatened, but the dread has decided to spare him. Maybe that's more of a sign of his final moments than anything else.

He doesn't want to run, or wallow, or waste what little time he might have left.

He only wants...

Neil finally looks over to Andrew, tilting his head just so. It hurts him far more to see the look on Andrew's face. It's expectant, waiting to follow Neil's plan of action. Whether it be to skip town or scream or gear up to fight...

Andrew's looking for something, ready for anything, and Neil can't give it to him.

I just want to be with you.

Andrew's eye twitches at the sigh which leaves Neil's lips, fond and gentle. Neil knows better than to touch him right then, but he wants to. He wants to tell Andrew to let go of all that strain, to just whisk him away and they can go on a date, they can rest or rewatch that one movie that freaks Neil out.

But Andrew only looks like he's fighting back a snarl at Neil's passiveness, and Neil won't waste time explaining. It's not hopelessness he feels, but the weird mixture in its place is no more warm or sweet. It's a different kind of pain, mixed with resignation.

It's so opposite of everything Neil has ever been, but he's not willing to let Andrew help him this time. It's not selfish, it's not the martyr card Andrew will accuse him of.

He's simply at the end of the line, and he's going to spend it how he wants.

Neil turns back to the doctor, just one question on his mind. "Can I go home? We can afford in-home care."

The doctor's jaw drops before he collects himself, not really in the mood to argue with star athletes whose careers just came to a halt. That, or he must know all about Neil Josten, and how he's not prone to listening to anyone's advice.

The doctor is silent for a minute too long, outside the limitations of Andrew's patience, and he flinches at the way the blond's hands tighten on the bed rails. Neil's heart skips a beat at the sound of Andrew's knuckles popping, at the redness of his hands.

The doctor takes the hint. "I'll get the paperwork set and get a wheelchair," he says. "A nurse can escort you--"

"No," Andrew says, the first word he's spoken in hours, and it leaves no room for argument. Neil smiles down at his hands, wrapped in white hospital bands and connected to wires. Yes, that's where he'll be selfish. He'll let Andrew watch out for him, for a little while longer.

Though, Neil is old enough now to know Andrew never minded.

The doctor waits for more, but gets nothing. He takes the x-rays with him when he goes, pity sweeping over them for reasons Neil no longer cares about. "Very well."

The door clicks shut, leaving only the sound of Andrew's harsh breathing mixed with the steady beep of vital monitors. Neil really does hate hospitals, but even more so today.

When they're alone, the roles reverse, and it's Andrew who won't look at him. The blond starts to pace the floor of Neil's private room, wearing the linoleum thin and only stopping to glare out the window. Whenever his phone rings, he silences it, before eventually just turning it off altogether.

And through it all, Neil can't help but smile at him. He doesn't think it's the pain meds; he's aware, clear headed.

There's guilt there too, but he knows Andrew won't have it. Neil once again wishes he could spare Andrew this anxiety, this helplessness. But well, at least Neil is here this time, for however long that is.

Andrew walks forward a little too fast after another sharp turn, and nearly trips. Then, he really does growl, fists shaking with the need to lash out at something. It's been awhile since he's seemed so rage filled, but Neil doesn't bother poking him about it. He's happy it's abnormal now, that he's so used to a calm, content Andrew.

Neil's heart squeezes in sadness unrelated to his career. He watches Andrew stop, the anger shaking him but rendering him unable to do much else but tremble. He stays put in the middle of the room, looking everywhere but at Neil

Neil supposes he expected that.

"Andrew," he tries, a beckoning tone that Andrew is so weak to on most days. He means for it to be playful, but it comes out a small whisper, pleading. It gives too much away, and that's when Neil starts to feel the beginning edges of his own stress.

All he knows is he wants Andrew next to him, he wants to feel Andrew's pulse, his warmth. Right now, he thinks, come here. It's childish and unrealistic, he only just found out about the x-rays. Word wouldn't travel that fast, but to think that any moment could be his last and Andrew wouldn't be touching him.

Andrew tenses instantly, and while he doesn't meet Neil's gaze, he's at his side again just as fast, grip tight and unforgiving on Neil's hand. Never babying, but reminding Neil he's real too. They're together, and nothing will change that until they know Neil’s fate for sure.

Still, they need to address it. They've grown past the days of trying to read each other's minds. Neil can imagine how Andrew is feeling, but he'd rather not. He wants to hear it, he wants to hold all of it like he holds Andrew.

However, he's not surprised when Andrew cuts him off when he tries to open his mouth again. The grip on his hand is bruising now, but not commanding. It's desperate, and it cuts Neil even deeper.

Andrew exhales shakily, holding up their hands as if to speak, before placing them down on the stiff sheets once more. Neil's familiar with all sides of Andrew, even the unsure side, the hesitant one. It doesn't make it easier to process.

He wants to tell Andrew it's okay, they can both look out for one another, even when Neil's the one physically broken, but Andrew shakes his head.

Not yet.

"I don't want to talk about it," Andrew finally admits, voice rough and scratchy, and all Neil can do is nod. He's not trying to fight, not here, so he doesn't dare point out that eventually, they'll have to.

He just sighs, and brings Andrew's hand close to his chest so he can feel it beat, full and proud.

"Let's go home."

--

Over the next few days, he gets settled in, their bed modified and moved to better accommodate the nursing supplies Neil needs. Andrew still keeps it at the best vantage point, angled so he can watch the door. Andrew tried to make the case for getting a separate cot to allow Neil as much room as possible, but Neil refused.

He's going to have things remain as normal as possible, soaking up Andrew's presence as much as he can. While he can.

For the first time in years, Andrew's perch changes. Instead of having his back pressed to the wall, with Neil protecting him from the open room, he tucks Neil in instead, becoming his shield in yet another way.

It's a small barrier, it would buy Neil maybe...oh, a second of time, if he even could get away. It makes Neil pout; he likes it when he's the one keeping Andrew safe, but he knows he's in no position to physically do so.

Now, his attentiveness has to come in the form of hard conversations and requests, ones Andrew hasn't even let him bring up yet.

Neil tries more than a few times to comment on it, to lead them down the road of conversation Andrew is avoiding, but Andrew just bundles Neil up. More often than not, Andrew moves Neil's arm too, so it's wrapped around the blond's waist.

It's a deadly arrangement, because it's unbearably cozy. As much as he hates it, the medicine makes Neil sleep a lot, and he's always worried he's going to wake up to more than Andrew's attentive face and steady breathing.

Neil doesn't think Andrew has slept more than a few hours, but Neil can't judge. The dread he'd been relieved of at the hospital now sits like a veil, much worse now that he's home. There's more to cherish here, more to miss.

He doesn't want to be anywhere else, but at the same time he doesn't want it taken away.

The cats take to sleeping on his chest or curled into his side, little protectors themselves. Neil wonders if they have a sixth sense, if they can tell something is wrong. If they can, they're a lot more subtle about it than humans are.

The main example of that is Neil's Foxes. They all call, first in a frenzy and then on a strict face time schedule organized by Andrew. It lets Neil sleep, as much as he wishes he could talk to them forever.

Still, he can only take so much of the tension in the air when they do. His Foxes aren't sheltered, nor are they stupid. They're all too aware of Neil's contract and how it's about to run out. If Neil's being honest, he's shocked he's lasted this long with no word from Ichirou, but none of the Foxes dare to bring it up.

When Kevin calls, his face is haggard and eyes wide, but he barely gets a word out before Andrew threatens to hang up. The panic in Kevin's face dissolves into something sad, pitying, and Neil has to grab Andrew's hand to force it away from the button. His hand shakes in warning, but lets Neil guide him.

“Neil…” Kevin says, swallowing down what Neil guesses to be bile, because Kevin has always reacted so strongly to any indication of things going wrong. Neil nearly feels bad. Things haven’t gone wrong for Kevin in a long time, and he’s glad. As if sensing Neil’s guilt-ridden smile, Kevin blinks at him through the screen, fishing for answers he no longer needs. “What am I supposed to…”

Do?

And they say Neil asks stupid questions. He shakes his head fondly. “Nothing. You won’t have to do anything. You’re Kevin Day.”

You’re strong.

It’s something Neil’s known forever, though it took a while for Kevin to start acting like it. With all his progress, Neil can’t imagine this being a setback.

Kevin’s hanging jaw clamps shut.

It's then Neil really looks at Kevin, sees how he's aged. There's some silver that's starting to show in his hair on the side, a fact they all like to poke fun at, but his features are just as young as they ever were. Deep brown eyes locking away a cautious fire, a constant burn. He knows he and Kevin have never been the type to get all emotional with one another, but when he smiles at Kevin's worry, at the fire wanting to be let loose...

Well, he hopes Kevin can tell how much Neil appreciates him, how they don't have to hash out more painful things. Also, he hopes Kevin picks up on the subtle threat in Neil's eyes, a burn all his own. Kevin Day isn't supposed to be controlled by fear anymore, and that's going to be a rule regardless of if Neil is around to enforce it.

He lets them sit in silence like that until Kevin nods, and utters an impossibly small: “I promise.”

And naturally, Neil understands.

They talk about Kevin's game, about Thea, about some docu series Kevin is in love with. All the while, Neil nestles himself into Andrew's warmth, and forgets anything is wrong.

The rest of his team learns fast. Allison takes to scolding him in the way she always does, but meticulously avoids any mention of the future. Instead, she reminisces on the vacations she made him take with her; Rome, Spain, that one random town in Montana.

She gives him a mix of good and bad memories, the places they went, that one rude waiter she almost fought in the parking lot.

It makes him laugh, and he's glad to be able to exchange jabs with her. It's only at the end where her mask cracks and she lingers a bit too long, telling him goodnight one too many times.

The calls blend together, each with their awkward goodbyes.

In another hour, he’s listening to Katelyn’s excessive cheer, overcompensating for the gloom carrying through the phone lines. She’s holding a picture of the four of them, when they went to Alaska. “Remember when we made Andrew get in that plane to fly above the glacier? He was terrified!”

At least Katelyn knows how to get his mind off things: bring up Andrew.

She talks too much, like she always does, but Neil appreciates her stories about bitchy patients and scandalous coworkers when her vacation tales run out.

“What about Sandra? Is she still being an asshole?” He asks, an invitation to talk about anything other than his injury. It’s not that he’s in the mindset to really care, and he suspects Katelyn doesn’t either. She’s on autopilot, in need of direction. Despite every attempt to veer them away, she’s biting her lip raw during her pauses, scanning Neil up and down.

Concerned. Too much so for his liking, and he throws another topic at her.

“O-oh yeah, you won’t believe what she did yesterday Neil! She—”

And Katelyn latches onto whatever prompt he gives her, so unwilling to upset him. No matter how much it’s eating at her to behave so selfishly, she’ll do it for him without question.

It's also a welcome distraction to the way Aaron keeps glancing over at Andrew on their call, gaze strained and worried. Neil is glad he's not the only one thinking of Andrew's feelings, but not even Aaron's prodding gets Andrew to talk to Neil about the elephant in the room.

“Andrew, have you been eating?” Aaron asks, and gets nothing. That’s not exactly common anymore, and Aaron glares at the silent treatment. “Neil’s not a baby, you can leave him for a few—”

“Sweetie,” Katelyn whispers, placing a hand over Aaron’s. Her eyes echo an acceptance that hasn’t processed for Aaron yet. He looks at her in disbelief, and then back at his brother, almost pleading with him.

The call ends quietly, even with Katelyn doing her best to fill the void.

Neil can’t blame Aaron for his denial. Aaron wants to pretend it’s all normal, that Neil will be here day after day, forever. Funny, how he’s just like his brother in that moment, unwilling to swallow reality.

Neil stares at him before they hang up, willing him to see the logic. Neil wants nothing more than for Andrew to take care of himself.

But things are not normal. As long as Aaron frames things from that lens, Andrew will never listen.

Neil tries though, on his end. He tries and tries, and feels his patience running thin. He doesn't want them to be left with anything unsaid. He wants to hear Andrew's voice, even if it trembles.

"If you don't rest, you won't get any better," Andrew says during one call break, trailing off. Neil can only sigh at the tone, throat too closed up to snark. He wants to ask Andrew if he's talking to himself, because obviously he's being the delusional one this time.

Neil wonders if he should consider this a good thing, that Andrew has let himself have hope.

Neil hides his expression in his pillow, unwilling to let Andrew see an ounce of the realization that he can't fulfill it.

The calls pile up, and Andrew's grip on Neil's waist tightens with each passing comment.

Dan and Matt try to fill Neil in on as much of their lives as they can in order to offer him a distraction. They're horrible at avoiding the topic of Exy, fumbling every time they do, but it makes Neil smile each time. He hasn't let it sink in that he'll never play again, but it doesn't hurt as much as he thought. It's more of a dull ache, a yearning to run free and win, but one he can manage. Exy stopped being his entire world some time ago.

Nicky, the one Neil considers responsible for that realization, is all about Neil's recovery. It's almost daunting, since Neil hadn't exactly let himself think about anything past the end of this week.

But Nicky doesn't let Neil or Andrew escape the conversation, and Neil has to fight back his smile.

“Andrew! Don’t ignore me, I want to know that you’re taking care of our boy,” he nags, scrolling through his laptop too fast for him to be able to actually read anything. Neil imagines the cursor bouncing off the sides of the screen. “I’ve been reading some articles…what treatment plan do they have Neil on? Is the hospital even reputable? I’m getting Aaron in on this or so help me—”

Nicky has come to read Andrew well, in his own way; he asks Andrew a plethora of questions because he knows it gives Andrew something to focus on. A task, a purpose. He asks about every mundane detail, from Neil's medication to his sleep schedule, to physical therapy and onward.

“I say you create a color-coded schedule, so you don’t miss appointments. And buy a real calendar for fuck’s sake! We can start planning things to do when you’re better Neil!”

Andrew tenses at that one, but it doesn’t deter Nicky in the slightest.

He doesn't shy away from the idealistic future, because he must sense it's what Andrew needs. Nicky probably needs it too.

"And Neil, no getting into any fights," Nicky scolds, pointing his finger into his phone's camera thirty minutes later. Neil has barely said a word. "We can't have you backsliding."

Neil huffs, nodding along with him. Andrew has relaxed a little bit where Neil is lying on top of him, but not nearly enough for Neil to be satisfied. That's how Neil knows his boyfriend is more than aware of their situation; Andrew's not delusional, only stubborn.

The world will have to pry Neil out of his cold, dead hands, and that's exactly what Neil's afraid of.

"What if I don't start the fight?" Neil asks, against his better judgement. It's supposed to be lighthearted, but it comes out more serious than he'd planned. Shit.

For the first time in hours, Andrew's gaze slides to him and stays there, peeling him back until there's nothing but rawness. Nicky's laughter dissolves slowly, hanging in the air with Neil's words. Neil tries his best to send Nicky an apologetic look for breaking his efforts, for reminding them all of the other possible option. The probable one.

But, Nicky has a reputation as the strong one.

He huffs, throwing Neil a sad smile, like Neil is so stupid and he loves him for it. Nicky's not there, but Neil tenses, like he's being crushed in one of his hugs anyways.

"It's okay," Nicky says, glancing between the two of them. "Andrew will—Andrew will keep you safe."

Nicky swallows, breathing choppy, but nothing compared to Neil's. Neil's might stop altogether, but Nicky doesn't back down until Neil gives him that same, tired smile.

Neil hears his words from years prior, echo in his head.

Andrew will protect you.

Neil's smile quivers at the edges, and for someone who seldom cries, Neil feels like he's been skirting the edge all day. His face hurts like he's been sobbing, muscles pulled taut and eyes red from how much he's had to rub them. His throat is raw from how many times he's choked on every emotion, good and bad, but no tears come to expel the chemicals of rage and despair. It's like he's bottling those up too, savoring them for as long as possible.

"I always do," Andrew eventually comments, the usual deadpan, and Neil's heart nearly bursts in his chest. He can't stand Andrew sometimes, is what he wants to say, but that's not true at all. Instead, Neil burrows into Andrew's chest, uncaring that Nicky can see, and can't bring himself to say anything else.

Nicky signs off cheerily, saying he'll talk to Neil soon, and Neil's body hiccups in response.

He can't anymore.

He just can't avoid it, he won't.

Neil listens to the sound of Andrew placing his phone on the nightstand to charge, and then hears him shake one of the pill bottles, weighing when it'll be best to give Neil the next dose. The sound pisses him off.

He doesn't want medicine, he doesn't want to sleep.

Even as he thinks it, just resting against the pillow makes his limbs feel heavy, dragged underwater by rocks. It's so easy to give into the lull, to the noise around him blending together into blurbs and nonsense. Funny enough, it's Andrew's touch that snaps him out of it.

It's typically the last push Neil needs before falling back under, but this time when Andrew's thumb lingers over Neil's face, tracing the shell of his ear, Neil can't put it off any longer.

Maybe it's how much he loves that touch, how much it means to him. He's not sure. He just knows he has to get a reaction, he wants Andrew to see him.

Neil moves to shift, and the inevitable happens. Andrew's hand darts out to stop him, already beginning the gentle process of rolling Neil over himself. That's when Neil tenses, staring up at Andrew with defiance in his eyes.

The blond is wearing a tank top, muscles on full display, so Neil catches the exact moment Andrew freezes up, shoulders coiled in preparation for a fight. Neil would smirk in any other situation; he'd never hurt Andrew, but his being never ceases to scream: threat.

In Andrew's case, Neil has the power to bare down on his throat, spilling all his emotions onto the clean sheets.

Andrew's eyes, so tired and dark, spark to life. Yes, Neil thinks. That's what I want, come back to me.

But Andrew's expression is one of warning, one that says 'I don't want to talk about it.'

Neil can't hold off anymore.

Without breaking eye contact, Neil moves again, and winces at the pain that shoots up his body. Andrew clamps down on his waist, stopping him, and then pushes down again for extra reinforcement. The gesture yells at Neil to stop, to not do this, but that just makes Neil squirm more.

"Neil," Andrew warns, breaking their eye contact. Neil can't help but glare; he feels like he's been doing almost nothing but staring at Andrew, taking in the contours of his face and the faded freckles leftover from summer. Any little detail, Neil has latched on. His memory is nothing like Andrew's, but he's sure he'd be able to recount every mole and curve if asked. It might mean nothing if he's six feet under. There will be no one in the afterlife for him to tell, to remind, but he's Neil Josten. He's stubborn as all hell, and won't let himself forget even something as minor as the crooked line of Andrew's nose.

Yet, Andrew won't look at him, won't address the hurt bubbling in his chest, just as strong as Neil's. That's not what they do anymore; they've always shared, and this will not be the exception.

Neil pushes Andrew's hands away and moves, but okay...he's not the smartest. That time hurts, and Neil's wince turns into a full-on groan.

But it's fine, he thinks, not laughing at the joke. It's fine, because it's the last straw.

Andrew rips the excess blankets off the bed, kneeling onto the mattress until he's boxing Neil in, but it's less an intimidation tactic than a request. Stay, stay right there. When he speaks, it's a horrible mix of anger and desperation, a calmness cracked clean in half. "Stop trying to move, and stop fucking staring at me," Andrew says, and Neil shakes his head.

"There's no point--" Neil tries, willing Andrew to understand what he's talking about. But oh, from the way the blond flinches, Neil knows he does. "I'm going to try to fight however I can, but—"

A hand claps over his mouth, and Andrew's capacity for gentleness is fraying. Neil knows it's his fault, but he doesn't mind. He wants Andrew to show him whatever he's feeling, even if they both hate it. Andrew looks down at him, and Neil catches the slip up. The way Andrew's gaze traces over the top of Neil's nose, the shape of his brows. Taking everything in, just to make sure his perfect memory got nothing wrong.

Realizing this, Andrew scowls, and buries his face in Neil's neck to stop the urge.

Andrew is careful in his panic regardless, maneuvering so he's not pressing down on Neil too hard. His legs are angled away but unwilling to release Neil completely for fear of him hurting himself more. Neil sighs, relaxing his muscles in a show of surrender.

Okay. He won't move anymore.

"Hey..." Neil whispers into the quiet Andrew leaves in the wake of his smothered rage, raising his hand slowly to card through the blond's hair. It's textured and unkempt, but Neil missed the feel of it. He's no stranger to comforting Andrew, but the blond hasn't let him do as much in the last few days.

Neil presses down on Andrew's neck when his panting starts to dissipate, and counts the cars that pass outside on the street below.

"I can't stand that look on your face," Andrew states eventually, and he turns his head to the side so his voice is clear. Nothing unheard. "Like you're giving up. Like you're trying to take me in for the last time."

Like it's thank you, goodbye.

Andrew would know that look well, Neil supposes.

Neil cannot accept it. The hurt burns through his vocal cords at the vulnerability, apparent even through Andrew's neutral tone; he never wants Andrew to feel like that, but he also wants Andrew to be alive. Prosperous. "You're the one always championing rationality. You know things aren't fair, but now what?" Neil whispers, and his fingers halt in their ministrations, cramping up from the weight of it all. He finally chokes on a sob. "Just because it's me? You can't accept it?"

Andrew surges up, unable to avoid it any longer. His hands come up around Neil's face, digging into old scars. Those problems feel so old now.

"Nothing is going to happen to you," Andrew spits out, and Neil's skull vibrates from the force of the grip.

"You can't promise that anymore," Neil says, but he can't shake his head when Andrew is holding him so tight. Andrew scowls down at him, and a loud noise from outside makes them both jump. Neil's panic filters in, rushed like he's on a countdown all over again. "They're going to come. They're going to take me away."

He bites back adding: 'and you're going to let them.'

He knows that's unrealistic to ask and stupid to assume, but Andrew must hear the insinuation anyways.

There's a long pause, broken up only by Andrew's humorless laugh. It sends shivers down Neil's spine. Dark, lifeless. Neil doesn't miss that sound. He knows what Andrew's real laugh is like.

"Are they?" Andrew asks, tone razor sharp. Despite this, his grip lessens, thumb gently swiping over the nearest burn mark. "Neil, you must not know me as well as I thought."

It's selfish, Neil knows that much. It's selfish to ask Andrew to let him be the sacrificial lamb again. It's not how they do things, it's not what Neil promised. But he doesn't want a world without Andrew, even if he's no longer in it with him.

"Andrew..." He tries, but it's fruitless. Andrew rolls over and adjusts Neil carefully, pulling him up so as to not cause anymore of the mind-numbing pain from earlier. Neil fits so easily against him, and he doesn't fight it this time.

He's so tired of fighting, if it can be called that. In the end it's just the two of them doing what they always do: stubbornly holding onto one another. It's mutual, wanted, and Neil was shortsighted to think Andrew ever saw this gesture as detrimental.

At a certain point...he guesses it's just love.

And that makes him hold on even tighter.

"You're not going anywhere," Andrew reminds, and pries Neil's fingers off his shirt one by one until he can lace their hands together. Neil hadn't realized he'd been physically echoing his wants, stretching out the fabric til it's warped. "Stop it."

Neil laughs at the familiarity of it. It's breathy, and it soon gets swallowed up by the sounds of the covers as he burrows in closer.

This is just how it'll be.

Neil won't convince Andrew to accept it, but that's alright. He'll just have to do what he can when his fate arrives at their door. If he had it his way though, he'd sit like this forever, with Andrew so close and real.

A few more calls pass after Neil naps, and it's Renee who finally stands up to Andrew in her own way. He should've seen that coming. No one else would be quite as acquainted with darkness, with the cruelty of the world.

She's finishing up telling Neil about the book she's been reading, and her goodbye trails off. "Just..." She whispers, smiling in the same old way. Yet, her next words are nothing like the pragmatic Renee he's come to appreciate. He guesses everyone has their limits. "Don't go, Neil."

Neil's face falls, and he says nothing. There's nothing to say, and she nods. Neil doesn't have time to think of anything else though, because Andrew doesn't allow the call to continue.

Stiffly, he leans forward to disconnect the phone. "Goodbye Renee."

The dismissal is firm, but Renee's smile remains until the very last moment.

Neil is grateful, knowing someone will be around who gets it.

Andrew says nothing, busying himself with Neil's blankets, and Neil prods at him until he stops. "You have to forgive her."

"I don't have to do anything," Andrew reminds, fluffing Neil's pillow. Or...more like punching it. Neil sincerely hopes they don't spar anytime in the near future. "She shouldn't have said that."

"She said it because she knew she'd be the only one who could," Neil says, and Andrew's silence is telling.

Because you'll need her.

Renee is too important for Andrew to cut off long term, even if he hates that she can see what he refuses to. She'll be there for him, no matter what.

Thinking he'll get no reply for all his trouble, Neil leans back onto the newly fluffed pillow and startles when Andrew speaks again.

The blond's hand slides over his waist, fitting Neil against him snugly before rolling onto his back again. He's never not watching the door.

"Tell me something," Andrew starts.

"Always."

Andrew rolls his eyes at the sentiment, but meets Neil's gaze. Neil wrinkles his nose in the way that usually makes Andrew kiss him, but no such luck. Ah, so it won't be a fun question.

Andrew searches for a long time, the way he does to make sure Neil won't lie.

Right now, Neil wouldn't dream of it.

"Why now?" Andrew asks, and holds up his finger at Neil's confusion. "My scared little rabbit, always afraid of being caught by the wolf. Death is staring you down, but when you saw those x-rays, there was no panic."

Neil slumps a little more, turning just enough to avoid being scolded; he doesn't need the reminder, he feels the emotions fly back into him. In the moment, he'd simply felt resignation. He recalled his plans of course, as clipped and disorganized as they were given what happened. Ways he can appeal to Ichirou, ways he can prove his worth that don't involve his game.

There was no immediate panic sure, because there's only so many ways this can go.

But there was fear.

He doesn't question why for very long, since the answer is lying right next to him, breath held and waiting.

Slowly, Neil rests his hand over Andrew's heart, and feels the pace pick up almost instantly. Alive, pumping, never stopping. Andrew has been a constant for so many years, and he's a survivor, just like Neil. He has so much to offer, so much Neil appreciates and admires about him. He thinks of every touch and kiss, all the flicks of Andrew's fingers and deliberate presses into his skin.

Neil's hand curls into a fist, and he's fixated even now, right where his skin meets Andrew's. "I'm not scared of dying anymore, about someone chopping me up and ending all my potential."

He'd reached his potential. He'd helped score the winning goal at the Olympics, he was in the hall of fame. He's won countless championships.

"Andrew, I'm just terrified of leaving you here," Neil says with a great amount of strain, face contorting at the thought. An ugly, overprotective snarl, but not nearly as threatening as usual. It dissolves soon into something far more pitiful and packed with yearning. "Of not being with you."

"Stop," Andrew says again, more urgent this time. Neil can't even point out how predictable he's becoming, how his threats mean nothing these days. Andrew is aware, he just can't help it. It's the only way he can fight those thoughts of Neil's, and it's still not enough. Andrew's arms tremble as they wrap around Neil, a fortress. He's in a cocoon, safe from anything the world can throw at him. Andrew's rage is palpable, and once again, there's nothing to take out his helplessness on. So he repeats and repeats: "Just stop."

And there's that unspoken promise Neil can't refute, no matter how many things are trying to prove it otherwise.

"Nothing could ever take you away from me."

And with that ringing in his head, Neil falls under.

[yelenasdog]

rockstar (peter parker x gn reader)

genre: fluff with a lil angst 

summary: peter always comes to the reader when he’s hurt, but reader wonders if it could mean something more.

words: 1465 ( more or less LMAO)

warnings: light cursing, peter being hurt, some kissing? idk if that counts sorry lol.

a/n: hello! so this is inspired by the song Lover of Mine by 5 Seconds of Summer so i strongly reccomend listening to it by reading! if u prefer to read it on wattpad from my peter parker imagines book, click here !

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knock knock!

I was abrubtly woken from my peaceful sleep by the loud sounds coming from my window.

"What the hell," I muttered out as I groggily checked the current time. 3:47 am. I reluctantly made my way over, having a feeling it was a certain webslinger. I peeled open the entrance to see Peter, still in his spidey suit, without the mask may I add. I grabbed onto his broad shoulders, pulling him through the opening, almost slipping on the hard floor due to my fuzzy socks.

"Pete, what are you doing, people could see you without the mask." I heard his feet as he quietly padded over to sit on my soft comforter with an obvious limp.

I went over to my lamp and switched it on, a warm glow being strewn across the room by it. As Peter sat on my bed, I turned to meet him, gasping at what had been brought to my attention by the light. I rushed over to the boy, pressing the spider in the center of his suit, causing it to slide off and pool at his feet.

Peter grimaced as I soflty dragged my fingers against his bruised and battered skin from where I sat on the floor next to my bed.

"What happened to you, Pete?" I spoke, looking up at him, my facial expression laced with concern.

"Well," he began as he tried to sit up, groaning in the process, "just got hit a little harder than usual, that's all. It's no biggie, really."

I sighed, placing a tender hand on his from where I sat on the floor in a crouching position. I stood up, my hand staying in the same position.

"It kinda looks like a biggie, bud." One of my hands moved to run itself through his messy brown locks as I looked him up and down once more, scanning for any underlying injuries I might have missed at first look.

He flashed me a tired smile which I returned.

"I'm gonna go grab some stuff to patch you up, k?" This time I gave him a small smile, and he was the one who returned it gratefully.

"Thank you y/n." I squeezed his now bare hand, standing and turning to go.

"It's no problem, Pete, honestly." 

As I tried to leave, he lightly tugged me back by my wrist, catching me by surpise. My breath caught in my throat at the action.

"Really, y/n, I don't know what I would do without you."

I smiled at him once more, "Same to you, BugBoy"

He released my hand, allowing me to go get his supplies. As I gathered what I needed from the cabinet, my head was clouded with thoughts of the boy. The same thoughts that had been clouding my head since the day I had met him.

We had first met at midtown through decathlon, and grew quite close. I was entranced by the boy and everything about him, from his starwars obsession to the way he would rant about different scientific theories. It made my heart swell for reasons I would like to think I couldn't understand. He would confine in me with any problems he was going through, such as Uncle Ben passing, or even some of his biggest secrets, Spider-Man being one of them.

He hadn't meant for me to find out. Not in the way I did, at least.

It had been after a long day at school, when Ned had gone to hang out with Peter and build the lego deathstar, and I tagged along to surprise him, as I had been gone on a trip for quite some time and wanted to see him. Turns out I was the one in for a surprise, because I found out peter was Spider-Man that same day when he walked in on the ceiling through his window. It was a bit of a shock to say the least.

My feelings had only grown for the boy since that point, which also left me with uncalled for emotions that I had a difficult time dealing with. Especially when Peter would do this every time he would get hurt. This whole routine of coming to me at ungodly hours of the night, and me patching him up every time without question. It was sad to say the least. 

The way my heart would ache for the boy in red, so much so that I would sacrifice so much for his happiness, whatever form that would take. 

I tried to deny the feelings that would arise when I was around him, and God, was it difficult. I looked myself in the mirror, taking a deep breath. I walked back out to where Peter was waiting for me, reaching out and placing all the supplies on my mahogony side table.

"I know you hate hearing this, but we might have to do stitches, Pete."

He groaned, looking up to my poster covered ceiling as if one of the singers on the paper would somehow deny the fact he needed the medical attention.

He looked back at me, giving me puppy dog eyes.

"Come on, Rockstar? Really?"

My heart swelled at the nickname he had gifted me after finding out about my love for music, one of the many things we bonded over. I was tempted to give in, but quickly snapped out of it.

"Nice try, Peter, but this is for your own good, so lets just get it over with, yeah?"

His head dropped and he nodded, looking down to his feet.

"Head up, bub, I need to be able to see what I'm doing and get this done before it starts to scab." I could have sworn Peter's pupils dialated and he seemed a little off at the pet name, but yet again, it was nearly 4 am, so I very well could have been imagining things, and probably was.

As I started to run the needle through the forming scar, he let out a whimper, gripping my shoulder in pain as his eyes screwed shut. He did this often, grabbing me “as hard as he could” whenever he was hurting. 

It was an idea I had introduced to him to deal with any especially bad injuries, our little way of dealing with the pain. I knew it might cause me some minor damage, as he would never hurt me. I assured Peter every time that I felt okay, but something nagged at me telling me he felt guilty, and that he wasn't gripping as hard as he could.

As I went through what I imagined was an especially painful part, he cursed loudly under his breath.

"Fuck!"

I stopped what I was doing momentarily to check on him after the short outburst, unusual for his kind and calm demeanor.

"Are you okay, Peter?"

He moved his large hands to tightly grip his hair, moving down to his neck, back and forth.

"No, y/n! I'm not okay. I'm hurting, I'm hurting so bad, y/n/n" His volume increased and decreased again, silent tears falling down his face.

I had dropped the needle that I had been using, shocked by his volume. I picked it back up again, resuming my task with conceringly shaky hands.

"I can try to be softer if it would help, Pete." My voice was gentle as I spoke, in a feeble attempt to not upset him further. 

He looked at me and to his shoes as he began to talk, his voice low I could barely hear him.

"No, y/n, it's not you, you're doing amazing, it's just," he didn't finish his sentence, he rather just trailed off.

I blew out a deep breath, my eyes never leaving the work in front of me.

"What is it, Peter?"

I tied the knot on the stiches, cutting the thread and disposing of the needle in the small biohazard waste kit froom the first aid box.

I stood up directly in front of him to where I was slightly higher up than him. I reached a hand forward, wiping away a stray tear. He took my wrists in his hands, taking me off guard.

"Actually, y/n, I lied." I tensed, concerned about what he was going to say.

"It is you. It's always been you."

Confusion consumed me as I shook my head, and I wondered if it was just my tired state that had caused the emotions.

"Peter, what do you mean you're not making any sens-"

Before I could finish my sentence, he leaned forward encapsulating our lips in a sweet and long awaited kiss. He let go of my wrists, moving his own hands, one to rest around my waist protectivley, the other on the back of my neck under my hair. I moved one of mine to lazily drape over his left shoulder, the other playing with the curls on the nape of his neck. The kiss lasted a long while, but not long enough.

Our hands went to the sides of each others faces when we parted, and his own strong hands started running small circles on my jaw. As we struggled to catch our breaths, he began to speak, the boyish smile I loved so much covering his face.

"My feelings for you are there, Y/n, always have been, and they always will be. I want you to take all of me, Rockstar."

I giggled at the wording of his statement, appreciating it nonetheless. He pressed our foreheads together, a mutal content taking over us.

"Although that was extremely cheesy, I’ll allow it this once. You have no idea how long I've wanted you to say that, BugBoy."

·。·。·。·。·。·。·。·。·。·。·。·。·

idk how i feel about this tbh, kinda love it kinda hate it. stay funky! xx hj

[onlylaboum]

ok long rant ahead, you can scroll past this or get frustrated with me i guess

(gif credit)

kinda really hope that if laboum has a new comeback this year, it’ll be organized and received well, especially by new audiences because damnit they deserve it. i know that a lot of people prefer LABOUM’s older upbeat / bubbly past songs and i do like those more too, but i doubt that the change in genre is the reason the group hasn’t gained success. new people did discover them through Between Us and Firework, and some members did want to try more mature songs for a while so i’m really happy they got to try out something new and show their versatility.

i think LABOUM’s status, which after all these years is still a ‘nugu group‘ sadly, is in part because of fans. their domestic fandom consists for a large part of (rather creepy tbh) men who are or were in the military (bc the group performed so much for soldiers and had taken on the role of this kind of group), and i cannot imagine that type of fanbase being a positive and creative environment that stimulates streaming and promoting the group. (this is also why i have trouble sharing fancams or performance pictures; a lot are from questionable fanaccounts. :/ )

then there’s the intl. fandom which is there ofc, but it’s quite small and there are few translators and content creators. lack of translations makes it harder to actually keep up to date with what they’re doing, and if there are few twitter fancams, gif makers, reviewers, reaction videos, etc., not many new people will be introduced to them. maybe i’m somewhat projecting my own failure to contribute to the fandom onto the rest of it, but i do really notice a lack of posts in the tags on tumblr (e.g. sometimes it’s one post per _ amount of days) and on twitter i can barely find a handful of accounts dedicated to the group too.

moreover, however, i don’t think the blame can be put on consumers alone as it is quite ridiculous that they need to be relied upon so much for translations and promotion. i’ve talked with other friends about this before and we really have the feeling that Global H put more budget into the outfits nowadays than promotion and the production value of their MVs. it’s a shame!!! their custom outfits from the past were in fact what made them stand out, and so did their unique concepts and well edited videos. i am very well aware that their company does not possess as much budget as other labels, but the distribution of it is off. next to that, the girls are treated like shit? they’re put on diets (remember also that shit trick the company pulled on them when they were on Weekly Idol and were promised food and got crackers as prize?), and for years they had phone / SNS use restrictions as if they were still a rookie group (and i find it too controlling regardless). it’s SO fucking stupid of the company, because they 1. are mistreating their own idols and 2. not making use of the opportunity of social media as they could. active social media use by idols and providing updates or fun videos etc. is one of the things that can make a group more engaging and interesting to become a fan of.

sorry, this has been a long rant. i’m just so fed up with the status of the group, the interview from a while ago in which Solbin stated she felt they still hadn’t made it and she even considered getting a side job, and how i haven’t done much on this blog during the last couple of comebacks. i still often consider adding an mods but the last time i did that for a kpop blog, i soon realized that keeping in contact with other mods almost daily took only more effort and time rather than that it was a relief. and i just don’t have such time right now, or at least not the space for it in my head now i’m trying to finish my Master thesis with a lot of struggle. if they do make a comeback while i’m still working on my thesis (until early july at least), i’ll at least try to share whatever i can. i will also make a list of good ways to promote their stuff and maybe i and followers can do such things together by then (e.g. an mv streaming party)? so yeah. ok rant is over. please do let me know your thoughts, just pls be nice ^^;;

[unicamendes]

Wandering Romance

Tom Holland, best friend!Shawn x Reader!

A/N: idk just want to put my emotions in a story. I suck sorry. p.s. tell me what to do with my life!! I give u permission! jk plz don’t I already hate my life. Nuff said enjoy! (::

Warnings: angst, heartbroken reader, being a good ass friend, jealous vibes, and language ¿??? Tom being a clueless fuck and asshole :(:

“Uh, wow! Congratulations...,” you felt your eyes get watery and your throat throbbing because all you wanted to do is cry, but you couldn’t, not in front of him, not wanting to ruin his happiness. He had asked you to come over at his place, said he had amazing news and sure as hell it was.

“I’m getting married! I finally proposed to Sarah!”

His voice echoed through your head and pretty sure you felt your heart break into millions of pieces. How are you going to pretend everything is okay while your best friend, the love of your life, is getting married?

“Y/N! Aren’t you excited?” Tom nudge your shoulder, breaking away from your thoughts.

“Y-Yeah. Once again congratulations! I’m so happy for you!” You beamed, knowing you were just faking it.

“You don’t know how much this means to me..to have your approval on such a huge thing.” He chuckle softly.

“Of course! I’m your best friend and I’ll will always be there for you no matter what.” You looked over at Tom, observing him, he was so blissful, this was a different Tom, this is fiancé Tom. You can’t take that away from him. You just can’t.

“Anyway, I would stay, but I got work tomorrow morning. I’ll just see you around.” You quickly got up, the tears were now visible to see. You brushed them off before Tom got the chance to see your state of being.

“Aww, love, I really wanted you to stay so we can celebrate. How about tomorrow after work?” He suggested.

You took a deep breath, clearing your throat. “Uh, can’t, get out late.”

Pretty little liar.

——

The past few weeks have been hell and back. Everyone was giving you shit at work and with the whole Tom getting married being plastered in every tv screen, magazine, and social media. You never seem to get a break from it. You didn’t care about work or Tom getting married. Why? It’s life, sometimes we don’t get what we want. It is what it is. That’s until you get a text from a special someone, that can just lure you back into your feelings that you have been trying to push away.

Tom 🖤

come to the bar. drinks on me. (: x

You have been staring at your phone, reading over the text message for the tenth time, debating to text back a ‘okay sure’ or ‘no, thanks, work tomorrow (:’ fiddling your thumbs on the keyboard, to send the text you agreed on, but found Tom double texted you now.

Tom 🖤

you know you have your read receipts on right? if you don’t come I’ll come get you. not taking a no for an answer!

Shit.

Deleting the previous text and sending a new text.

haha, got me there. send me the address and be there in 10 minutes (:

You let out a groan at your dumbass for forgetting that you had read receipts on, getting up from your couch and heading over to your bedroom to change out of your pajamas. This is a bad idea, you will probably see Sarah with her friends, you can just imagine her flaunting her engagement ring whilst her friends gushed and yelled in excitement.

Fuck, you didn’t really think of that one did you? Maybe you should invite someone to go with you, so that you won’t feel left out.

Heading back to the living room where you left your phone, quickly sending a text. Now you wait while you’re getting ready.

——

“So, you’re telling me you only invited me because you didn’t want to face Tom and Sarah alone?” He teased, his eyebrow quirked up.

You rolled your eyes, hushing him up as you guys were getting closer to Tom and Harrison.

“You’re such an asshole.” You whispered only for him to hear you. He laughed, engulfing you into a side hug.

“You love me though.” He kissed your head. You pushed him lightly away from you, breaking the hug. Didn’t want Tom to think your off the market, that’s if he’s even looking at you, of course he’s not he’s getting married for gods sakes. He doesn’t look at you the way he looks at Sarah, with such adoration and love.

Finally catching up to Tom and Harrison who were standing near the bar, ordering some more drinks. Harrison was the first one to take notice of your presence.

“Y/N!” He put the drinks of shots on the marble table. “Didn’t think you’d actually come! How are you?”

Tom snap his head up to the sound of your name, looking over at you. He didn’t like that you brought a guy with you.

“I’m good, didn’t think I’d actually show up too.” You giggled. “How are you?”

“Pretty fucking buzzed, but I’m alright. You must take a shot with us.” He took a hold of your hand guiding you to the rest of the group. You got a hold of your friend’s hand to tag along.

“Look who decided to come!” Harrison yelled out. The group hollered with ‘ay!’ and ‘hello’s’. Harrison patted your shoulder before returning back to the bar.

“Y/N! You’re here! We missed you!” Zendaya took you in for a hug. She looked at the man behind you. “Shawn Mendes. You know him?” She was amused.

“Uh, yeah. The perks of having friends who are movies stars.” You smirked. Zendaya took a look at the two of you, seeing that you were holding hands. She gave you a nod of approval confused as to why she needed to nod at you, then it hits you, you were still holding Shawn’s hand. You let go of his hand quickly. Shawn furrowed his eyebrows at the sudden action.

“Hi, nice to meet you. Y/N has told me a lot about you.” He extended his hand for her to shake, but only met with a hug. He awkwardly chuckled, being let go and for her to admire him more.

“Didn’t know Y/N will bring a famous singer. How long have you guys known each other?” She questioned.

“Since we were 17.” They both said in unison.

“So, three years.” She assumed. “Anyway, welcome Shawn, now let’s say hello to the rest of the group.”

“Z, where’s Tom, I think I should at least say hi to him.”

“Last time I checked he was with Harrison. Ask him.” She shrugged. “Shawn, do you drink?” You heard Zendaya ask, as you were leaving to look for Tom. You roamed around the place, to finally catch a glimpse of Tom..and Sarah.

Shit. Fuck. You can do this. Smile and greet.

Walking over to Tom and Sarah, with a smile on your face. Tom noticed you and took a hold of Sarah’s face, kissing her. The smile on your face disappeared only to feel the ache in your heart, your eyes watery, tears threatened to spill.

What the fuck? It’s like he knows how to ruin every mood of yours. Especially your fake ones.

You took a step back, only to bump into someone. You turned around only to be met with Shawn’s eyes.

“I can’t be here. Can we take a walk, please?” Your voice breaking. Shawn understood what was going on, he saw everything. He thought Tom was being an asshole. He interlock your hands with his, guiding you outside.

“Can’t believe I decided to come. I came here to be supportive and he does that shit in front of me. It’s like he knows that I have feelings for him. Ugh, he’s such a fucking asshole. I hate him!” You rant to Shawn, anger filled your bloodstream.

“I know, hun, wanna walk it and talk it out now?”

“Yes.” You intertwined your arm with his.

-

It has been 20 minutes since you have walked around the block not too far away from the bar. Shawn and you have been talking about what happened inside. You needed to let everything out or else you’d end up doing something irrational.

“Why do you love him? I don’t really understand that.” Shawn interrupted your rant. You paused for a second, licking your lips, thinking for a bit.

“Nobody has ever asked me that.” You admitted, squinting your eyes. “Hmm, that’s something new.”

“Do you love him? Or do you just like the idea of being in love?” Shawn continued, you looked at him in disbelief.

“What?”

“Y/N, after knowing you for three years-almost four years, all those years were just you talking about Tom, but you never explained why you love him or when you started to love him. So, tell me why do you love him?” He let go of your arm, now looking at you clearly.

“I..I don’t know, maybe I just love him. I can’t really explain, but all I know is that it hurts me to see him with her, it has been two years since they have been dating and it still hurts like a fresh cut, it fucking hurts because he would never love me the way I love him. Now he’s getting fucking married and I have lost my chances with him! Not that I had any, gosh I had hope for us, but that’s gone..and it feels like I lost him!” You cried out, finally letting the emotions out from all the pretending and fake smiles. Tears stained your cheeks, nose red, eyes getting red and puffy.

Fuck.

Shawn’s heart was breaking, he hates seeing you like this, since he was the only one who knew about your love for Tom. He knew everything, you trusted him more than your group of friends.

“I wanna go back home.” You sniffled. “Shawn, please take me back home.” You emphasized, hoping Shawn gets what your hinting on.

“As in, back to Toronto?”

Bingo.

You hiccup, “Yes.”

[eirian-houpe]

The Library Beneath the Clock Tower - Chapter 11

Fandom: Once Upon a Time (TV)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Belle/Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold, Belle/Gaston (Once Upon a Time)

Characters: Belle (Once Upon a Time), Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold, Red Riding Hood | Ruby, Widow Lucas | Granny, Grumpy | Leroy, Maurice | Moe French, Evil Queen | Regina Mills, Merida (Once Upon a Time), Jiminy Cricket | Archie Hopper, Gaston (Once Upon a Time), Le Fou

Additional Tags: Bookshop On the Corner, slightly AU, Cursed Storybrooke (Once Upon a Time), Alternate Universe - In Storybrooke | Cursed (Once Upon a Time), Eventual Smut

Summary: Storybrooke has no library, and neither does Belle, not since the library where she worked in Boston discovered her past as an inpatient at a mental hospital. Taking her future into her own hands, Belle travels to Storybrooke where her intention is to open up the town library, but all does not go according to her plan. Obstacles and false starts, and diversion along very wrong pathways interrupt her journey toward fulfilling her dream, as well as taking her rightful place and becoming a part of the Storybrooke community.

Read on AO3

[Chapter 1]  [Chapter 2]  [Chapter 3]  [Chapter 4]  [Chapter 5]  [Chapter 6]  [Chapter 7]  [Chapter 8]  [Chapter 9]  [Chapter 10]

Chapter 11 - Accidental Meeting

Her scream could only last but so long, and as short on breath as she had been in the first place, with the surprise of the deer first, and then the impending collision, it wasn’t that long of a time until silence descended. A strange silence, an eerie silence and dark, with hardly a hint of light to sneak beneath her tightly shut eyelids.  What was this…? Was she dead, and this some kind of bizarre afterlife experience?

She felt no pain, could hear nothing, nor truly see anything but the occasional imagined flash of light beneath her eyelids. She often liked to fancy they were the reflection of her synapses firing, except now she had no activity in her brain whatsoever that wasn’t, ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod!

Even before she opened her eyes, she reached out again for the door.  This time her hand almost immediately found the handle and pulled, opening the door, and after clumsily releasing the seat belt, she all but fell out of the little van, stumbled to the side of the road, and vomited what remained of the dinner she had enjoyed at Granny’s just before leaving.  She stumbled back to the car, pulled the bottle of water out of the cup holder, and swilled out the sour taste from her mouth, before taking a proper drink, her hand shaking so badly that she almost spilled water all down her front. She leaned down again then, fishing around in the footwell of the passenger side to try and find her phone; a pointless exercise, since when she did, she discovered she had no signal.

She was just straightening up, and trying to avoid hitting her head on the door frame, when the sound of a much larger door slamming closed, followed by the scuff of feet reached her, shortly followed by a man’s angry voice.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, woman!”

She found herself confronted by an overweight, ruddy faced man with dark hair that was swept back off his face, who was wearing a rather flamboyant, almost fluorescently bright, reddish orange quilted vest, whose sleeves, from what looked like a well worn sweatshirt - so well worn that they had completely lost their shape - flapped at her as he jabbed his finger almost in her face.  He was so overwhelming as to be intimidating, and in her already fragile emotional state, she backed away, finding herself closer to tears.

“There… it was…” she stammered, her voice a hoarse whisper, “A deer.  There was a deer.”

“Oh,” he half turned away as he muttered, “Fuck’s sake,” then turned back to continue his rant, “Fancy that… a deer coming out of the woods onto the road!  Never heard of that before! Have you any idea what it takes to stop one of these big rigs!  Any at all…?”

“No, I--” “No, of course not,” he continued with his rant.  “You could have killed us all stopping in the middle of the road like that, just sitting there…”

Belle barely heard the sound of the truck’s door opening and closing again, and evidently, through the noise of his angry diatribe, neither did the man that was not even letting her get a word in edgewise.

“...as if you’re out for a fucking Sunday picnic.  You--!”

“Now, Karrl,” a new voice, deep and strong, she would almost describe it as warm, cut across the ranting man, “I’m sure there’s little need to speak to the lady in that way,”  He gave Belle a bit of a nod, as his hand came down onto Karrl’s shoulder. “You were magnificent there. You saved all of us, and the cargo is none the worse for wear.”

He gestured back towards the still open door to the truck, and Belle followed the direction of the gesture to see the spacious, high tech cab, with its glowing lights, and the curtained off area in the rear.

“Control want to speak with you,” the newcomer told Karrl. “They need your incident statement, before we can straighten the truck out.”

“Terrific,” Karrl muttered as he turned away and began to stalk toward the truck.  “Just great! Now we’re in trouble for sure - nearly crashing like this. There will be investigations, and police, and…”

His voice faded off as he climbed up into the truck, and Belle brought her attention back to the other man in front of her.  He was muscular, and tall. His face was handsome beneath a swath of dark hair, with blue eyes that shone, almost sparkled as he leaned toward Belle and said, as if confidentially, “Please, forgive Karrl.  He’s a bit of a fool when it comes to situations like this, not to mention speaking with the fairer sex.”

Belle couldn’t help but shiver, though whether with the chill in the air, or because of the deep, smooth tones of his voice, kindly and concerned, she wasn’t sure and it seemed the other man noticed, because he suddenly slipped off the thick, plaid, woolen jacket he wore, and draped it over her shoulders.

“Where are my manners?” he said by way of an apology.  “You’re shivering with cold. Are you all right?” Then as if he had just remembered, added, “My name is Hunter, Hunter Guest.”  He offered her a polite handshake.

“Belle,” she said and slipped her hand into his, “Marchland,” she added.  Then felt herself momentarily warmer as a blush covered her face when he closed his other hand over hers. “I’m fine,” she tried to tell him, blue eyes meeting blue. “Just a little shaken, that’s all.”

“No,” he crooned softly. “You’re perished.”  He gestured to the cab and added, “Come up, we’ll have some tea.  Help to warm you.”

“But… your friend.”

“Ah, don’t worry about Karrl,” Hunter said. “He’s harmless.”  He leaned closer again, to whisper, “Just a little scared.”

Belle followed him, though she had little choice really, given that he kept hold of her hand, to the truck, and then accepted his help to climb the steps to the warmth of the cab.  He followed her close behind, and drew aside the curtain, so that she could perch on the edge of the sleeping space, while he rummaged in a bag to draw out a large thermos, from which he poured steaming hot tea.

“Here,” he said and handed her the cup, closing his hands around hers until she wasn’t going to spill the hot liquid all over herself.  Part of her was grateful for that, but as she sipped the tea, the weight of all that had happened swept over her, and she couldn’t stop the tears from falling.

She saw Karrl roll his eyes, but Hunter turned a cold stare his way, and then moved to perch beside her on the narrow cot, and rubbed her back with his large hand, murmuring soothing nothings until she began to calm;  at least she calmed until the blue and red lights could be seen coming closer and closer, eventually heralding the arrival of the Sheriff, and the EMTs.

While the EMTs checked Belle over, Sheriff Humbert spoke with Hunter and Karrl, no doubt taking their statements and their particulars, and once the EMTs were finished with Belle, he came to her and with an almost apologetic smile, asked for her licence and registration.

They walked together back to her van so that she could retrieve them both, and she sat dejectedly, sideways, with her legs hanging out into the cold of the night as he took them to run them through his computer system.  This was the last thing she needed. If Mayor Mills got hold of this, it would not make it any easier to convince the mayor that she was the right woman for the job of librarian.

While such negative thoughts were swirling in her mind, the Sheriff returned, and handing back her documents, said, almost as if he felt awkward asking, “I have to ask, Ms. Marchland, have you had anything to drink this evening?”

“What?” Belle stammered, and then quickly, “No!  Nothing alcoholic anyway.”

“Well,” the sheriff gave her a definitely apologetic look, and held out the breathalyzer.  “Procedure, you understand.”

Belle blushed scarlet, and couldn’t help but glance over to the truck once more, before looking at the Sheriff.

“But I’ve not been drinking,” she said.

“And I believe you,” Sheriff Humbert assured her, “but for the record, the report…”

Belle sighed, fresh tears welling in her eyes.  “All right,” she whispered, and mortified, allowed the sheriff to administer the test to prove what she had told him was the truth.

“There, see,” he said as the numbers came back showing zero alcohol in her breath. “Now, let’s get your van moved off the road, and then we’ll get you home.”

“What?” Belle stiffened and shook her head, “Thank you, Sheriff, but that won’t be necessary.  I have to continue on my way.”

“I’m sorry,” he said.  “There’s no chance of that.”

“But I have to get to Boston!”

She hadn’t realised she’d raised her voice quite so much until she saw the sheriff stiffen, and from the corner of her eye, noticed Hunter moving closer to the two of them.

“I’m sorry,” the sheriff said again, “but you’re in no fit state to drive, Ms Marchland, not tonight.”

“But I… I…” she brushed angrily at a few rebellious tears that spilled onto her face, “I must!” she insisted.  “It’s important, my job…”

She trailed off, covering her face with her hands, and then jumped as the weight and warmth of someone’s else’s settled onto her shoulder.

“Belle,” she heard Hunter’s voice, soft and close beside her, “We… after we have delivered our goods to the docks, and picked up our cargo from the cannery, Karrl and I are heading back to Boston.  We could take you.”

She uncovered her face, and looked around at Hunter, hope flickering in her watery eyes,

“Is that even allowed?” she asked softly, and Hunter shrugged, looking at the sheriff, who echoed the movement with a shrug of his own.

“It’s the least we can do,” Hunter added, and reached out with his free hand to wipe away some of the tears from her cheeks.