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taminoarticles · 2 years ago

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— Tamino for Milk.xyz, 2019 (x) (x)

Exploring Intentionality With Tamino

For this Belgian-born musician, every word counts.

10.1.2019 By Ella Jayes Photos by Dana Boulos

Tamino’s first New York show is sold out, and the crowd is enraptured. Throughout the performance, the audience seeks to establish a connection with the towering 22-year-old dressed in black. At every bout of silence, they ask questions, they request songs. “Play ‘Crocodile’!” one fan screams, and though he’s about to start another piece, Tamino switches chords and bends to our will. “I didn’t know that worked,” a surprised fan replies.

When he’s not touring with Radiohead’s Colin Greenwood, playing with the Nagham Zirkayat Orchestra or being personally requested to perform with Lana Del Rey, it’s just Tamino-Amir Moharam Fouad and his instruments.

When asked which guitar is his favorite, he answers like a proud father, “I can’t pick,” as he slings a black electric over his shoulder and secretly whispers “this one,” before heading into another song. Skipping octaves, his voice is like velvet, passing through Arabic vocal and tonal inflections.

Music is in the blood for the Belgian-born artist; with a name inspired by the prince of Mozart’s “The Magic Flute,” and a revered Egyptian grandfather nicknamed “The Sound of the Nile,” Tamino was born into music.

Before his show at National Sawdust and as he gears up to release the deluxe version of his debut album Amir [out October 18th via Arts & Crafts], we met Tamino at his hotel in Brooklyn. Just a day before the passing of Daniel Johnston, we spoke about the importance of authenticity in songwriting. We explored Tamino’s lyrical journey and the meaning behind his newest singles. It’s striking how thoughtful and specific he is with his words – in both his work and his spoken language.

So you have your show in New York tomorrow, you’ll be touring in the US and Canada, then you go into the Middle East, North Africa, and then the EU — you were also on tour at the beginning of the year as well. How are you faring with being on the road so much?

I’m very lucky because I have an amazing crew: my sound guy, my tour manager, if we’re with the band, we have a slightly bigger crew, we have two musicians and a backliner, and light guy [sic]. They’re all good guys; without them, I wouldn’t be able to bear it, I think.

I like being home; I like to be alone, and I like to write and work on music. So being away from that is sometimes hard. The good thing, and also, the kind of weird thing about playing shows is that you’re kind of dedicating your life to that: being on the road. You travel the whole day and then in the evening, you have your show. It all comes down to that. You have to make it work because otherwise it’s been for nothing, you know? You kind of push all of your energy into that, and you receive a lot of energy back from the crowd, which is what keeps you going, I guess; that interaction, the energy.

How do you recalibrate before getting on stage? How do you get in the correct mindset?

I do like to warm up my voice. I think that’s something that’s important. It’s good to get into the right mindset, and also to just get my body ready. Apart from that, I think am [sic] somebody who does well with routine, but right now I don’t really have one. When we tour, it’s not like we have the same production each evening. It’s like, “Oh, now we’re playing for 200 people...Oh, now we’re playing for thousands of people.” It’s always different from each other. Also backstage, it’s always different, so it’s difficult to maintain a routine. But I think maybe in the future, meditation would be nice, or just something to get me in the moment.

I must say I’m doing better and better on stage, in terms of being there, and not being stuck in thought. I did have trouble with that in the beginning; sometimes I was just thinking about stuff.

Like what?

Stupid stuff like tasks I had to do; nothing that has anything to do with the show. Hesitations like, “I wonder if the crowd is liking this or..” just stuff you shouldn’t be thinking about while you’re performing.

Lately, when I’m on the stage, I really feel like it’s not that much of a problem anymore. I can just let go. Those are the most beautiful moments, when you are really led by your own music; you just feel that the crowd is reacting to that, and I really like that; it’s something I’m always after. It’s kind of a transcendence feeling. If it works, it’s better than meditation, for me. My whole evening is different after that.

It makes sense, you’re fully in the present.

One of the main aspects of music is connecting with other people. Is there a specific crowd that really resonated with you? Or a specific fan, or show? I’m sure that they’re all great, but if there’s, one that comes to mind…

They’re all great, yeah, that’s the diplomatic answer. It depends, probably some cultures are more keen to show emotion.

What differences have you noticed between the crowds?

In Italy, they are very enthusiastic, but they are very respectful at the same time. It’s very special, they will be quiet for the whole song, and then they will want to shout, and they will throw roses at you, or whatever. It’s very romantic, the French are like that as well. In America, I feel actually very welcomed. It’s very inviting here, I don’t know how else to put it. I have the feeling, maybe I’m wrong about that, but as a European, it is like the new world, you know? And so many people move here. Of course, it was all a very long time ago, but people are still moving here. There are so many cultures coming together, and that’s why the crowd is very receiving. They’re open for other cultures; let’s say, it’s not an island.

I haven’t had many bad experiences, to be honest. I think I’ve been very lucky so far. Maybe it’s because I’ve never had a worldwide hit song or something like that. I think that’s the moment where you get crowds that are only there for that one song. And so far, I think I’ve always had crowds who have really invested in music. They’re there with a purpose, they want to experience something. Until I have this hit song, I don’t know if I’ll ever have one...I don’t know if I ever want one, to be honest, because of that reason...but until that time comes, I think I will always have good experiences.

What’s the first thing that you want to do when you’re done touring in December?

I’m moving to a new house. I feel like I just want to decorate the place. It’s the first time I will be really designing what it looks like. It’s in this very multicultural area, a lot of Arabic families live there, but lately, a lot of other Belgian families have been moving there. It’s kind of becoming this nice clash of cultures, and I like that. It feels like it’s a vibrant place.

Antwerp is very, very small. You can cross one corner, and then you are in a totally different area. It’s this very small area of a lot of cultures coming together and I really like that. I would say some parts are too gentrified, which wouldn’t have been a good place to go and live for me. It doesn’t really inspire, it’s not a vibrant place. It kind of feels boring.

In Belgium, lately, because it’s such a small country, it’s not difficult to become known, so they recognize me, or whatever. It’s not like they bother me, but I prefer to…

Just go about your day.

Yeah.

What are your inspirations for your new place? What do you like?

So many things, I know this designer he’s called Jan Jan Van Essche. He is really, really cool Of course his clothes, I love; I wear a lot of what he does. But the way he decorated his shop, and his office where he works and where he draws, it’s so beautiful. It’s a mix of, say a lot of different ethnical inspirations coming together with kind of a roughness, a bit more industrial. But very humble. It’s a very humble appearance. It’s not too over the top.

You have two new songs, “Crocodile” and “Every Pore,” but only the former is out at the moment...do you want to talk about them?

The second one’s out next month. They’re both quite old songs. So when I chose to record for my album, I had a lot of songs, and I chose these possible candidates for the record. Those two made it to the last 15-16 songs I would say. But then, in the end, they fell out. When I listened to them again, and sometimes I played them live, I always had a good reaction on the songs.

I really like them, I just think they’re true B-Sides; they are kind of odd songs in comparison to the other ones. I really felt like I wanted to release them anyway, so with the deluxe version, I felt that was a really good opportunity. With the song we just released, “Crocodile,” for me it was very weird listening back to the song. I wrote it so many years ago, and it kind of perfectly talks about the situation I’m in right now, not literally. You have this crocodile, and he looks at the songbird and offers the metaphor. Crocodile could be the person that has yet to be awakened, and the songbird is what he could be.

I guess any artist goes through that; you see a version of yourself, you want to strive forward, but you also know everything that comes with that because of history, because of stories you’ve heard so many times. And you know that there is a truth in those stories because they happen over, and over, and over, and it can happen to you as well.

I read in another interview that you said “Someone can play three chords or maybe even one chord and move me. It’s because of the person that plays it, and how they play it.” When’s the last time that happened to you?

Let me check my Spotify because I always forget whatever I’ve been listening to lately.

Okay, my daily mixes are the singer- songwriters from America, the new ones, the ones who are still alive. Then, the ones who are a bit older, or dead. And then Arabic music. The more Alternative stuff, some Hip-Hop, all kinds of stuff.

Do you know The Disintegration Loops by William Basinski? It’s crazy. So he has tapes of existing music, and he manipulates them. But this one was broken, and it just kept on looping, and every time it looped, it got more broken. During this session, 9/11 happened. So he was looking, out and the album cover is a photo from where he was working.

It’s the same thing over and over, but it moves me like crazy. Do you know Daniel Johnston? I think what’s so cool is that he’s not a virtuoso, but he moves me more than 99% of all virtuosos.

He’s authentic.

Yeah, he’s authentic...how do you say it? We say, he has (literally translated) “saying power,” power in what he says... His songs are beautiful, the lyrics are heartbreaking…

What are you reading right now?

I just started A Brave New World which is cool. I think he was really young when he wrote it, it’s just insane to realize he wrote it then. It’s so accurate. If there were people who wanted to create this Utopian society where everything is perfect, it would be like that. I haven’t read 1984 though which is similar I think.

Your writing is very rooted in emotion. I’m assuming it could be cathartic to perform, but I’m wondering if there’s ever been a moment where it felt like too much.

I’m not sure. I don’t think so, actually. Maybe like once or twice, it’s usually when you just finished writing a song, and you perform it for the first time, that’s usually a very special moment. I don’t really feel like it’s ever too much though, that I can’t play it.

I feel like there is also a certain sense of letting go once you’ve performed it. Once you’re ready to release it to the world, you’ve almost come to terms with whatever you were writing about.

Absolutely, that’s true. You realize it’s not yours anymore. Have you listened to Mount Eerie’s record, A Crow Looked at Me? He had a child with his wife, and then his wife died. It’s really, really terrible. That record is really beautiful. I’ve never seen a concert of his, but he did this concert in the Netherlands once in a church, and that was so emotional for everyone there, apparently. If I listen to that record, I’m always wondering, “Whoa, how does he do it?”

You’ve previously discussed the idea of letting go of performing the exact recording of your work, and moving more towards letting the music evolve through playing it. Has there ever been a time when you’ve wanted to change a lyric or something?

Of course, I mean, it’s actually funny because in the foreword of Brave New World, Aldous Huxley is talking about looking back at old work, and you, of course, want to change stuff, but that it’s also beautiful in a way, that you cannot.

And it’s this moment in time, where you were that person back then, and you were that kind of artist back then. I think some of the lyrics on my first record are very naive and very bold, in a way. Naive is kind of the more negative way of looking at it, and bold is the more positive way of looking at them.

Probably, I’m less naive in my songwriting right now, but I’m also less bold. That’s something that I feel right now, the older you get, the more you think; you have more in your archive, you overthink. But, I have no trouble performing those older songs. Even if I’m not very proud of certain lyrics, I still feel totally behind them. I’m still comfortable representing those songs. I stand behind them.

Because your words are so intentional, when you’re actually writing them, is there a revision process or do you just kind of get tapped into something and write?

I hope to just write, and then stuff happens. The lyrics, I go over and over it, until they are just right. So far I’ve written more out of music. So the music came first, and then the lyrics. I’ve done it the other way around as well, but I feel like those initial melodies and structures, they’re always the best when they just come out of this flow.

It’s like a gift, you just have to be open to receive it. I went to see Nick Cave, and he said such a beautiful thing. He said there’s no such thing as writer’s block; too many people think that there’s something inside of them that they need to get out, but it’s actually something that’s out there that needs to go through them.

If you are open for that, so if you try each day, then eventually those things will flow through you. Or maybe you’re in a certain moment in your life, where it’s not really going through you.

Last question – if music did not exist what would you do?

I wouldn’t know. I did acting and theatre when I was a kid. I really liked that, it was my first passion. I like writing as well. As long as I have a creative outlet, then it’s fine.

CREDITS

PHOTOGRAPHER: Dana Boulos

PRODUCER + EDITORIAL DIRECTOR: Ella Jayes

HAIR + MAKEUP: Heather Rose Harris PHOTO ASSISTANT: Henry Fey

Special Thanks to Studio Blackheart, Nicole Prokes, + Chris Swainston.

#tamino #tamino amir #milk.xyz #milk group #article #interview #english #2019 #with photoshoot #original text #NOTE: the original website has been taken over by some casino group. the first link links to the wayback machine page for the #original url because i was kinda scared that the actual link would give you like. a virus or something idk there's nothing there anyway #the second link is for the pdf of this article sent to me by tamino archive #thank you sm to tamino archive for saving this and sending it to me <3 #screenshot from vk #fr thought this was straight up lost media

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xpeachesncream · 4 years ago

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bands | thirteen

[ series masterlist ]

summary: jeon jungkook has it all: the looks, the fame, the money, the women. being considered the sexiest man in the industry, he finds no complaints about the way his life is going nor does he find any reason to apologize for the way he approaches it. he is a force to be reckoned with - until he meets you.

pairing: stripper!reader x idol!jjk

genre: (18+) strip club/nightlife au, post grad au | fluff, angst, smut

words: 3.9k

warnings: cussing, mature language/implied sexual content, slight degradation, trouble stirring behind the scenes if you squint, yeonjun and soobin (txt) make an appearance but also as reg 18 yr olds lol

tags: @brightcolorsoffendme @min-nicoleee @eggbutnotyolk @ra-mun-e @miinoongi @jimidol @ppeachyttae @thebeebi @bluesharksandfish @kooafraid @liriaus @thisartemisnevermisses @ggukkieland @preciouschimine @sunniejinnie @cypheruby @cyb3rbab3 @masterlists101 @awhnamjoon @redhedhoseok @wooya1224 @taeismydeath @jikookiekosmos @un2-verse @aynsx @wearenot7withu (please message me if you would like to be added to the taglist!)

"BTS' Jeon Jungkook rumored to be dating stripper from nightclub!"

"Jungkook is no longer single, ladies!"

"Jeon Jungkook is dating a stripper? Why the hell is he doing that?"

"Who the hell does she think she is? I bet she's not even pretty."

"Jungkook fell for a stripper? Out of all people? Damn, and I thought he was better than that."

Jungkook has been tired, the rumors constantly being spread day in and day out. But, it still didn't mean he was gonna say shit to prove himself to people out there. He didn't need to give anybody answers. Hell, this was strictly between you and him and that's how he wants to keep it.

Fuck every single one of you who didn't wanna be behind him and support him. Don't even think about calling yourself a fan of his if that's your mindset.

He could truly care less. He was happy and he felt ten times better than he has in a really long time. It's unfortunate how people love to stay narrow minded. The only thing that bothered him was the fact that it was so unfair for you - how they stuck to that stripper image, rather than really getting to know you beneath the surface.

But it's not like anyone else deserved to know the real you, not after all this shit. And he was gonna keep it that way, and protect you.

"Hey, don't listen to any of that shit, okay?" Jungkook says as he meets you in your car in the BigHit building garage. "None of that matters to me."

"I know, but Kook." You look at him. "Your career, BigHit literally might not even want me here and-and—"

"Then I'll make sure they understand it's not an issue, because it's really fucking not." He says, getting irritated only at the thought of the company giving him issues over you. He watches as you slightly frown, causing him to sigh and soften his own facial expression. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get worked up like that. It's just annoying how people are narrow-minded. This has absolutely nothing to do with you." You give him a small smile. "Come on, I'll walk you." You silently nod and hop out of your car. You follow beside him, your stomach in knots having to meet with their performance director. This meant you'd also most likely run into the rest of Bangtan.

In which happens to turn true pretty quickly.

"Jungkookie!" Hoseok says loudly down the hallway as he approaches the both of you. He does nothing besides smile, curiosity definitely filling his eyes.

"This is Y/N. Y/N, Hoseok hyung." He holds out his hand for you to shake, his head tilting ever so slightly because you know he's familiar with your face. He's just trying to remember from where. Or, he has recognized you, but he's trying his hardest not to say anything.

Cause they have seen all of you, especially in that fishnet bodysuit.

"Hi! Nice to meet you! You can call me Hobi for short. Are you meeting with someone?" You nod.

"Yeah." Is all you can reply with as you shyly tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

"Nice, goodluck!"

"Is everyone else here?" Jungkook asks, making Hobi nod.

"Yeah, but they're still running through some stuff in the dance studio. I just ran off to take a break."

"Okay." Jungkook looks at you. "Follow me, he's in one of the private studio rooms." You both part ways from Hoseok, the need to clutch onto Jungkook's arm immensely strong right now. You hold yourself off though, because even with passing a few female staff members, you catch them looking at you oddly with the way you're walking side by side with Jungkook.

Nope. Don't even think about it, Y/N. It doesn't matter.

Jungkook knocks softly on a door, the middle of it being made up of entirely frosted glass so it's difficult to see inside. Their performance director opens the door swiftly and welcomes you in with a warm smile, stepping aside to let you in.

"I've got it from here, Jungkookie. Thank you." Jungkook nods but tries to peek through the door to get one last glimpse of your face before he shuts it fully. "How are you doing, Y/N?" He sits in front of you, leaning onto his knees with his hands fully clasped together.

"I'm good. How are you?"

"Good, tired." He chuckles. "Thanks for taking my call earlier and for meeting at such short notice on a weekend. I had a couple of things come up and didn't want to push things off until later." You smile.

"It's no problem."

"Jungkook tells me a lot about you."

"Does he now?" You chuckle and tilt your head to the side.

"Says you're a really good person. Super hardworking. Told me a little bit about your situation with your brother."

"Mmyeah, it's a little complicated."

"It's alright, no need to get into the details." He smiles before letting out a small sigh. "It's incredibly rare for me to hear Jungkook speak like that. In general. He's usually very closed off, doesn't like to let people in much. He really respects you, you know? Cares about you a whole lot." You slightly blush.

"I'm still getting used to it." He chuckled.

"Look, I know you've been worrying because of where you've been and all that, but I want to reassure you that none of it matters. I don't like to focus on all that. You're here as you, not her." He says, putting another pronoun to your stripper persona.

"Thank you, I appreciate it." He nods. There's a small pause before he begins to speak again.

"I could really use some help around here if you're still interested? The boys are becoming a lot for me to handle."

"Ah-uh, yeah! Of course I am." You found yourself stuttering at the sudden offer. Was this fucking real?! "But, you are aware of where me and Jungkook are at, right?" You ask, trying to be completely transparent and honest about their relationship. He nods and waves his hand out.

"As long as you keep it professional here, right?" You nod.

"Right."

"Come, let me show you around really quickly and have you formally meet the boys." You swallowed the lump in your throat. Fucking great. He definitely didn't know they've all seen your titties and pussy out during Yoongi's birthday, and now here you were - about to meet them again in this environment. Hobi was awkward enough even though he tried not to be.

Surprisingly, Jungkook wasn't waiting outside in the hallway like you thought he would be, but the tour commences and the PD is taking you around pretty quickly. You feel even more awkward and somewhat alone [even though you weren't] without Jungkook nearby, but you chug along and say your hello's to the people you're introduced to. He finally brings you into the dance studio, where there's loud ass music blasting, Jungkook, the boys and some backup dancers in front of the mirrors fooling around.

"Aye boys, come here real quick." You and Jimin lock eyes and your body suddenly gets tense. The room feels 10x hotter than it already is, especially when he slowly walks over and clenches his jaw. He is literally seeping with hate right now, maybe actually disgust, and he doesn't even try to hide it. Most of them for sure recognize you, but they seem to brush it off and give you a big wave/smile anyway.

"Last, that's Jimin - Jimin, Y/N." You give Jimin a fake smile, and the only thing his ass can reciprocate is the smallest, tight-lipped smile you have ever seen. You've never even seen your mom do that when she got mad or upset with you.

"Hi." Is all you can say.

"Sup." He looks at you before turning on his heel and walking away.

"Ooookay?" Namjoon furrows his brows as he watches Jimin walk away so rudely. "The hell was that about?"

"I knew that was Kookie's girlfriend! Maybe Jiminie remembers seeing her titties and shit too, needs to walk away before he gets his ass beat by him." Yoongi says lowly behind Namjoon.

"Yeah, like you're any better." Namjoon says, looking at Yoongi weirdly.

"I mean, we did see her practically naked." Jin says, chiming into the discussion.

"I touched her." Yoongi's mouth slightly hangs down. "I touched her."

"Go ahead, say it louder so Kookie can hear you." Jin nods sarcastically. "Go, say it!"

"No, stop." Yoongi's cheeks turn red while shaking his head and laughing. "He'll literally launch me out the window with one hand."

"Good."

"You asked for her to sit on your lap too, bro!"

"I was joking, and it's not like she did it anyway!"

"Whatever, I'm keeping my birthday deep in my memory storage."

"Clean slate for her so it should be for you too, my guy." Namjoon says as he has enough of their conversation.

You look at Jungkook who is silently standing there, looking like a big dork with a huge smile on his face and his thumbs up. You give him the tiniest nod before proceeding to follow the PD out.

"So?!" Jungkook dashes to meet you in their waiting room area, where an abnormally large picture of Jimin posing oddly hung up.

"He said he'll send me all the info and papers and stuff!" You respond excitedly as Kook hugs you and quickly swings you around.

"See, I knew it would work out!" He puts you down. "Are you gonna tell Kai?" You shook your head.

"Not today at least, it's his birthday and I don't wanna take away from that. It's his day." Jungkook smiles at you.

"Text me when you've picked him up? I should be home by then."

"Okay." You blush and back away, making Jungkook look at you with confusion. "I have to keep it professional here, duh."

"Ah I see." He chuckles. "That won't last very long."

"Jungkook." You whine.

"There's a lot of private rooms here and—"

"I'm not listening, sorry. I think Kai is suddenly calling me." You cover your ears as you begin to walk away, giving him one last smile before leaving him to the rest of rehearsals and whatever else they're doing. He laughs to himself as he waves you off, excited to get through the day so he can just spend time with you and Kai.

As the hours go on and it's about time for you to pick Kai up, you quickly stop by the store because you're a procrastinator and didn't buy Kai's birthday gift any earlier. You felt bad you weren't able to find the shoes he wanted, but you at least snagged the video game he had been talking about for a couple of days now. Before walking into the arcade, you made sure to write your birthday card and slip some more money into it before shoving it in your bag to give to him later.

"Your pretty sister is here." Yeonjun grabs Kai by the shoulder as he finishes up a game.

"Yeah, and you're too young for her."

"Age is nothing but a number. It's only like.. 6 years apart."

"Besides, she's taken, dude. Sorry." Kai snorts as he watches Yeonjun's smile fade. "You would have never had the chance."

"You're mean."

"I'm mean, or you just have really high, unrealistic expectations?" The rest of their friends laugh as they follow Kai over to you.

"Hey!" You smile at all his friends.

"Hiiiiii Y/N." They all say in unison, some waving in awe, while the others shyly dug their hands into their pockets. "Birthday boy, you all good to go? Got some good Loco Moco waiting for you."

"Yeah, I'm good."

"Happy birthday again, Kai! Get online later!" Soobin yells out.

"Yeah, yeah." He says, waving them off as he follows you out to your car.

"You guys run through the entire arcade?" Kai laughs.

"Pretty much." He sinks into his seat, legs damn near touching the glove compartment with how long he is. "I'm honestly so excited for Loco Moco. It's been years!"

"It has not been that long." You laughed.

"You're right, it's been months." Kai looks out the window. "Wait, you're passing the road to get to our go-to shop though?"

"Cause I found a better place."

"How is there a better place when that one was already supreme?!"

"Hey, trust me on this okay?" You laugh. Kai starts telling you about his day and how so many people he knew from school had been messaging him happy birthday. He truly looked his happiest today and it was all you could ask for. Though at the same time, your heart slightly sank at the fact that he'd be going off to uni soon and staying at the dorms. He was just growing up way too fast, and you wanted to spend as much time as you could with him now before he was too occupied being a college boy.

You slipped yourself past Jungkook's security, parking in the one guest spot they have in the garage that's closest to the elevator. Kai doesn't really question it and hops out anyway, his hands in his pockets as he follows you into the elevator and onto Jungkook's floor.

"You ready, kid?"

"Is this some like, Michelin Star Loco Moco restaurant?"

"Ah, I guess you could say that." You knocked on the door, hearing music playing in the background. Jungkook opens the door and Kai's eyes widen.

"Oh shit, that's Jungkook?" Kook laughs and steps aside to let you both in. "Sis why—what—how come you didn't tell me we were seeing your boyfriend? I look like a mess!" He says lowly.

"You don't!"

"Hey Kai! Happy Birthday!" Jungkook says smiling, making Kai actually blush. He's cheeks are tinted with a rosy color and he suddenly gets all shy.

"Thanks."

"Your brother's tall." Jungkook looks at him up and down.

"Looking at an 18 year old 6 footer."

"Must be nice."

"Go sit." Kai silently nods as he sits awkwardly on Kook's couch, while you go and check in on him in the kitchen.

"Is he always that shy?"

"No. Just with you, apparently. He's not even that shy around girls." You chuckle as he places a quick kiss on your head. "Need my help?" You still ask even though the plates are neatly prepared already.

"Not really." He smiles down at you. "You hungry though?"

"Starving, actually." Your eyes light up at the plates. "Ouuuuuu, yum."

"Honestly, I think this batch might be better than my first."

"Still honored to be your guinea pig." You carry a plate over to Jungkook's coffee table in the living room.

"Oh shit, that looks amazing." Kai says, slipping himself down from the couch to the floor so he could get a good whiff of the plate. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Jungkook hands you the remote before walking into his room. "Pick something."

"Here, birthday boy. Help me choose."

"Let's watch Soul on Disney+." At this point, Jungkook comes out of his room with a wrapped present, his eyes locked on the TV.

"Ooh, I keep seeing this everywhere! Niceeeee." Jungkook says, smiling with Kai nodding and already digging into his plate. "By the way, this is for you." You shoot him a look as he sits on the floor by you, watching as Kai unwraps the present. Kai's eyes light up as he sees a shoebox underneath the wrapping, quickly flipping the lid open to reveal those blue Air Jordans he wanted.

"Kook?!" You say lowly, making him smile at you and gently pinch your side.

"Holy shit!" He holds out a shoe, only for him to immediately shake his head and close the box again. "Jungkook, I can't take this." Kai says.

"No, it's your birthday."

"Yeah, but isn't this expensive? You've already done so much for me and my sister, I-I don't want to—"

"Kai, it's cool. If it's one thing you can do to repay me, it's to take my present." You literally want to cry at how sweet Jungkook is being with your brother. He had been good to you, no doubt, but this was one thing you didn't expect from him at all. Quite frankly, you had forgotten you mentioned the shoes to him. The fact that he actually remembered and kept his word.

"Okay." Kai says, gently setting the box down aside before looking at Jungkook with a small smile on his face. "Thank you. I really appreciate it. Like, even with the food and everything. It means a lot to me."

"You're welcome." You give him a soft smile before digging into your food while Soul was already off to a start. Kai and Jungkook devour their food together, with you following shortly behind as Jungkook brings over a small ice cream cake from his fridge for Kai to blow his candles on. After the boys had helped themselves to a good serving of the cake, they started getting hyper and pulled up Smash Bros on Kook's Nintendo Switch [as if Kai hadn't played enough games today]. It started to get intense; the boys jumping and yelling everywhere, bouncing off of the walls, with you getting pulled into the competition every now and then. Even though you knew you'd lost over and over again, you happily joined in anyway, seeing how excited your brother was - plus, it was always a bonus to hear Jungkook's loudly obnoxious, nerdy laugh.

"I WIN!"

"Hey, hey, hey. I let you win because it's your birthday." Jungkook said, making Kai laugh as he crashed to the floor.

"Sure." Kai huffed and puffed. "Crap, I'm tired. What time is it?"

"Almost midnight. We should start heading out, bubba." You patted Kai's chest gently.

"What? No, it's late. Why don't you two just stay here?" You suddenly remembered you've had Kai's shit in your trunk since you dropped him off at Yeonjun's this morning. You didn't have any change of clothes, but that could easily be fixed with Jungkook's closet.

"Only if the queen wants, she's driving."

"It's late, baby." Jungkook says to you softly. "No way I'm letting you two head out there."

"Okay." You give him a small smile before handing your keys. "Can you do me a favor?" He chuckles.

"What is it?"

"Kai's duffle bag is in my trunk." He nods and takes your keys.

"I got it. Kai, you can take the guest room or my office room." Jungkook says with his 3-bedroom apartment having ass. "I have my computer in my office room though, and a pull out bed. I don't know how comfy you'll be."

"It's cool, I'll just take your guest room. I always bring my laptop and switch whenever I sleep at my sister's." Kai says getting up. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Jungkook says, toothlessly smiling at the both of you, completely endeared at how alike you two were - even down to the fact that you both said thank you for every little thing. If this was a result of Kai being close to you and having you as pretty much his mother figure, then Jungkook wouldn't know what to do with his feelings. He felt butterflies every time he thought about how cute and sweet you were, and he was always excited to be around you.

Jungkook does a quick jog to your car, grabbing Kai's Nike duffle from your trunk before jogging back to the elevator and back to his apartment. He walks in to see Kai helping you clean up the remaining dishes in the sink, tidying the rest of the things in his kitchen.

"Thank you." Jungkook says himself, a little unfamiliar with saying such a thing to be completely honest.

"You're welcome." You say softly, wiping your hands on his hand towel. "Off to bed, or are you gonna go online with your friends?"

"I'll see what they're up to, but I'm pretty beat. Today was fun." Kai smiles at the both of you. "I really appreciate it." You ruffle his hair a bit before gently pushing him towards his bedroom for the night.

"Bathroom's right over there, help yourself to anything you need."

"Don't stay up too late."

"Only if you aren't too loud." You gasp while Jungkook laughs out loud.

"Kai!"

"Hey, I'm just being honest. Please remember that I'm right in this room."

"Oh my god, go to bed." You shove him inside the room and shut his door. "Don't even say a word." You look at Jungkook shyly as you hurriedly brush past him to get into his room - even though Jungkook is literally right behind you with those long ass legs of his, making every stride so much easier for him to catch up to you.

"What's your outfit of choice tonight, pretty lady?" He shuts his door behind him as you start to make your way into his closet.

"Hm, I'll just wear this plain black--" You unfold it. "Balenciaga? Okay, I definitely can't just wear this to sleep."

"Why not?"

"Because this is like, name brand and everything."

"So?" He shrugs. "Just wear it, babygirl. It's not gonna make much of a difference, you're wearing it either way." You do a slight pout before you start to slip out of your clothes to get into his shirt. You make his way to his bathroom to take a little tinkle when you notice another toothbrush sitting next to his. A pink toothbrush, next to his blue one.

"Why do you have two toothbrushes?" You wash your hands as he comes in to the bathroom to start getting ready for bed.

"That's yours." Your eyes light up at his statement.

"Mine?"

"I figured since you'd be over more, it'd be easier for you." He furrows his brows lightly. "Unless.. you didn't want--" You press a kiss against his lips, his hands resting on your arms to keep you close.

"No, I did want that. Thank you."

"Of course, baby." He pecks your forehead.

"By the way, way to make me look like such a bad sister!" You say as you start getting your toothbrush ready.

"Why? The shoes?"

"The shoes, the Loco Moco, the games, the ice cream cake." You laughed. "I literally got him a video game and some money."

"I mean, he is turning 18. I wanted to help make it as memorable as possible."

"I appreciate you a lot. Really."

"I appreciate you too." Your eyes widen as you brush your teeth.

"Waaaaow, say thaht wun mohr tiyme." You say, pulling a Jungkook while brushing your teeth.

"Eye apprushiate yoh toh." You giggle. The both of you finish getting ready for bed before slipping into his warm sheets. Jungkook never goes to sleep early, however, he makes sure all the lights are off and that the show he's watching isn't too loud. You have no idea what's going on in his show, but you lay on his chest to watch for a little bit until you feel yourself getting a little more sleepy. He's holding you close, his hand brushing through your hair softly, causing tingles to ripple through your body.

"Kook."

"Yes, baby?"

"You make me happy." You say sleepily as you hung him tighter. He smiles down at you, your eyes now shut close as you slowly start to drift into a deep sleep. He presses a light kiss against your head, fingers still in your hair.

"You make me happy too, sweetheart."

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pyreo · 4 years ago

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Loreposting about Abaddon

Abaddon doesn’t get a lot of attention. As a deposed god he doesn’t seem relevant to the Guild Wars timeline after Nightfall. But I keep thinking about him because Abaddon is probably the most influential character Tyria ever had.

Let’s just go over where he appears in-game if you start off in GW2. Everyone knows the six human gods. They’re in statues, temples, personal shrines everywhere. The base game story makes you detour through a sunken temple dedicated to Abaddon, while the Orrian temples to the other five gods are still intact on the surface. This is not by chance. It’s also nudging you to notice that there are no Orrian temples to Kormir, because she replaced Abaddon only two centuries ago. This is reflected again later on in Siren’s Landing on the other side of Orr, where the Five, and Abaddon, each have a personal reliquary, and Abaddon’s is central, connected to all the others, and still intact.

Building on that refresher on human divinity, in Path of Fire you visit the actual place Abaddon was defeated by the other Five gods and pushed into a side dimension to keep him out of the world.

And when you visit the archives of the Durmand Priory, they have an imposing Abaddon statue towering over the stairs. Other than being reflected in three major environments, he doesn’t have a role in the plot. BUT.

As Kormir explains to you, the weakness of the human gods is that their excess of power keeps fucking up the world. The Desolation, a map that covers only a part of the sulfur desert, is completely uninhabitable because Abaddon was destroyed there. This happened because Abaddon, who was actually the most powerful of the Six and the leader of the group, wanted humans to share in the gift of magic. He was the god of knowledge, after all. This proved disastrous and the other gods reduced and compartmentalised the magic, and Abaddon went on a whole attempt to overthrow them and become one, single god of all.

The destruction of Abaddon’s temples and relics was intentional. He was wiped from memory. The pantheon was called The Five until Nightfall, wherein the existence of Abaddon was revealed as he tried to drag himself back into the mortal plane. As a god his spheres of power were water and knowledge. Erasing knowledge of him was what made him powerless. (Interestingly, the Priory’s special collections contains the Scroll of the Five True Gods, an ancient record of what the human gods knew about the Elder Dragons, but one dragon is missing - the water dragon, who like Abaddon, has a damaged and erased history. The six Elder Dragons and six human gods have many respective connections.)

When he lived, Abaddon’s followers were the Margonites, who believed him the only real god and worshipped him exclusively, unlike other humans who revere all the Six together. They were rewarded with transformation into etheral beings with an extremely long lifespan, and were imprisoned in Abaddon’s Realm, the Realm of Torment, when he was forced out of Tyria. As the god of knowledge he had a realm to himself, and when fallen, his sphere inversed. Knowledge became madness, the theme his realm embodies. Temples were sunk, records destroyed, because to remove all knowledge of the god of knowledge made him powerless.

I can’t remember where, but it’s implied that by Nightfall comes around a thousand years after his banishment, Abaddon is finally able to claw his way back into Tyria because people are starting to remember him. There’s one side quest that sticks out in my memory called The Search for Enlightenment about a scholar stealing scriptures from an Elonian library which leads to a massive raid by Margonites. The scholar was ‘babbling’ about a forgotten god. Proximity to knowledge about Abaddon seems to bestow insanity, the connection between Abaddon in his inverted realm and his hold over anyone who knows he exists. Though the Five Gods tried, they didn’t erase everything (hell, Trahearne and Sayeh al' Rajihd give you a guided tour of an Abaddon temple). Over a thousand years, relics popped up and people began to remember The Five was once The Six. As they did his influence returned until he was able to attempt to merge the Realm of Torment with Tyria and become a single, all powerful god in the absence of the others.

But wait how does that make a forgotten god the most influential character in both games?

Well.

Guild Wars lore is nothing if not completely linked together. Every single thing has cause and effect, every event is a domino. The story is consistent from Prophecies to this day. So let’s start with the first GW1 chapter, Prophecies.

It all starts at the Citadel of Flame.

It was built into the volcano Hrangmer. The charr had been displaced, pushed out of Ascalon by the successful expansion of humankind. 450 years before GW2 the Flame Legion found this volcano and, inside, Titans. You know how Mordremoth’s minions are Mordrem, Zhaitan’s minions are Risen, etc? Titans are Abaddon minions, left behind and hidden after his defeat. They change their appearance to suit their environment. In a jungle they’re vegetative, in mountains they’re made of ice, in the Realm of Torment they’re twisted constructs of flesh, in a volcano, they’re fire. The Flame Legion brings the Titans back to the charr, charr worship them, and in exchange, get immense fire powers. Flame Legion completely takes over charr society and makes it a theistic, misogynist nightmare with the Shamans at the top.

Abaddon has just restructured charr society.

Using their overpowered fire magic indirectly from a human god, charr, ironically, rally against the humans and nuke Ascalon to pieces. The few survivors escape to Kryta. Charr are now pretty much unstoppable and invade all the way to Orr. Vizier Khilbron used a powerful stolen scroll to repel the charr with magic, and it completely destroys Orr, collapsing the island into the ocean.

Abaddon has just wiped out two nations of the humans who used to worship him, with Orr as the final goal - to tear down the resplendent city of the Gods who betrayed him. This is referenced, if you know what you’re looking for, in GW2. You can scale the Vizier’s Tower, where he read the scroll that sank all of Orr, and on the wall...

A mural to the lost god, a testament to power that, a thousand years later, one who was expunged from history had a faithful likeness depicted.

Ascalon’s a burning hole and Orr is underwater. Now what? Those Ascalonian survivors in Kryta find the place is controlled by White Mantle. The White Mantle are committing mass murder via bloodstone sacrifice (bloodstones being the power curb the gods introduced after imbuing humans with magic) in order to halt the prophecy of a Chosen One opening the Door of Komalie. Vizier Khilbron turns up, shaking out some mysteriously wet boots don’t worry about that, and leads you against these genocidal cultists. Which, whoops, does lead to the Door of Komalie being opened - and it’s a doorway into Abbadon’s Realm of Torment, out of which Titans power through. This was the apocalypse planned for Kryta. Unlike the first two, this one is thwarted by the player. Kryta lives on. Vizier Khilbron is the final boss and turns out to have been a lich.

That’s 3 of the 5 human nations. What about Cantha and Elona?

GW: Factions is the Canthan chapter in which Shiro Tagachi, the emperor’s bodyguard, continually visits a fortune teller until she inflicts such paranoia on his mindset that he believes he needs to kill the emperor in self-defense. His defeat causes the Jade Wind that creates the Jade Sea. As a spirit, Shiro then engulfs Cantha in a plague that warps people into tumorous mutants. The fortune teller turns out to be an Abaddon minion whose task was the eventual destruction of Cantha. This one also is foiled by the player.

GW: Nightfall is the culmination chapter. Abaddon is now powerful enough, well known enough, to breach Tyria and try to come back. His agent is Varesh Ossa, who slowly transforms into a Margonite over the course of the game. The player confronts the breach between planes and finally enters the Realm of Torment, meeting the shades of Abaddon’s servants that came before, the lich form of Vizier Khilbron, and the spirit of Shiro Tagachi, before facing Abaddon himself.

And that’s the end of it. In Guild Wars magic cannot be created or destroyed, only transferred, so another god ascends in Abaddon’s place. They are once again The Six.

It’s Abaddon that ruined half the Elonian desert, Abaddon whose sinking of Orr gave Zhaitan the perfect mass grave to necromance, Abaddon who froze the Cantha sea into solid jade, and Abaddon whose final death and eruption of magic started waking Primordus, leading to the norn, dwarf and asuran alliance to stop it in 1078 AE-- introducing the norn and asura to the rest of Tyria, and making the dwarves extinct, cutting their entire race’s existence short. If it wasn’t for Abaddon, the charr wouldn’t have been taken over by their magic-toting shaman caste, only to come to their senses and rebel and ostracize the Flame Legion afterward. Hell, the current Flame Legion Imperators STILL style their horns in an homage to Abaddon, and probably don’t even remember why! To a human god, gone for over a thousand years, who used their race as pawns in a revenge attempt at wiping out every nation the humans had built!

And even after being thoroughly and completely destroyed, his magic STILL haunts Tyria enough for his statues to punish you for not showing the proper respect.

#gw2 #guild wars 2 #long post #LONG fucking post (apologetic)#abaddon #guild wars 1 #had to get this out me brain there we go

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moxfirefly · 4 years ago

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Okay okay okay I have something. You are so good at writing tmnt so here it goes. What about... Make up sex? ;) I imagine how there has been a huge fight with their girl. So much so that the turtles thought it would lead to breakup. But the SO returns and it ultimately leads to some angsty action. Of course you can imagine it however you want too! Make up your own reasons if need be!!

As somebody who breathes angst this is truly fun. You didn’t specify a turt lad so I hope you don’t mind me choosing and going from there. Just cause I’m intrigued ima go with my orange boi.

TW: Angst/Feels/Arguments

Rated Explicit (18+ only)

His hands hurt so much. When you ball your fists for too long the tendons tend to protest, the digging of nails into palms stings.

Mikey doesn’t like how loud his head feels right now. He sits against the wall closest to his tv, your scent is surrounding him and it only serves to make him more frustrated and gutted. The two of you have never gone past discussion into full blow arguing. He doesn’t like to fight with you, he does enough fighting on a nightly bases anyways.

But you got stubborn and he got selfish. Voices got raised, things were said and each one got hurt. He knows he can’t keep you glued to his shell forever, he’s had to learn the hard way, that there’s a life above that you inhabit and people around he’ll never truly meet. He knows every detail about your home life, knows your mother’s maiden name, how your aunt likes to get drunk at the family reunions and spill gossip. He knows your childhood home’s street name, the first guy you kissed, the first girl you kissed. Every aspect of your life you have told him in confidence, in laughter, in tears.

But Mikey is never gonna be part of it. He can’t really meet your dad and have that ‘if you break her heart I’ll break your legs’ talk. He won’t bond with your mom over their mutual love of cooking and secretly become her confidant. Knowing all these people but never truly knowing them is something he accepts.

It’s you leaving for three months back home. Three months away from him, three months where you’ll be surrounded by nostalgia you miss and love. Where your family will ask about ‘any boyfriends?’ and you’ll have to fake laugh your way through it. Three months of you being amongst people you constantly miss.

Surrounded by normalcy.

And Mikey wanted to be happy for you, he wanted to say fuck it and face time you every morning and night, watch you be happy to be in your hometown and maybe even get a virtual tour of it...

But that little dark part in his brain calls him a freak and reminds him constantly that you’ll get tired of surrounding yourself in craziness, monsters, end of the world scenarios etc. It just can’t seem to allow him to be happy for you. So the entire thing had ended in a fight, where dumb regretful things had been spat and you had marched off pissed and he had remained here equally pissed.

His brothers think he doesn’t get mad, they think he holds himself together through sheer ignorant bliss but it’s never been the case. Cause you’ve seen fire in his pretty blue eyes, you’ve seen those same very pretty blue eyes turn red with tear, you’ve seen so much of what he hides behind his laughter.

And fuck, three months of you away?!

Mikey pushes his knees up against his chest and sighs. His phone hasn’t made a noise despite his efforts to try and call you after he has calmed down. He debated going to your house and apologizing or at least going for a more calmer approach in expressing why this had left him so triggered. He wants to make sure this hasn’t pushed you both to your end, another nagging little thought that hasn’t quite shut its mouth.

Had this been the end? Had you walked out in a fury of frustration and decided this is it? Would you seize all communication and just erase the memories of him and your time together?

He’s hurting himself, he’s also getting angrier. This is stupid, he’s been stupid and immature and so are you for walking off!

It’s two hours before he decides to get up and toss his phone and try to consume his surrounding in order to relax. Mind over matter and all it’s wonderful bullshit. He doesn’t want to leave his room cause he knows the others must’ve heard.

He’s four hours deep into a shooting game when Raph pokes his head in with some food. He doesn’t look up, cause he knows Raph wants to be a good big brother and talk to him but he doesn’t want to when he’s one unfortunate mishandling away from crying. He lets him sit with him, watch him play and run a little bit of commentary that actually makes him smile just a teeny bit.

Even when Raph gets up and runs a large mitt over his head and tells him ‘broads are just emotional, she’ll come around’ he tries his best to not let his eyes betray him. Even when Raph gives the top of his head a kiss and pats his shell, he tries his best to keep it together.

It’s around 4am when he decides to look for his phone, chucked somewhere near his bed and maybe not broken. He finds it under his bed, screen a little cracked and one text message reading ‘r u awake?’ By you, it was sent twenty minutes ago and somewhere between debating calling or texting he hears the curtain in his room move.

You’re there.

Face two parts unreadable and a good topping of frustrated. Your face is bare, a mixture of sleepwear and winter clothing that clearly shows you had tried to sleep it off but couldn’t. “I just saw this... sorry” Mikey wonders if that sorry is related to the unread text or more so this mess. You look away, the energy around you can be felt. That upset way you bite the inside of your lip, how you cross your arms and run through every possible way of starting your side of things to say.

“Why are you really mad about me going back home?” You can’t meet his gaze and Mikey is thankful because he feels an oncoming headache. “I dunno man...” He sets his phone on his makeshift night table and runs his hands through his face, mask being taken off with the motion.

“That’s not an answer, you’re mad about something and I want to know” This time you do look and Mikey’s playing with the shoe string on one of the sneakers that hangs from the bunk bed. He chooses to stay quiet because if he does say something, what are the chances that you’ll understand?

“Mike, talk to me” He huffs a bitter laugh, ‘Mike’ is the he’s in trouble name. But he feels more obstinate than ever because why talk?

He shoves his hands in his pockets and looks down at his feet. “I didn’t come back in the freezing cold to actually work through this if you aren’t going to throw me a bone at least-” Your tone is a mix of exasperation and sadness. “You go back and you forget about me” Mikey cuts through.

You furrow your brows at his statement. “What?” You take a few steps but he side steps you and that somehow cuts you. “You go back home and you realize it’s better to be in a normal environment that isn’t New York, in the sewers, with me-“ He motions to all of him. “And all the crazy shit we do” He glares, not necessarily at you but more so at all of this, the current state of affairs.

Running a frustrated hand through your hair you try to settle your thoughts. “You can’t jump to a conclusion like that and you know it, I’m not skulking off back home and ghosting you! And frankly it fucking hurts you think of me like that” You reach for him because Mikey can’t be still for five seconds if his life depended on it, but he grabs your hands and refuses to let you lull him with your touch. “It’s not a conclusion it’s a friggin possibility! Do you see us actually being endgame in all this shit!” He grips your wrists, you want to get through to him but he’s lost in that terrible negative mindset.

“We both aren’t mind readers! But trust me that leaving you is nowhere on my list of achievements” You manage out of his grip and grasp his face. “You are being unfair and stubborn as fuck but I love you okay?” Your voice sounds almost angry, angry at the very idea of living in a world where you and him don’t coexist together.

“I can’t even marry you! I can’t even knock you up!” Another bitter laugh escapes him, he knows your parents would die for some grandkids. Why is he so different, why does he have to be so fucking different he wonders bitterly.

“I don’t care, I don’t fucking care about a piece of paper or screaming babies, I care about you and I want you and I’m fucking happy with you stop sabotaging it” You press your hands to his hard plastron and scowl. “Stop lying to me then! Don’t pity lie at me when I know you want all that shit” He frowns, eyes watery and not caring if he wakes everybody up in the Lair.

Mikey’s ready for the rant of a life time but then you have to go and kiss him.

Kiss him hard, kiss him with rage bubbling on the skin of your lips. He can taste your words, taste every way you would’ve shut down his words with basic truth and facts. You pull away, forehead still pressed to his and you mutter against his lips. “You’re so fucking insufferable, shut up and listen to me” Your eyes are watery as is, hands at his neck to keep him at eye level.

“I love you, I love you so fucking much” You take a shuttering inhale, fingers skimming up towards his cheeks. Mikey can only watch you, take in every detail he’s been obsessed with for so long. You’re so beautiful to him, even when your angry crying, yelling at him to open his eyes. You’re warm and real in front of him, against his body. You watch his eyes go from that calm before the storm into the aftermath.

He’s so real to you, so lovely and he doesn’t seem to understand it.

There’s a pause. A mere ten second reprieve where only silence and breathing remain. Mikey feels your hands slowly slide down his body, nails scratching his sides. You keep your eyes on him, a hand slides into his shorts, index finger mapping out the slit that encompasses his most intimate part. Mikey shudders, sensitivity racking his body at your touch. He walks you up against a wall, a hand on your neck and another finding it’s way into your own pants.

He teases you, just as you tease him. Knees buckle when he pushes your lips apart and feels your moistening folds. There’s already a bump where your touching him and the way he’s tensing gives way to how he’s trying to hold himself in. “Come on, come on” You weren’t aware just how hard you’ve been breathing till you speak. Mikey’s mouths falls open, eyes closing as he drops down into your warm awaiting hand. You stroke him, teasing the flesh of his head just to make him buck and recapture your lips. His own finger finds its way in you, stretching and making your breath hitch.

The only reason you both pull away is to tear at one another’s clothes, an easy accomplishment when Mikey’s got just his shorts. He isn’t soft with your clothing either, yanking and nearly tearing, his on his knees pulling off your underwear. Your scent hits him and he’s gone, trapped in all that is you. He inhales sharply as he gets back on his feet, arms hooking under your thighs as he picks you up.

You both land on the bed, a huff escaping you and a grunt when Mikey feels you push him so you can straddle him. You don’t quite finesse this, it’s not your usual seductive ways that leave him a mess. It’s rough, there’s still frustration lingering in the air and Mikey’s okay with it because he knows he might go to rough if he runs the show.

So you do.

Sinking down on his hard cock with a long guttural moan. Mikey digs his fingers onto the plush skin of your bottom, just enough to make you sit on his cock and relish it. Eyes closed he just basks, the tightness, the wetness, the warmth. His eyes flutter open when he feels your palms on his plastron, firm and with purpose. His hands know already, they go up and rest on your waist and he swallows a churr when your hips begin to move fast and hard.

That rhythmic slapping of flesh, your rear hitting his lap on each thrust down. Mikey can’t stop churring, eyes on your own or slipping down to your beautiful breasts bouncing. You notice and lean forward, he buries his face between him, arm going around your waist as he lifts his hips to help you cross that line. The sweat of your skin is on the top of his tongue as he sucks a bruise onto your breast, you’re tightening up so much, cussing and begging for him.

You both can’t stop moaning, once you’re cummin and Mikey follows closely behind. He holds you close to him as you ride out the sensations, tightly secured against his strong body, held and loved. You’re a broken record of ‘I love you’s and so is he, filling you up and up.

Collapsed on top of him, chest heaving, you still feel the strength in his arms as he hugs you to him. You bury your face on his neck, body shaking with sobs as he whispers he’s sorry over and over as he kisses your shoulder, neck and head.

You say it too, against his skin.

Where you wish you could stay everyday.

#tmnt bayverse #tmnt mikey x reader #tmnt michelangelo x female reader #michelangelo tmnt #tmnt michelangelo x reader #tmnt michelangelo #mikey tmnt #tmnt mikey #michelangelo x reader #mikey x reader #Mikey #Michelangelo #smut prompt #ns*w #ask #bumbleburn

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itswildwinters · 4 years ago

Text

Hello lovelies and welcome to my October 2020 fic recs. These are the fics that I read these last few months. The main pairing is Louis Tomlinson/Harry Styles.

This is also an appreciation post to all writers out there. Thank you for contributing so much to the fandom, for making all these incredible pieces of work for us all to read!

I’m wishing you all a happy Halloween in advance!

If you check out any of those incredible fics below, don’t forget to leave kudos and comments to show your appreciation!

Enjoy!

From What I’ve Tasted of Desire by @evilovesyou

When Louis moves to the small Scottish town of Fortrose to spend some time with his father, he thinks he's come to terms with the fact that the next two years of his life will be rainy and dull. That changes when he meets the ever-elusive Harry Styles in his Biology class and he makes it his goal to find out the big secret surrounding him and his family. Louis unexpectedly finds himself in the eye of a storm of secrecy, age-old myths, friendship and romance.

Twilight AU / Vampires / Werewolves / Slow Burn / Highschool & College AU

eyes off you by @soldouthaz

“Just promise me you’ll do whatever it takes to keep us all safe while we’re in there,” Liam says.

Through the crack in the door, Louis can just barely make out the broad curve of Harry’s back, the slope of his curls as they tumble down all sleep-soft and lazy, and the sharp twist of his arm - all leading down to where he’s got his pointer and middle finger crossed over each other behind his back.

“I promise,” he tells Liam firmly, “I promise.”

or; a charlie’s angels inspired fic where louis is the brains, harry is the charm, liam is the muscle, and niall drives the getaway car - and zayn is there, too. sometimes.

Action / Pining / Assassins (kill bad people)

Walls by Travis_Crux

Following his line of sight, he frowned and shook his head, "What's wrong?"

"Wasn't your timer on your ring finger?" Liam asked, at that the Alpha immediately swapped the tumbler and looked down at his finger which sported a string of tiny blue flowers on the underside of his ring finger.

The two of them looked at one another.

"You could've touched nearly fifty people by the time you grew delirious," Liam advocated, always the voice of reason. "Comrades, nurses, doctors."

Sighing, he turned away and continued drinking the water. Literally, the only fucking thing remaining in the middle of a fucking war.

Harry has his soulmate timer stuck at zero from the beginning of time but suddenly the fates show mercy and a lovely forget-me-not takes the place of his timer. In between finding his soulmate in a war camp and solving the puzzle of the charismatic doctor who is treating him, all he can hope for is to live.

ABO / World War I / Soulmates / Angst / Hurt-Comfort

works like a charm by @falsegoodnight

Ever since Louis joined the team in fifth year, a few facts have become set in stone.

One: Louis is the best chaser in Hogwarts.

Two: Harry is the best beater in Hogwarts.

Three: They do not get along.

So it’s really unfair of Liam to think that forcing them to spend time together as Louis recovers from his injury will make them the best of friends. The last thing Louis would do is get along with that git.

Harry Potter Setting / Porn With Plot / Enemies to Lovers

(quiet like a fight) fingers laced together by @letthemkissyou

It’s a thin hope, frail and as thin as the silver strands of a spider web, desperate in the way Louis keeps clinging onto it even when he’s already expecting and preparing for the worst. Maybe one day, he’ll have a home, a place where he can feel safe and sound, tucked away safely from the world that has the tendency to treat him horribly and then even worse, that maybe there will be someone in his life who cares for him, even if in the smallest of ways, and does not just use him for whatever they tend to need at the moment.

Or, the one where Harry is gifted a hybrid and it's a whole new world for the both of them.

Hybrid Louis / Past Abuse / Fluff / Angst

We’ll Cast Some Light (You’ll Be Alright) by fondleeds

There’s tense silence, the whole room completely hushed. The other teams on surrounding tables look between each other. Then, Louis pushes himself away from the table noisily, chair scraping. His face is angered and crumpled, red at the ears. The door slams behind him as he rushes out. The surrounding teams look at Harry simultaneously.

“God, Simon is going to kill us if we don’t die on this mission first,” Niall moans into his hands.

There’s a standard procedure for this. Scan, track, kill. But with a solar eclipse and a Greater Demon with unfinished business looming, the path to keeping England safe from harm becomes complicated and shadowed by mystery and secrets. For Harry and his team, times have never been harder, especially when a few old friends turned foes show up. Harry is left with just over forty days to overcome the hurdle of tension between them and reconcile their past, and figure out just what Louis is hiding from him before it’s too late.

Demons / Enemies to Lovers / Violence / Angst / Fluff / Demon Hunters / Smut

Three Days in February by @mercurial-madhouse

“We have to get out of here, outside,” Harry whispered, turning his hand in Louis’s grip to hold on and pull them both to their feet. “And how do we fucking do that?” Louis hissed, carefully rising and pulling Harry to his feet before Harry could do it. His gaze darted to the front then back of the arena. “None of the doors are where they’re supposed to be.” “What?” Harry looked around again too, couldn’t see any doors, only knew that they must be there, somewhere. “How do you know?” Confusion slid over Louis's features. “Because we’ve been here before, Haz. It’s the O2.” The show. It must be the first night of their tour. They were too late; they were out of time.

Louis is cursed after a night out with the lads and the five have just three days to figure out what happened and how to break it before Harry and Louis both lose their sanity and maybe something more. Louis can hear everything Harry thinks and Harry isn’t sure he can keep his feelings for Louis a secret from his own mind.

Ridiculous amounts of banter and angst, a lot of Harry and Louis alone together, a healthy dose of OT5 friendship, and one very magical weekend.

Friends to Lovers / Fluff / Angst / Action / Adventure / Magical Realism / Hurt-Comfort / Slow Burn

Soaked In The Blood Of Angels by @crazyupsetter

The boy looks drugged, caught between a man who’s almost twice his size and a girl who looks like she wouldn’t even break a sweat snapping him in half despite her small stature, eyes closed and mouth open as he pants, arching up between them almost as if he’s trying to escape.

Normally, Harry would ignore it and continue on his search for someone to drink from, someone who wouldn’t mind his sharp teeth and rough hands. He’s seen plenty of boys like this one, ones who picked the wrong playmates, and if he stopped to rescue every single one of them he would have died from thirst a long time ago.

This one, though. There’s something about this one, the sheen of his bright blue eyes as he blinks slowly, looks around as though he doesn’t know where he is, the weakness of his hands as he tries to push the girl off of him and make his escape.

Explicit Sexual Content / Vampires / Incubus / Dubious Consent / Blood / Violence

The Compulsion to Find Love by Toomanytears

The most prestigious English third-level institution, Candling University, accepts omega students for the first time and Louis Tomlinson applies with bright eyes and brighter ambitions. There he encounters personal obstacles, traditional mindsets and a beautiful boy who inverts every prejudice Louis has ever known.

ABO / Omega Louis / Alpha Harry / Worldbuilding / Slow Burn / Fluff / Angst

Just a bit of work by missyoutoosweetscheeks

It was quite painfully pathetic, really. Twenty five, stable job, stable flat, stable mind (well, quite), a painfully non-existent love life with an even more painfully intact virginity.

Marcel didn't think his life was going to get better with his painfully aparent sociopathic tendencies to block anyone who showed interest in him.

Until, of course, he became Louis Tomlinson's next prey.

In which Marcel is a virgin, and becomes his office's amorous co-worker's next big conquest.

Top Harry / Bottom Louis / Office Sex / Dubious Consent / Porn Without Plot

Fuck U Betta by @jacaranda-bloom

There’s something about having Louis like this, exposed and desperate, that makes a primal urge bubble up from deep inside Harry’s chest. Desire mixed with something else, something unquantifiable. It’s the thing that makes them want this, need this. Nothing else will satisfy them or quench their thirst.

OR the one where Harry likes the thrill of the chase, Louis likes to be chased, and everyone gets what they need… in the end.

Porn Without Plot / Light BDSM / Top Harry / Bottom Louis

push you out, pull you back in by @behisoneandonly

Harry grips his head in his hands helplessly, yanking the base of his dark curls and squeezing his eyes shut.

“Fucking hell,” he whispers, knuckles turning white from how hard he’s gripping the strands of his hair.

“Hey, hey,” says the petite stranger in front of him, quickly standing up. “Stop, you’re hurting yourself.”

–

Or Harry hates feeling vulnerable. Louis is set on breaking through his tough facade.

College/University AU / medical student Harry / Fashion student Louis / Strangers to Lovers / Pining / fluff / slight angst / Hut-Comfort / Anger Management

might we be stardust stories by ryanreynolds

"It was easier being at war."

In which werewolves and vampires have been fighting each other for a century, and Harry and Louis' marriage is what's gonna bring peace to the realm. Hopefully.

Werewolves / Vampires / Arranged Marriage / Slow Burn / Falling in Love / Pining / Fantasy

Like Candy In My Veins by littlelouishiccups

“Um…” Harry said slowly after a moment. “Okay. That’s… this is… Let me get this straight.” He lifted up a hand and swallowed. “You told your family that you have a boyfriend… and my name was the first one you thought of?” “Harry Potter was on TV, alright? It wasn’t that much of a stretch.” Louis pinched the bridge of his nose. He couldn’t believe he was explaining himself to Harry fucking Styles. He couldn’t believe he was stooping this low. “Forget it. I’m sorry I even thought about bringing you into this.”

Harry snorted. “What? Did you want me to pretend to be your boyfriend or something?”

(Basically the A/B/O, enemies to lovers, fake relationship, Christmas AU that nobody asked for.)

ABO / Fake-Pretend Relationship

until this blood runs cold by @soldouthaz

In a town as small as Louis’, everybody knows everybody and gossip spreads faster than the wildfires that rage on just outside their backdoors in the sweltering heat of summer. When something happens here everyone knows about it within seconds. Neighbors call neighbors and notes are left on doorsteps, old telephone lines ringing until there isn’t a single person who is left in the unknown.

So it’s definitely hot gossip when a vampire moves in across the street from him, the very same one who’s just become Louis’ boss.

Vampire Harry / Frottage / Blood Drinking

call you mine by @falsegoodnight

“I have a request.”

That’s what Louis Tomlinson says to Harry when he opens the front door a bit too aggressively. The latter feels justified after a round of annoyingly incessant knocking that was much too loud in the drowsy sludge of early Saturday morning.

“Zayn’s asleep,” is Harry’s tired, hoarse reply, irritation prickling at his skin. Less than a minute ago he was in bed, feeling perfectly content sprawled out on the mattress with the chilled air from the fan cool against his bare skin. And now he’s leaning up against the wooden door frame in nothing but his briefs because Zayn’s best mate decided that showing up unannounced at seven in the fucking morning was a brilliant idea.

“I’m not here for him,” says Louis curtly.

Or, Louis’ curious about how it feels to be bitten. Harry’s going to need more than just one bite.

Plot What Porn / Vampire Harry / Bottom Louis

your biggest fan by @soldouthaz

Just like everyone else, Louis has a few habits that he can’t seem to break. Guilty pleasures, rather. His nails are perpetually short because he can’t quit biting them, the bottom of his shoes scuffed from tapping his foot constantly. Sometimes his leg gets a cramp from bouncing it so often underneath his desk. That isn't too bad, he reckons, just some average teenage coping mechanisms.

And also, occasionally, minor instances of theft.

Top Harry / Bottom Louis / Porn What Plot / Nerd Louis / Jock Harry

give me love by @falsegoodnight & @soldouthaz

Despite being an omega, Louis’ always had a blatant dislike of alphas.

Or, Louis doesn't feel like a good omega, Harry doesn't remember how to be an alpha, and they figure it out together.

ABO / Alpha Harry / Omega Louis / Bottom Louis / Past Relationship Trauma / Slow Burn / Angst / Fluff

The Stars Look Very Different Today by @kingsofeverything

For Harry Styles, child genius turned glorified spaceship mechanic, rescuing lost or broken down ships is a fairly common occurrence.

There’s nothing common about his latest mission, the ship, or that ship’s captain.

The last thing he expects to find in a distant galaxy is the one thing he’s been missing on Earth.

Space / Time-Travel / Science Fiction & Fantasy / Enemies to Lovers

The cat is out of the bag by 28sunflowers

Harry somehow gets himself stuck as a black cat on Halloween and needs help from Louis to change back into his human form.

The problem is: Louis doesn’t even know witches exist, much less that Harry is one. And there’s also the fact he thinks Harry is ghosting him after they had sex for the first time.

So the situations isn’t ideal. But it’s okay. Harry will figure something out.

Light angst / Witch Harry / Potions Accident / Fluff and Humour

#fic recs #october 2020 #larry stylinson

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pixiegrl · 4 years ago

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Am I Pretty?

Part 18 of Lingeriesos:

Luke’s having a hard time adjusting to being home from Australia.

I need to preface this by saying it's a very body image heavy piece. Ages ago, @lifewasradical suggested a prompt based on "Am I Pretty?" By The Maine and I wrote this when I was not in a good headspace personally. Alot of Luke's feeling are how I feel and it's not representative of everyone. Just as a general warning. I'm not sure what else to say here other than I hope people enjoy reading it, even if it's more angst than normal. There’s also talk of eating disorders and panic attacks.

On ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28643556

Luke’s having a panic attack in his bathroom. He’s a grown man and he shouldn’t be, but here he is. Luke has felt off-kilter all morning, feels too big and too loud, like he’s taking up all the space in their house without meaning to. He’d woken up just feeling wrong in his own body, attempted to go downstairs for breakfast and found that the thought of food made him nauseous. He tried to eat breakfast this morning, but he’d almost lost it, looking at the omelet Ashton made, hands shaking, brain telling him that he doesn’t need to eat, not when he feels like this, not when his body just feels wrong. He couldn’t stomach eating anything, kept gagging just thinking about food. He’d gotten into an argument with Ashton about it, snapping when Ashton had told him to eat something. It had turned into some stupid fight about Luke’s habits and Ashton’s need to be in control and had ended in Luke grabbing his coffee mug and storming back to their bedroom. It’s mid-morning now and Luke feels shaky and hungry, but his brain isn’t cooperating with him, stuck on an anxiety loop about his fight with Ashton that he’s only made worse by going into the bathroom, looking at himself in the mirror.

Luke made the stupid decision to get on the scale they have in the bathroom (he’s not even sure why they have one) and he’s freaking out because he saw the number. Granted, Luke doesn’t feel any different. His body looks the same, his clothing fits the same, he feels fine, but the scale’s told Luke that he’s gained some weight. Luke also logically knows that it’s the holiday season and he’s been home in LA more and also in Australia, so his diet’s been off and he shouldn’t be freaking out about it, but he is. He’s standing in his bathroom freaking out because his brain doesn’t know how to handle things, anxiety taking over, trapping him in it’s cycle. It’s not even a lot of weight, but it’s enough that Luke’s spiraling a bit, hyper aware of it now, sitting on the bathroom floor trying to remind himself to breathe, scared that if he stands up and sees himself in the mirror he’ll start really panicking.

It’s stupid that Luke’s brain is like this. It’s been like this since he was young, right when they had started getting famous, pushed more into the public eye. He’s always felt so scrutinized, everyone’s focus on him and how he looked, how he acted. It had gotten worse when he’d suddenly gotten taller, broader, looking more like he does now. He’s always felt pressure to look a certain way, act a certain way, be a certain way. He’s always been hyper aware of how he looks, the image he’s portraying. It’s gotten a little better recently, the freedom of being able to express himself with makeup, jewelry, lingerie and dresses, Ashton’s constant love and support, putting him more at ease, making him more comfortable with his body.

Luke’s been in Australia for a few weeks though, unable to do any of those things. He’s enjoyed being home, getting to do wedding plans, spending time with his family and Ashton’s family. He knows he’s been on edge for awhile, taken out of his routine, and making the stupid decision to get on the scale was really just the tipping point. Luke takes a seat on the floor, back to the tub, knowing that if he stands any longer, staring at himself in the mirror, he’s going to end up on his knees throwing up like he did when he was a teenager, stressed and anxious.

Luke takes a few shallow breaths, trying to count to ten, feeling the cold of the bathtub at his back, trying to ground himself before he slips too far. He knows this is really just one part of the whole problem too. Having to wear nothing but his more masculine clothing back home with his parents has put him into a strange headspace. Even when he’s on tour, Luke still has some freedom in what he wears off stage, what he puts on under his clothing. He doesn’t get that when he goes to see his parents.

Luke put on his favorite part of panties this morning, soft pink cotton with little stars on them, after wearing nothing but his boxer briefs during the trip, and all he can focus on is how big he feels. He feels too large, too masculine, too much to be wearing them now. He feels itchy and uncomfortable, stretched too thin, out of place. Luke hates feeling like this, not feeling at home in his body. It sucks because he’s gotten comfortable over the last few months wearing his dresses and skirts and lingerie in public, painting his face and being free, being himself when he’s out doing things. He’s just gotten comfortable being able to express himself outside of his home and now he’s back to where he was ages ago, feeling like even the panties are too much, not right on his already large frame.

Luke’s trying to will himself not to cry, shoulders shaking slightly, head against the lip of the tub, when he hears Ashton calling his name. Luke doesn’t trust himself to answer, still hoping that he can hold it together long enough that by the time Ashton finds him, he’ll be okay. Ashton’s voice gets closer, until Luke can hear him outside the bathroom door, knocking on it lightly. Luke takes a couple deep breaths, shoulders shaking slightly with the effort of it.

“Luke, are you in there?”

“Yeah,” Luke says, startled by how broken he sounds.

“Do you want me to come in?” Ashton asks, tentative. It’s something they started back when Luke was living with Ashton the first time around, when the world was too much and he was close to breaking. Ashton put the choice into Luke’s hands, not asking Luke if he could come in, but asking Luke what he wanted. Giving Luke the power to decide how much or how little he wanted Ashton involved. Luke has never once turned Ashton away, desperately needs Ashton as his rock, his grounding presence, but Luke’s always been grateful for the choice Ashton gives him every time.

Luke considers it now, turning Ashton away. He doesn’t want Ashton to see him like this, but the thought of being without Ashton makes his chest tight and his throat close up. Luke just wants someone to hold him. Luke lets out a strangled sound, managing a choked out yes when Ashton asks the question again, concern and alarm clear in his voice. Ashton pushes the door open, making a sad noise in his throat when he sees Luke on the floor, kneeling down and wrapping Luke up in his arms, holding him close while Luke wraps his arms around Ashton, tears suddenly coming, streaming down his face.

“Oh sweetheart,” Ashton says, pushing Luke’s curls back and kissing his temple. Luke hiccups, sniffling around his tears. He lets Luke keep crying, body shaking as Luke tries to regain control of himself. Eventually he runs out of tears, sniffling slightly. Luke feels a little more aware of himself, but the out of body experience is still there, the feeling of it being not quite right hanging over him.

“Do you want to talk about it or do you want to cry about it and let me hold you?” Ashton asks, when Luke’s hiccups have calmed down.

“I don’t know. I just...I woke up feeling wrong and overwhelmed and I can’t breathe now. I can’t stop thinking about how I look, how I feel. My brain won’t stop telling me I’m too big, too much, that I’m a burden and a bother and I just want to stop feeling like this,” Luke says, pressing his face into Ashton’s shoulder, letting Ashton run his hands through his curls.

“Why do you feel like this? You haven’t talked about this since the first lingerie set you bought.”

“We went home. We stopped touring and we stayed home and I got comfortable. I got comfortable going out in public in dresses and skirts and wearing the lingerie under my clothing and no one caring. We go out to restaurants and local places and no one bats an eye, no one thinks I’m Luke Hemmings in a dress, they just see me. And then we went home and I just...I felt like I had to put myself back in a box for my parents. I’m just uncomfortable in my own body now, like everything I’m doing is wrong. I didn’t feel right back home, but it’s like being in that mindset for a few weeks has just made me feel out of place here now. And I made the stupid choice to get on the scale and now I just don’t feel right Ash and I hate it and I hate that I’m crying about this,” Luke rushes out in one breath. He feels Ashton’s hand pause, hears Ashton hum quietly, before he starts his movement again.

“Luke, you’ve never too much, you’re never a burden. I know it’s hard for you to understand that when your brain doesn’t want you to, but I love you. You can never be too much for me. You’re beautiful and wonderful.”

“Even when I’m like this?”

“Like what?”

“Miserable. Angsty. I can’t get out of my head and I feel so itchy in my own skin and I only feel comfortable sitting here in my underwear, but now I can’t even think of it as my underwear because I couldn’t wear it for weeks. I just...I wish I was different. I wish I didn’t feel like this. I wish I was comfortable in my body, I wish I could be a better partner, I wish I was just...better.”

“Luke, I don’t want you any other way. This is you, this is who you are. All your good parts and bad parts, the perfect bits and all of the flaws you see in yourself. They make you who you are. They make you beautiful. And you love me, even when I’m locking myself away for hours or when I’m depressed, when I was binge drinking all the time and when you had to handle me getting sober. That’s what being in love is, all the good parts and the bad parts and the in between parts,” Ashton says. He tilts Luke’s head up, smoothing back a curl and pressing a soft kiss to Luke’s forehead. Luke sighs, leaning into it, closing his eyes. He still feels itchy and stretched to thin, but it feels nice, knowing Ashton’s here for him, that Ashton loves him.

“Promise?”

“I promise. I love you, all of you.”

Luke nods, leaning into Ashton, matching his breathing to Ashton’s until he feels calmer, more centered.

Eventually, he feels Ashton shift, straightening his legs out, Luke shifts too, tilting his head up to look at Ashton.

“Thank you.”

“I love you, Luke. You’re welcome. Now, do you want food? Water? Cuddles?”

“Can we have a snack in bed? Watch a movie?”

“Of course darling,” Ashton says, smiling softly, pressing a kiss to Luke’s forehead pulling him to his feet, leading him back to bed. Luke gets comfortable while Ashton goes back downstairs, getting popcorn and water, letting Luke set up something for them to watch. Luke gets under the covers, curling up, grabbing Petunia when she ventures into the bedroom and cuddling with her until Ashton gets in. He curls up at Luke’s side, letting Luke put his head in his lap, playing with Luke’s curls. Luke still doesn’t feel quite right, still feels stretched too thin, but he feels better now, softer. Knowing that Ashton loves him, cares for him, even when Luke’s being irrational and scared and unhappy, makes Luke feel better. It reminds Luke that this is what love feels like. This is what their love feels like.

#5 seconds of summer #lashton #luke hemmings #ashton irwin #body image tw #weight tw #references to alchoholism #alcohol tw #its a slightly more angst piece than i normally do for this series #projection was strong #my writing #eating disorder tw #panic attack #lingerie Luke #lingerie sos

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nctinfo · 5 years ago

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[TRANS] Jaehyun’s interview with HIGHCUT January 2020 issue!

It looks like 2019 will be remembered as a special year for Jaehyun. The most meaningful thing, if I were to pick something, was to finish the first tour successfully. I learned a lot, and I have reflected a lot to become more mature on the inside too. Also, for the first time since I debuted, I had some free time which I spent learning what I personally wanted to learn. Of course, at the end of the year, I was very busy preparing for the stages.

Don't you feel more nervous when you have to work by yourself without your team like during a photoshoot or MCing? Rather than being nervous, I tend to put more attention to various things. When I'm MCing alone for <Inkigayo>, I receive a lot of supportive text messages from the members so I don't particularly feel lonely.

Your daily life is like a pictorial. In particular, your airport fashion stands out every time. What makes you decide what to wear on which day? Haha when we're going overseas, I usually wear items that are recommended by the stylists but to make the style match those particular days, we would mix and match the plain clothes accordingly. Recently I'm weirdly drawn to 'All Black'. All black has only one main style?

Your image seems to change depending on the concept or style. When you had black hair, as Czennies called you, you were like a 'Prince' and when you had purple hair you transformed into a 'bad boy'? Haha, first of all, thank you. I think what you just said can be considered a strong side of me. Since having different faces is a good thing. Personally, I think it's fun to change it up from time to time. Stong, hip-hop, warm or nerdy... I like all the concepts.

NCT's music is expanding on to the global stage. In fact, your group has aimed for a global stage since debut so it seems your sense of accomplishment has become greater. Are you satisfied with the current speed? There wasn't any speed that was expected or planned for. So I don't really know if it's fast or slow, but I can feel that it's steadily going up. Whether it's our sense of accomplishment or to see the amount of fans, who come to support us every time we perform, slowly increasing. Little by little, I feel we're gradually progressing.

Although K-Pop is booming in the overseas market, what is NCT's secret that makes the music connect so well? Uhm... at first, we often explained the 'neo' concept. As we went forward, we pushed through with our concept and even when we challenged new things, we felt fearless. For example, today's pictorial concept's keyword is 'universe' which, in some ways, can be difficult [to portray/grasp] but my fear for it has disappeared. So I continue to challenge myself both musically and performance-wise. I think such diverse sides of us makes us interesting [to them].

Does that 'diversity' also apply to Jaehyun? I'm curious as to whether Jaehyun's color changes in every NCT unit. Depending on what each unit emphasizes, I try to give it a slightly different feeling in terms of performance and vocals. So I can be in harmony with every concept. But still, in regards to vocals, I want to continue having my own tone. On the other hand, regardless of what role I will have, in terms of daily life, I think it will be the same all the time haha.

The cover video for Lauv’s ‘I Like Me Better’ surpassed 14m views. It also became the most viewed video on NCT’s YouTube channel. How did you come up with the idea? This is really haha… For a long time, I thought I wanted to showcase a side of me freely singing. I was like, we could film this while touring. Back in the day I would only do covers. Once I had my recording I just wanted to capture the natural traveling image while wandering around. So I personally suggested that to the company. Thankfully the video came out well… Haha. If I get an opportunity I would like to do this again.

Are all the cities that you went to on tour as pretty as they are in the videos? To be honest you’re not aware of these things when touring. I get to go around a little when we do different things, and I think then I try to enjoy these places instead. While touring I went to Europe for the first time. I really liked it. I only saw pretty streets and night view and it still healed me… I thought I wanted to go back there for a trip and just wander to my heart’s content.

Aren’t you into boxing these days? It’s been 3 months now since I started. (You must be jumping rope?) That’s right I do haha. Right now I’m learning a little bit of the technique and my teacher said it [boxing] suits me well and complimented me, so it’s even more fun now I think. I’ve always liked sport and wanted to try boxing at least once in my life and luckily because I had some time I was able to give it a go.

Seems like when boxing somehow both the body and mind go limp… No really, when I finished my first test I had no strength in my hands. When I was holding my phone it wouldn’t stop shaking… Haha. But even then it still felt somewhat refreshing.

Before that what sports were you mainly into? Any ball game. Even back in school I was mostly playing football, basketball, and badminton. (I wonder what position in football you are?) I mostly came out as a midfielder? But to be fair when playing football at school… There isn’t much meaning behind the position haha.

I imagine you must’ve been very popular. Uhm… I was quite a bit among male friends I guess haha.

The fans know every single charm of yours, but the general public seems to refer to you as the ‘Face Genius’ or keep coming up terms like ‘Mom’s Friend’s Son’ a lot (t/n: someone that moms would compare their sons to because he’s so good at everything). But it feels like there is way more that is still unknown, and even more that is yet to be seen. I think so too? Haha. I’m thankful for nicknames like this, but even then please keep an eye on me. Then you will get to know even more sides of me...

Is that the style of ‘The longer you look the prettier it gets’? Haha. What do your old friends say about you? This to be honest.. What people say when they first see me and what my old friends say about me is very different haha. I think the closer I am to someone the more comfortable I get. The more comfortable I am the more I’ll let go?

What's is your strength that keeps you going forward? That's something I felt recently yet again when we completed our tour. I felt "Wah, it's really great that I became an artist". It was the first time we were able to show our own dances, songs and various other things in front of our own fans, on our own stage. I'm able to continue because there are people who support me and watch over me. Personally, the people around me are a huge source of strength to me. Talking and sharing [stories] with people I really like and trust.

Did your family expect their son to become an artist? Probably not…? I actually couldn’t imagine it at all too. Although I liked [performing] to the degree to be on stage during school festivals, I didn't imagine it would become my job. By chance, I got casted in my 3rd year and my parents said "give it a try" and I felt I might regret it too if I didn't give it a try, so I said, "I'll be back [and went to audition]". Since then, I somehow have come here. (Then they must really like it now?) Haha of course. Actually, they are the style to say: just try whatever you want to do.

It’s already been 5 years since your debut. Between debut and now, what’s something that has changed the most? Woaaah clapclapclapclap (suddenly starts clapping) Woah… Really. It doesn’t feel real. I feel like I’m still stuck at that place… I have a lot of thoughts. Something that’s changed would be that I’m not awkward at music shows anymore and I don’t have to bring manager hyung with me when going to a convenience store? Right now I can go to a convenience store on my own haha. Other than that, everything’s the same. My mindset and how I feel.

NCT’s Jaehyun perfectly became Jung Yoonoh’s daily routine. That’s right. But I still get nervous. One of the things I was bothered about the most when I debuted was freezing. The moment I saw the camera I’d tense up so whenever we did any broadcasts or performances I was always bummed so much. Then I was loosing up a little I think. I started letting go bit by bit and did my best without any regrets.

Is there a side to you that you want to protect in the next 10 to 50 years? It's to not take anything for granted. Whether it's the people around me or whatever I'm doing now, I hope to be reminded to be grateful once again before moving on.

With what's left of the winter and new years, if you were to pick something from your bucket list? I haven't gone to a ski resort yet since I debuted... I've always liked going and this time I want to go snowboarding or skiing. I've got so many New Year wishes though? haha. [I want to] practice playing the piano so I can play just by seeing the chords. Try to do all the things I want to do in various ways.

What kind of winter do you wish for people who like you? To people who like me, I wish you a winter in which your body may be cold, but your heart stays cozy and warm. (You’re good at cooking. Something you’d like to make for them?) For everyone I’d make, uhm… Hot chocolate? I think I can get that for everyone haha.

Translation: Alex, Esmee @ FY! NCT (NCTINFO) | Source: HIGHCUT Scan — Do not repost or take out without our permission!

#NCT #jaehyun #t:interview #t:trans #200107 #HIGHCUT #HIGHCUT: January 2020

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bi-outta-cordonia · 4 years ago

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In Another World, Part I

It’s @rodappreciationweek and I decided I’d do something! I’m still kinda mystified by the idea that Colt and MC could’ve had a completely different relationship if they had met under different circumstances so I’d like to explore it.

This is going to be a multipart story with a ton of words for each chapter, so forgive me for the length. Colt x MC is going to be the focal point.

Ride or Die: A Bad Boy Romance. Colt Kaneko x f!MC (Deidre Wheeler). PG-13, with some warnings in regards to alcohol usage. ~5k words.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She’s been over it sixteen—no, seventeen times. Check-in three weeks prior to the start of classes, RAs are all going to be at the front desk, and keys will be distributed in alphabetical order starting with last name. Ingrid is already set up and, for once, there’s no need to be rankled at the idea of her being first. They’ve already moved on from the bitter academic war they waged between each other.

“Valedictorian” goes to Deidre Wheeler, all around genius and undisputed number one hailing from Mar Vista Prep. Her dad thought it was absolutely hilarious but he always did say he’d rather see young brown girls fighting over achievements rather than stupid stuff. He’s given her the speech about a thousand times, “work twice as hard for half as much,” and work she has.

Burning through courses is almost a hobby more than a necessity. How many honors and pre-college credits are under her belt? Twenty? It’s a rush like no other and almost induces a high of the most unusual sense. “Better than yesterday’s Deidre”—it’s the mindset that keeps her going and the mantra that plays in her head on repeat. She conquered high school doing twice as much, three times as hard, and ten times better than the previous day’s version of herself. Ingrid is very similar and it’s partially the reason why they were able to turn a rivalry into mutual respect within the past few months.

In hindsight, it’s a good thing she managed to quash that thing with Ingrid. High school is one thing and she can’t afford to be all on her own in college. The online facilities tours make it clear she’s made it someplace well above her dad’s humble salary—Langston University. The most prestigious university on the east coast and full of alumni all running in elite circles who most certainly have been afforded educations that far exceed what she’s been given in her life.

These are vacation homes in multiple countries types��kids that have gotten pretty far on the most expensive schooling money can buy and parents that occasionally rub elbows with admissions officers and deans. Mostly wealthy white kids are stomping all over the campus on top of that, so of course that’s an even bigger hurdle to jump. Allegedly, it’s the money they’ll judge her for the most but Mar Vista wasn’t much different as far as the atmosphere is concerned. They underestimated her there too and she’ll roll right over these Langston kids. She doesn’t know any other way to be.

“There it is.”

Deidre lifts her head and peers out the window as the lush campus of her dream school passes by. Groups of kids wander the campus, likely visiting friends or heading to their summer classes. A few cars traverse the tiny winding streets and she thinks of the online facility tour again.

“State of the art buildings, each dedicated to the campus through the network of alumni and donors who are proud to call themselves ‘Drakes!’”

“Ingrid keeps talking about how big the room is,” she says. “Still have to share showers though, so hopefully the other girls won’t be gross.”

Her dad smiles.

“I’m real glad you two became friends.” She makes a noise and he rolls his eyes. “I’m real glad you two became acquaintances. It won’t feel as lonely out here when there’s someone you know and she’s got a good head on her shoulders. Knows what she wants and goes after it–like you.”

She dips her head and her braids fall around her face. Her father shoots a quick look at her but doesn’t say anything just yet. He’d tell her to keep an eye on the landscape passing in the background. All sixty years of academic prestige—prestige she’s dreamed of delving into—surrounds her on all sides. It’s Langston.

Her father shifts and gently squeezes her shoulder.

“You remember seven years ago? When mom drew that portrait of me?” Deidre asks.

She can almost see it again: kitchen floor covered in white tarp yet streaks of paint still stain the linoleum. Her mother’s back always faced the door because the natural light always spills in on one particular side. Orange, yellow, and blue cans of paint fill the room with a chemical smell but she found she never minded it so long as she could watch her mother work. Deft hands glide along the canvas in total silence filling in color and smoothing out rough edges.

She remembers the little moments when her breath would hitch and her body leaned forward as her mother utilized some other form of artistic witchcraft to make her already stunning art into a masterpiece. She remembers watching her mother’s tongue retract back into her mouth as she put the finishing touches of brown in her subject’s eyes. She remembers the wide smile that broke across her mother’s when the work was finally completed.

Her father sniffs and clears his throat. Of course he remembers—how could he ever forget his wife?

“Packed it in the back for you,” he says. “A lot of her old stuff is still at home but that painting had to come with you to school. She never…” He pulls the car to a stop at her residence hall—her new home for the next four months. Ray Wheeler is a man that’s seen every type of tragic story imaginable and felt it in spades when Death came for his wife. Her father reaches across and caresses Deidre’s cheek, choking on tears dangerously close to falling as he stares into eyes that haunt him. “I know she’s proud of you. I’m proud of you, baby girl. And no matter what happens from this day forward, I need you to know you earned this. You busted your ass and you made this dream into your own reality. You are capable—more capable than anyone I have ever known.”

She wipes her own tears. Five years ago, she lost her mother yet every day it feels like she’s still watching. Deidre looks up at the dorm in front of her—all square and looking more spacious than it has the right to be. Twice as hard to get half as much and she’ll keep pushing, not because there are eyes on her but because she sees it and wants it for herself. Success, sure, but endless possibility above it all.

Deidre steels herself and shares a determined look with her father. They both slide out of the car and every step she takes towards the building makes her tremble. She soldiers through it with her head up and her heart slamming in her chest.

It takes an hour to fight through the throngs of students jockeying for their keys to their rooms. RAs and parents alike scream, most of the students are chatting incessantly or on their phones. It’s pure chaos and she almost loves it. The sight of a tall blonde in a cute blue dress has Deidre squinting at first until said blonde turns her head and she’s met with Ingrid’s picture perfect smile.

Ingrid wraps her up in a hug tighter than the one she gave at graduation. It is warm like peak hours on a beach and smells like a brand of perfume that costs money just to name out loud. When Ingrid pulls back, her make up is impeccable and her smile is brighter than the sun. She has to rise to her full height because she has to lean down to reach Deidre and it suddenly makes little sense why Deidre even disliked her for all those years.

“Hi Mr. Wheeler!” Ingrid exclaims, peering over Deidre’s shoulder and waving enthusiastically.

Her father gives a small wave back. “How’s your summer been?”

“Oh, so-so,” Ingrid responds, still smiling. “I guess I’m just anxious. Most of the time, I’m wandering around campus trying to wrap my head around this and then other times I’m just hanging out. So you know,” she absently waves a hand, “just your average young adult on the verge of being a real adult. Oh!” Deidre startles when Ingrid whirls on her. “Most of your stuff is here!”

Deidre tosses a glance at the packed lobby. “I still need my keys first.”

Ingrid snorts. “I got this.”

She barely manages to usher out a strangled sound of protest as Ingrid pulls her along through the lobby. The RA, Danny, quirks a brow at both of them. It takes less than ten minutes for Ingrid to weasel Deidre’s keys from Danny despite her name being dead last on the list. A couple of parents and students toss annoyed looks at them but all they get in return is Ingrid’s signature hair flip backed by Ray’s own intense glare.

Langston isn’t much different from the average ivy league. She can’t wrap her head around how much cash probably flows into this place but she can appreciate what some of that money does. Ingrid leads the Wheelers through rather straightforward halls until they reach the room. She watches anxiously as Deidre uses her key on the door and slowly opens it.

It’s a room almost as wide as the kitchen and living room at her dad’s house back in LA—two beds pushed on opposite sides with enough space in the middle to put two more if they wanted. Ingrid told her she wanted a bunk set up and has already finagled her desk and dresser beneath the gap. Various items decorate the space from fairy lights to the delicate lace framing the bed.

Natural light pours in from two rather large windows and exposes a view of the winding campus walkways. More students traverse these paths, shoving and laughing at each other as they shuffle to their next destination. Deidre peers out the window, takes it all in through two blinks and a breath. When she looks back at Ingrid, she’s gesturing towards the pile of essentials sitting on the other side of the room still waiting to be removed from the packaging.

She can already see it—dawn cresting just beyond the bend of trees framing the opposite side of the walkways as birds gleefully sing. Her heavy eyelids slowly open as she feels around for her water bottle and she removes her thick rimmed glasses so she can properly greet the morning sun. Her bed is pushed against the other wall much like Ingrid’s and sits on four pillars that raise the whole construct off the ground by a comfortable margin. Owls decorate her pillows and covers, muted blue and soft mint green the most prominent color theme, and she stretches sitting cross-legged at her desk while a full night’s worth of work covers her computer screen from top to bottom…

“You’re already thinking about writing a paper or something, aren’t you?”

Deidre shoots an annoyed look at Ingrid.

Deidre’s father whistles and turns slowly, taking in all aspects of the spacious room. “You girls should be cozy enough in here.” He shakes his head and mutters, “…all this damn money…”

“You want to start putting your stuff together?” Ingrid asks, poking at the boxes still patiently waiting by the bed. “I mean, no rush or anything!”

Deidre shares a look with her father and the two smile warmly. It’s almost like old times again.

Strange thinking of it as old times like it wasn’t just three days ago that she played the last game of Conqueror with her dad on a quiet Friday night. He was somber then, still anxious and afraid of sending his only child off into the world. Every night it feels like he’s telling her a new story about a girl that got caught up in a mess she didn’t belong in or a boy that never had a fair shot at life. Cop parents are weird about the dangers of the world but she didn’t want him to feel bad so she just nodded and acted like she was listening.

Cracking open the packages is making it more real by the minute. Her father lifts one side of the bed while both girls slide the platforms under each leg. Ingrid helps Deidre push her desk up against the wall underneath the windows and her father hefts the back portion onto it. The rhythm is far too familiar—Deidre pulls her weight but her father shoulders most of the burden. He took care of her for five years after her mother passed and it frightens her to think of what he’s going to do now that she’s no longer in his reach.

The rest of the day goes by in a terrible blur and she can’t stop thinking about her father. Fairy lights wrap around the legs of the bed and stretch across the headboard. More are carefully woven in a delicate pattern above the wall that now holds a distinct picture of a younger version of herself. Muted blue and soft mint green sheets, pillows, and comforter bring a pop to the room that perfectly pairs with the soft pink and white of Ingrid’s side. Owls in various adorable depictions stare back at her.

It unfolds slowly and becomes the image she pictures it to be. When they all finish, she realizes her father is leaving tomorrow morning.

She starts crying as soon as his hand gently squeezes her shoulder and Ingrid quietly excuses herself from the room, tossing a sympathetic look towards the two Wheelers finally coming to grips with their rapidly shifting reality. Her brain almost tries to get her to remember the last time she cried but she stops it before it even starts.

“You’re gonna do just fine, baby girl,” her father says, choking up on the very assurance. They both know she will. They’ll both be fine once things get going in this new world. He pulls her back and wipes at her freefalling tears. “It doesn’t matter how far away I am, I’m only a phone call away, you understand?”

Deidre nods. “I’ll—”

He shakes his head.

“I’ll see you soon,” he says and nods proudly.

The world is changing. They are changing. But they’ll be here. She has to believe it.

“I’ll see you soon,” she repeats.

He stays until the evening and buys the girls dinner. The food is good and the right amount of greasy (salad for Ingrid though; Deidre never knew she was a vegetarian). Once he leaves, she is somber once more. Night encroaches quickly and she tucks herself into bed rather early. As Ingrid removes her makeup, she tosses a question over her shoulder.

“Anything in particular you doing tomorrow?”

Deidre shifts quietly. “No? What’s up?”

Within less than 24 hours, she breaks all the rules again.

There’s a list of them she always knew sat at the back of her head. All four years of high school revolve around them—she is Ray Wheeler’s daughter, she will conduct herself appropriately in his house. As long as he’s paying for her food and he’s paying for the clothes on her back, he expects discipline. No partying, no drinking, no smoking of any kind, and she responds with “yes sir” and “no, ma’am.”

“Ooh, yes. Dark lippies are so you.”

Ingrid, who is much sweeter than Deidre ever gave her credit for, seems genuinely interested in befriending her despite their previous drama. She’s a bit too tall to share clothes but it just so happens that she’s an expert in making outfits when she puts her mind to it. A pair of scissors lies abandoned on Ingrid’s desk and strips of cloth lay equally forgotten upon the floor. Makeup cakes Deidre’s face (thanks to a quick trip to a local Sephora) and her body squirms in the newly made outfit that adorns her body.

She looks…different. Almost as different as the first time she went to a “high school” party. She remembers a few things from then—copious drinking and a lot of dancing, maybe a stray couple or two making out in the corners. Her face heats at the memory but she pushes it down.

College is different. A fresh start. Ray Wheeler isn’t here and he doesn’t need to know.

Deidre pulls at the short skirt clinging to her hips and fiddles with the crop top that is definitely slipping down (it isn’t—she just can’t help feeling like it is). Ingrid gently pushes her hands away so she can finish applying makeup, her tongue peeking between her lips and her brow drawn tight as she concentrates. It takes another hour before Ingrid steps back with a bright smile plastered on her face.

“Observe,” she says, stepping to the side and gesturing at the mirror.

When Deidre looks at the glass, she knows the face that stares back at her well. It’s her, makeup won’t change the bookish air she carries or the obvious awkward tension in her. Dark liner won’t change the inquisitive look in her brown eyes. Shiny eyeshadow and shimmery lippies won’t erase that strange pout, as if she’s chewing her lip trying to decipher some mystery she can’t quite put her finger on.

She looks the same but also different. This is going to be different.

“I’m insanely jealous of your makeup skills,” Deidre says, staring wide eyed at her reflection.

Ingrid beams. “You should be.”

Turns out Ingrid has made a lot of friends in the time she’s spent on her own out here.

“They’re not really friends friends,” she clarifies. They approach the frat house at a fast pace due to the length of Ingrid’s bold strides. Deidre keeps up as best she can although the journey is a little harder in heels. Ingrid’s lips purse. “One of the guys here is the son of the head of the biochem department. Allegedly, it’s a real boys club here and the only women that really get passes are��you know…”

Her brows raise and Deidre sighs.

“Legacy,” they both sigh.

People start appearing around the bends and corners, each one of them dressed to the nines for a frat party. A few boys shout the Greek letters of the frat and pointedly show off their dates. Deidre looks back at Ingrid and notes the determination flaring in the taller girl’s eyes.

“There’s only two women in that department but they both teach upper levels. I won’t be able to take their classes this year.” Ingrid levels a serious look at Deidre. “We’re smart as hell. Smarter than most of these other people but they won’t act like it.”

She’s heard this conversation a million times.

“Work twice as hard for half as much,” Deidre mutters.

“I’m not gonna do anything with the guy. I just need to milk him for a bit,” Ingrid says.

The frat house is…a scene.

Gold and blue flags drape from windows down the side of the house. People spill out the door onto the porch and spread across the lawn. Loud music blares from speakers on the inside of the house and the beat vibrates through every muscle in her body.

Every step forward has her more nervous than the last. Ingrid takes her hand and leads her through the throng of people crowding the door. Eyes land on them instantly—curious, heated, suspicious, accusatory, and every emotion in between. She sees the stray looks raking over her braids and the sneers that follow. Those ones she actually does make eye contact with and musters the most indignant look she can manage. They look away soon enough but not before sharing cruel snickers amongst each other.

The further in Ingrid leads her, the more prominently the bass thrums. She can barely recognize the latest Raleigh Carrera single. It seems like it’s been slowed.

“I see the guy!” Ingrid shouts. Deidre leans closer and follows her gaze towards him. He looks about what she expects—tall, brunette, and wearing a lot of things that probably cost more than her life. Ingrid shares a sheepish smile. “He’s not that bad, I promise. His friends are kinda gross though, so don’t be afraid to stand your ground. One of his buddies—that guy?” Ingrid points at a boy with glasses. “He’s a sophomore—mechanical engineering. Have a chat with him!”

They get close enough to Ingrid’s guy that he practically jumps up when he sees them.

“Hey, you!” he exclaims, throwing his arms around Ingrid. She returns his hug but Deidre doesn’t miss the way she squeezes her hand. When he pulls back, he flashes a dopey grin. His hands don’t come off Ingrid’s shoulders. “I was wondering when you’d show up! You look really good.”

Ingrid flips her hair and smiles a bit. She nods at Deidre. “This is my friend, Deidre. Deidre—this is Tatum.”

Tatum gives a two finger salute and Deidre returns a small smile. “Any friend of Ingrid’s is a friend of mine. Welcome to the frat! Come here, let’s get you girls some drinks.”

The girls jerk to an immediate halt. Or rather, Deidre tugs Ingrid’s hand hard. There’s a wild and panicky look in her eye, she knows it. Ingrid, bless her heart, immediately remembers that between the two of them, one of them has an incredibly loving father who is also a police officer.

“Um, so like—” Ingrid whips her head around and Tatum looks up from the punch bowl. “Can you make one nonalcoholic? It’s…um…”

Deidre’s face heats up. “I’m not…I’m not much of a drinker…”

Tatum’s friends share a laugh between each other and throw glances at him, expecting him to laugh along it seems. Ingrid’s body tenses next to Deidre but she’s too nervous to say anything further. It’s not like she didn’t want to have these experiences. Ray Wheeler is caring but he wouldn’t tolerate a daughter that was less than perfect. Perfect angel with perfect grades and a perfect attitude—she wants to try different but doing that is easier said than done.

Tatum’s friends nudge each other but Tatum nods earnestly.

“Oh, sure!” he answers. He pours some unholy blend of expensive alcohol and mixer in one cup, then makes a mocktail in another cup. He hands off their drinks with a flourish. “So how’s the east coast treating you both?” He shoots a quick look to his friends and gestures at the girls. “I mentioned Ingrid’s from LA, yeah?”

One of his friends looks up. “I bet everyone ask if you’ve met famous people all the time.”

Ingrid shrugs “It’s not a big deal. You all have probably met more of them than me.”

“I hung out with Nathan Sterling and Poppy Min-Sinclair on my dad’s yacht earlier this year,” Tatum’s glasses wearing friend says. He shrugs nonchalantly. “You know he’s trying to get in here? Kind of a lame move after everything he pulled at that other school but it’s whatever.” He nods towards Tatum. “Didn’t your mom have Bianca Sandoval over?”

“Er, yeah.” Tatum laughs a bit. “Poppy Sinclair though? How’d you make it out of that one?”

His friend shakes his head. “She wasn’t really interested in talking and I wasn’t really big on listening. Anyway what’s up with you, Deidre? You meet anyone cool in LA?”

“Uh, not really…” She takes a small sip of her drink.

The guys remain silent for a beat before Tatum jumps in. “So…uh… You been anywhere fun this summer?”

“Mostly bouncing between my parents’ vacation homes,” Ingrid answers. She offers a sweet smile to Tatum, who perks up immediately. “Nothing too exciting though. Been to Monaco once, you’ve been a million times.”

It’s a conversation that drones on, quite literally dragging its feet across the marble floors. At first, Deidre thought Ingrid would flash a pretty smile, maybe flirt a little. It takes a moment but she starts piecing it together soon enough.

One of the boys asks a question and Ingrid gives a nonchalant answer. Instead of elaborating, she reroutes the conversation back to the boys, essentially handing them the next subject and the floor while she takes ginger sips of her drink.

Suddenly it makes far too much sense how Ingrid knew so much about the kids at Mar Vista. Give them an inch and they’ll run six miles with it. She learns about them and they learn what they think they know about Ingrid. Keeping up with the conversation gets increasingly difficult for Deidre but Ingrid always finds a way to swerve it back around to the guys so they can yammer on about their dads’ possessions and their mothers’ niche businesses.

It’s so drab despite the affluence dripping from their words and gleaming in the low light of the house. Deidre looks around at the many faces slowly rocking and grooving to the beat, or rather what they think is the beat. Couples sway together and drunken kisses are swapped. She downs the rest of her drink and turns, freezing on the spot.

Tatum’s friend—Brandon—the boy with the glasses and one year of experience with the mechanical engineering program under his belt—looks directly at her with something in his gaze she’s sure she doesn’t like. Like he clearly wants something from her that she’s not ready to give.

“Excuse me,” she says, squeezing past Ingrid.

She’s not too proud to admit she’s running. She’s certainly not too proud to admit that she’s out of her element here. It’s hot and starting to get a little rank. Someone is definitely smoking weed, or maybe a lot of people are smoking weed. Alcohol, too much expensive perfume and cologne—

A boy wretches in the corner of the kitchen and her face twists in disgust. All over the floor, completely missing the garbage can and it…it’s covering his shoes…

Deidre pushes past a couple of girls crowding the back door and ignores their moaning.

Outside smells good. Outside feels good. Fresh air and plenty of space to move around. There are chairs strewn across the patio as if they’ve been haphazardly thrust to the side save for one. A boy sits in it, head bowed and broad back facing the door. He doesn’t move for a while though the muted light of his phone shines bright in the night.

Deidre takes a step forward, head tilting and arms wrapping around herself in the cold. The wood must creak underneath her feet because the boy turns around and hits her with a look that almost scares her. It isn’t that he is scary looking—he just seems unapproachable. Thick brows draw tight and dark eyes linger on her cautiously like he’s trying to figure her out before she can figure him.

“Uh…” she stammers. She takes a few more steps forward and doesn’t take her eyes off him as he follows her. “Sorry, I’m just—I just needed some air for a second.”

She meekly drags one of the chairs away from its plastic brethren and sits down in it. There’s a good few feet of space between her and the boy.

He shrugs and returns to whatever is on his phone.

A few minutes of silence pass between them and she knows she’s blown her chance at making new friends. Tatum and Brandon seem like alright people but she knew Langston was going to be a test of all kinds. Wealth oozes from every corner of this place. Prestige and ladder climbing is not just about who you know, it’s who your parents know and have Tuesday brunch with. Ingrid chases a dream of being a doctor and all Deidre ever wanted was to bury her head into mechanics, taking things apart and putting them together again. She’s lost count of how many small appliances she’s broken and fixed. Her father hated it but he never stopped her either. She was smart and he refused to stifle her.

It’s why he always stressed twice as hard for half as much. People have been underestimating her since the day she was born but she never let that stop her from pushing herself. Being STEM and Black and female—she’s a nightmare and she’s been ready to haunt some prestigious minds for a minute.

But first, she’ll have to survive her first frat party and she’s already desperate to go home.

“Alright, I’ll bite.” Deidre glances at the boy and he’s looking at her out the corner of his eye. “You keep sighing like you don’t want to be here.”

Part of her deflates.

“It’s not my crowd,” she answers. Her eyes rake over him again—dark shirt and regular blue jeans, there’s a jacket hanging on the back of his chair and she’s almost certain that it’s leather. “How long have you been out here? You don’t seem too keen on being here either.”

He doesn’t say anything for a moment and she wonders if he’s lost interest in the conversation that quickly. Eventually, he sighs. “I’m here because my roommate is an asshole.”

He doesn’t elaborate any further.

“He’s inside?” she asks.

“She’s at home. There’s a chick she’s been talking to all summer.” He puts his phone to sleep and crosses his arms. “I’m just waiting for her to text me.”

It takes a long few minutes for her to understand it and then her face heats. She hadn’t gotten around to discussing roommate etiquette with Ingrid. There’s so much shit she’s already forgetting.

Deidre fiddles with the edge of her skirt and looks away.

“So if you don’t want to be here, why stay?” she asks.

“Why do you?”

She rolls her eyes.

“My friend’s inside.” She hopes it doesn’t sound weird coming out of her mouth. Twenty-four hours and she’s still in disbelief that Ingrid Tran Delaney is now her friend. “She’s talking to a guy, I guess.”

“You guess? Seems like that kinda thing would be pretty straight forward,” he says. Slowly she’s starting to feel like coming out here was a bad idea. Still better than being inside with Tatum and his friends, but not by much.

“She’s making connections, so she says,” Deidre corrects. “And I’m pretty sure I blew my chance at doing the same.”

She looks back at the boy and he’s just staring at her—

Through her, actually. She lets her eyes roam his face a bit—kind of boyish despite his height with the only sharp angles on him sitting prominently in his cheeks. The lights from inside the house shine on golden skin but doesn’t quite reach those piercing eyes. She opens her mouth looking to chew on her lip but remembers the dark lippie sitting there. He starts looking at her—really looking and it occurs to her that he’s not seeing her the same way Brandon did.

The boy seems cautious. Almost like he can’t trust that she’s just an awkward girl having an awkward but normal conversation. He leans back in his seat.

“Something worth having is something you have to take for yourself,” he says. “You can’t wait on some silver spoon toting douchebag’s go ahead. Most of these types will walk all over you without hesitation.”

The corners of her lips quirk. “Basically Mar Vista all over again.”

“Hey, you made it this far. Langston doesn’t even throw a backwards glance at average students so don’t knock what you’ve got,” he says, turning back to his phone.

“Thanks, um…” She looks pointedly at him and he just stares back. After a moment, he rises to his feet and grabs the jacket hanging on the back of his chair.

“Nope.”

The silence that follows feels like a punch to the gut.

“No…?” she slowly says.

“No need for it.” He slips the jacket on and zips it up. When he glances back at her, she slightly shifts away. “Go find your friend. I’m getting out of here.”

Before she can call out, he turns heel and walks off the porch into the night. People dodge out of his way pretty quickly on approach and she realizes that he walks tall, undeterred.

A few long minutes pass before she makes her way back through the house and back at Ingrid’s side. She shares a small smile and grabs Ingrid’s hand. Tatum regales another story of something his parents did but he had nothing to do with and all Deidre can think about is that weird boy with the leather jacket.

#playchoices #choices #rodaw #colt kaneko #colt x mc #ride or die #ride or die: a bad boy romance #rod appreciation week

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superfreakerz · 5 years ago

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TDDUP 30

“Til Death Do Us Part”

Rated M for smut and heavy themes.

Reincarnation/Immortality AU

Summary: There are immortals and there are those who reincarnate, but it’s best to keep these things hidden. Lucy is attending college and meets Natsu, a boy with pink hair, a devilish smile, and a body that never ages.

TW: SUICIDE

Chapter 30

Trip Down Memory Lane

Lucy poured herself some hot chocolate, the liquid sloshing around in her mug as she carried it over to the dining room table. Setting the drink aside so that it could cool down, the girl opened her laptop, quickly signing into her email account.

Three days had passed since she had visited Fairy Tail's basement and learned the history behind reincarnation. Since then, she was wary of leaving the house. Natsu hadn't even visited her once, obviously aware of her mood- for which she was thankful for. All she wanted was to be alone for a bit.

Lucy knew her thoughts were crazy. She knew that her friends, despite their overbearing skepticism, were good people. She knew that they would never hurt her.

And yet, a shiver ran up her spine every time she thought of Acnologia's mindset, wondering if her friends just so happened to feel the same way.

Ever since she learned about the connection between reincarnates and immortals, she couldn't help but be on edge around them. They had already proven themselves to be prejudiced against mortals, could anyone blame her for being worried? And if it wasn't her friends that were plotting to kill her, then perhaps the other immortals in the basement were.

The thought left her terrified of leaving the house. But after three days, she was starting to go crazy without seeing anyone, especially Natsu. She was grateful that he was kind enough to give her space when she needed. He sent her good morning and goodnight texts, but other than that, he left her alone to mull over her thoughts.

"I should go see him today," Lucy thought, bringing the mug to her lips and sipping on the chocolatey goodness. "It's not his fault that other immortals went crazy."

Natsu had been there for her through everything. He was there when she was sad, he was there when she was stressing over finals, and he was there when nobody else believed her about reincarnation. Through thick and thin, he was the one always at her side.

"I'll go to Fairy Tail later."

The only way to get over her irrational fear was to just deal with it headon. She had to get to know the others and make sure that they weren't like Acnologia. That was the only way she could put her negative thoughts to rest. But first, she had something else to do.

Lucy opened her thread of emails with Yukino. After learning that Fairy Tail was an organization built to support mortals, she had asked Natsu on her way home from the pub if there were other places like it. To her surprise, there were quite a few all over Fiore. If Yukino was like her, then she was tired of being alone with her secrets. She needed a group of people she could talk to. People who would somewhat understand.

Luckily, she had found out that there was an organization in Crocus where Yukino lived. It was a popular pub named Sabertooth, which must've brought in a lot of money for the immortals it housed.

Lucy's fingers moved hastily as she typed out a long explanation. She made sure not to leave a single detail out. She went on about the existence of immortals, the organizations, and the history behind Acnologia so that Yukino could decide for herself if she wanted to associate with the immortals. After re-reading the email to make sure she didn't forget anything, she pressed send before shutting the laptop. Chugging down the rest of her hot chocolate, she heaved a long sigh. It was time to get ready.

After throwing on a sweater and some leggings, Lucy shoved her feet into some knee-high boots before grabbing her keys and heading out the door. With winter's chill among her, the wind broke through the fabric of her sweater and chilled her to the bone. Quickening her pace, the girl practically jogged the rest of the way to Fairy Tail.

Once she arrived, she looked up at the grand double-doors. Her stomach churned, her fears of being around the immortals starting to kick in. Taking a deep breath, Lucy pictured Natsu's smiling face before swinging the doors open.

Heading over to the bar, she gave an uneasy smile to the familiar, purple-haired waitress, Kinana. She had learned from Natsu that she was also an immortal.

"Hi. Can I go see Natsu?" Lucy asked.

Kinana nodded, giving her a smile that helped calm her nerves. "Of course. You know where to find him."

Lucy thanked the other girl before stepping behind the counter and heading down the steps to the basement. Reaching the bottom, she nervously scanned the lounge for any of her friends. To her surprise, it was empty.

"Lucy?" a familiar voice called out. Turning to her left, she found Cana- the brunette who offered her a drink last time- sitting at the bar. The same bartender from before, the pretty silver-haired girl, was also there.

"Oh, uhh, hi," Lucy said with a small wave.

"Whatcha doin' here?" Cana asked, her eyes darting towards Mira. The bartender's hand slid over her own neck. Cana could hear her breathing grow heavy. She wondered if her friend would ever be able to be in the same room as an immortal without feeling suffocated. She doubted it. The scars of an immortal may heal on the outside, but they never do on the inside.

"I'm looking for Natsu and the others," Lucy answered, wringing her arms together. "Do you know where they are?"

"They're probably all in their rooms. I'll take ya to Natsu's room. C'mon."

Lucy thanked the brunette and nodded her head in goodbye to the bartender. The silver-haired girl gave her a weak smile, one that didn't reach her beautiful blue orbs.

Following Cana down a narrow hallway, Lucy took in every detail she could. The hallway was lined with doors on both sides.

"I don't know if Natsu explained our living situation to you," Cana said, catching the blonde's attention.

"He hasn't," Lucy replied. She was glad Cana was explaining things to her as they went.

"Well, boys and girls are split up. Boys are on the left, girls on the right. We have to share our rooms because there's limited space. Though, Gajeel's lucky and doesn't have to share until a newcomer comes along. I share a room with Juvia." She stopped just outside a door. "Anyways, tours over. This is Natsu's room."

"Oh. Thank you, Cana. You've been really kind to me."

"Don't mention it," the other girl said, taking a swig of alcohol. Rubbing the back of her head, she continued, "And I'm sorry if I came off kinda on-edge the other night. I didn't know that you're sorta kinda like us."

"Don't worry. Like I said, you've been really kind to me!"

With a smile, Lucy waved to the brunette before knocking on Natsu's door. In seconds, it swung open to reveal Gray, only in his boxers.

"Lucy?" he said.

"Did you say Lucy!?"

In the blink of an eye, Gray was shoved to the side, Natsu pushing his way to see her. Lucy giggled at his excitement, though a twinge of guilt ebbed at her knowing that he was only so excited to see her because she had been avoiding him the past few days.

"Hi, Natsu," she greeted.

"W-What are you doing here?" Natsu asked, his mouth parted. He wasn't expecting to see her so soon. After everything they learned, he figured she would never set foot in the home of the immortals again.

Lucy nudged him. "What? I'm not allowed to visit my boyfriend? You invite yourself into my home, it's time to return the favor."

Walking past him, Lucy studied the room, her cheeks dusted pink. It was her first time in a boy's room before. To her surprise, the place was a lot cleaner than she'd expect considering it was Natsu's. There were two beds pushed on opposite corners of the room. On one half of the room, there were band posters tacked to the wall and random mementos and picture frames. It was easy to tell it was Natsu's side. On the other side were only a couple of pictures of Gray and Juvia and people who resembled Gray. She had a feeling it was his family.

"So this is where you live," Lucy said, making her way to his bed. Plopping onto it, she grinned at her boyfriend. "It's a lot cleaner than I thought it would be."

"That's because of Erza," Natsu replied, a shiver running down his back. "She does random room checks to make sure everyone's rooms are in order. If they aren't…"

"I think I have a feeling what happens."

Lucy glanced at Natsu's nightstand, finding picture frames sitting on top. Grabbing one, a wide smile settled over her face as she quickly recognized it. It was the first picture they took together downtown, the one that she had set as his contact photo. She never knew that he had it printed out and framed by his bed.

Gently placing the picture frame back, she picked up another. This one was full of the Fairy Tail immortals, along with Makarov. There was also a young girl standing in the front, her hair long enough to reach her ankles and falling in blonde waves. Lucy couldn't recognize her.

"That's Mavis," Natsu said, following her gaze. "She's the one that made Fairy Tail!"

"And one of the oldest known immortals, right?"

"Yep! I'm sure you'll meet her one day!"

"I hope so." Lucy placed the frame back, grabbing the last one from the nightstand. It was one of Natsu when he was younger, in his teens it appeared. His hair was a bit shorter back then and his face had some more weight to it, but it was the same Natsu she knew and loved. Next to him was a man with red hair darker than Erza's. His eyes were a light brown, almost appearing golden in the sun.

"That's my dad," Natsu said, a small smile gracing his face. His hand tugged on the ends of his scarf.

"I can tell just from this picture how great of a father he was," Lucy replied. She reached out towards him and gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

"Yeah, he was."

"Did he know that you're an immortal?"

"Nah, he died before I even found out. What about you? Does your dad know that you reincarnate?"

"Oh hell no," Lucy replied quickly, shaking her head. "None of my parents in any lifetime know that I reincarnate."

Natsu cocked his head to the side. "How many parents have you had?"

"I'm on my fourth lifetime, so four different sets."

A wide grin settled over the boy's face. "I still can't believe you reincarnate! That's crazy!"

"I can't believe it either," Gray said from over on his bed. Admittedly, Lucy had forgotten he was there.

"You're telling me. I still can't believe you guys are immortal! I have had so many questions floating around in my head ever since I found out!" Lucy exclaimed.

"Then ask away. I promised I would answer all of your questions the night Natsu was shot," Gray replied.

Natsu jumped up from the bed. "Let me go get everyone first! I know they all wanna see you. Especially Levy. She's been mopin' around the past three days."

"Oh like you haven't been?" Gray teased.

Natsu glared at him before heading out the room to gather the rest of the immortals. Meanwhile, Gray turned his attention back towards Lucy.

"So, how ya holdin' up?" he asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you've been avoiding us ever since you found out about Acnologia. I take it you're scared?"

"Can you blame me?"

"Nah, I can't. But don't worry, we won't let that happen to you."

The corners of Lucy's lips tugged upwards into a smile. "Yeah, I know. Thank you."

Gray opened his mouth to reply when suddenly, a flash of blue crossed Lucy's face and she found herself tackled back onto the bed. She didn't have to lift her head to know who it was clutching at her as if life depended on it.

"Hi, Levy-chan," Lucy greeted, smoothing a hand over the other girl's head.

"I missed you, Lu-chan! You didn't return any of my texts!" Levy replied, lifting herself off the blonde so that she could get up.

"Yeah, I know. A lot of stuff was on my mind. But I'm here now, right?"

"Right!"

Lucy glanced towards the door as she heard Natsu and the others stepping inside. She was surprised to find Cana and Mira among them.

"Heard you wanna learn about the immortals," Cana said, leaning against the wall beside Mira. "That's good, 'cos I wanna know about reincarnation. Ask away!"

Lucy cupped her chin in thought. She had so many questions she wanted to ask, but now that she was put on the spot, she was having trouble remembering all of them.

"Oh, okay," she said as one question popped into her head. "Were you guys always immortal? Or did you do some ritual?"

"Believe me, nobody would do a ritual for this curse if they knew what it meant," Cana answered. "Really, nobody knows the real answer. At the beginning of our lives, we grew and aged, so maybe we weren't an immortal then. Or, maybe we were born immortal and it just didn't kick in until our death day. Nobody knows for sure."

"Death day? What's that?"

Levy chimed in, "It's the approximate age in which we assume we stopped aging. So for us, our death day is in our early twenties. For our first Master, Mavis, she stopped aging in her mid-teens, so that's when her death day is."

Lucy's mouth parted as she took in the information. She was horrified while learning about reincarnation, but the lore of immortality was interesting.

"So if Cana is the oldest of all you, who is the youngest?"

"That would be me," Levy answered with a laugh. "It goes Cana, Gray, Erza and Jellal, Gajeel, Juvia, Natsu, Mira, then me."

Lucy gave a smug grin, playfully nudging Natsu. "Aww, you're one of the babies of the group!"

He crossed his arms with a glare. "Shut up."

A laugh bubbled up to her lips before she returned her attention to Levy. "So, how did you guys find out about Fairy Tail?"

"We were all recruited," Levy answered. "Last time you were here, Master brought up that there are government officials affiliated with immortals. Their presence is top secret and only known by higher-ups. They are how organizations like Fairy Tail exist, and they're also the reason immortals get a small allowance from the government. Beyond that, they also do extensive research to find more immortals. There have been times when they found out who was immortal before the immortal themself was fully aware."

"That happened with me," Natsu added. "I knew somethin' was up, but I didn't know it was immortality until Gramps found me and told me about it."

"Exactly. So, the affiliates send us the information on the immortal and we go recruit them. That, or we somehow stumble upon them ourselves." Lucy nodded slowly, still trying to process everything. It was a lot to take in. Recruitment, government affiliates, immortality. Who knew all of this was happening and the rest of the world had no idea?

There was one question left that was still bugging Lucy, but she didn't know if it was insensitive to ask.

"You want to ask us something, don't you?" Erza asked, a knowing smile planted on her face. "I can see the curiosity written all over your face."

Lucy rubbed the back of her head with an awkward chuckle. "Oh, yeah. But it's okay! I don't need to know!"

"No, no, c'mon," Gray insisted. "I said I would answer your questions. What is it?"

"Well, I guess I was just wondering if there was an extent to your immortality. Like, what happens if an immortal cuts off their own head?"

A shiver ran up the group's spines just picturing it.

"Well, believe it or not, that sort of thing has happened many times," Jellal answered for the group. "Most immortals discovering their immortality get curious to see the limits. Or sometimes, they really want their life to end so that they can be reunited with the loved ones they lost throughout the years. Either way, there is always an experimentation phase. Whether it is a simple prick on the finger or decapitation, people are always trying to figure it out. I don't think you really want to know what happens if someone cuts off their own head, but I can assure you that they will live."

"You wanna see it?" Natsu asked.

Lucy whipped her head towards the boy. "What?"

"Do you wanna see it?" he repeated as if it were normal. "The healing process, I mean."

Without waiting for her to answer, he grabbed his lighter. He held his hand out in front of him, the fire dancing just below his fingertips. Keeping his eyes trained on Lucy, he slowly moved the fire up to his hand, allowing it to wash over his skin. At first it didn't hurt. It was a comforting warmth that he had gotten used to over the many accidents he had playing with fire. But ten seconds in, the warmth turned to scorching pain.

Lucy's hands flew up to her mouth as she forced herself to watch. Natsu's fingertips were blackened by the fire. Glancing up at him, she found tears in the corners of his eyes. The hand he used to hold the lighter was trembling.

"O-Okay! I get it, you can stop now, Natsu!" Lucy said, snatching the lighter away from him. Jellal's explanation of the experimentation phase that immortals went through rang in Lucy's mind. She had a feeling that fire was how Natsu proved his immortality to himself.

"Watch," Natsu said, holding his damaged fingers in front of Lucy's face. His skin was cracked and raw, but within seconds, the regeneration began.

Lucy gasped as the cracks in Natsu's fingers began to smoothen out and the normal color in his fingers returned. It was a much faster process than when Natsu was shot. It must've been because his body had to reject the bullet before it could start healing.

"See?" Natsu said, a wide grin on his face as he shook his fully-healed hand.

Lucy slapped him upside the head. "Yes, I see it! Don't do that again! Even though I know you can heal, I still don't like seeing you hurt!"

Natsu nodded, but the smile on his face remained. It felt nice showing Lucy all of this, and telling her about immortality. As close as he was to Lucy before, it was nowhere near how close he felt to her now. It was like he could finally open up completely to her.

Lucy smiled, her eyes glazing over her friends. It felt nice to hang out with them again. There weren't any secrets or lies, just people hanging out.

Her gaze then landed on Mira. The girl hadn't said a thing since coming into the room. Her lips were pulled into a small smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. As if feeling her stare, Mira glanced at her.

And that was when Lucy finally saw it.

Horror etched the other girl's face in the second that they shared eye contact before Mira pointed her gaze at the floor and brought a shaky hand up to her neck. She was scared of her. But why?

"Enough about all this crap," Gajeel said, catching her attention. "It's your turn to explain reincarnation."

"Yes!" Levy exclaimed. "I've been dying to ask you about it!"

Lucy shrugged. "Okay. Then ask away!"

Immediately, they all voiced the same question.

"What's death like?"

Clearly it was something on their mind considering it was something they couldn't experience no matter how hard they tried. Hell, even normal mortals wondered what death was like.

Lucy shrugged again. "I don't know what it's like for normal mortals, but for me, there's not much to discuss. There's no pearly white gates of Heaven or walking around as a ghost. There's the event that causes death, a moment where everything goes black, and then a flash of bright light as I'm being reborn in a hospital room."

"And you retain all of your memories?" Erza questioned.

"Yep. Which is what makes it horrible."

"Horrible?" Gajeel asked. "Hell, reincarnating sounds like a walk in the park compared to immortality! You get to die and be reborn with a fresh start every time! It's easy!"

Lucy's hands fumbled with the hem of her sweater. "I wouldn't say it's easy… Think of it this way. You're a normal kid in a loving family. You have lots of friends, a nice job lined up, and then all of the sudden you die."

"Still sounds better than having to live forever and watching your family die."

"Okay, well imagine being reborn into a new family. You have no idea what's going on, you have no idea who these people are, all you know is that you can't stop thinking about your old family. You wonder what happened. You look them up and find out that they're still alive, but you can't do anything about it because you're born in the same body every time. Everyone would recognize you and probably burn you at the stake. So, you're stuck in a house of strangers that are supposed to be your parents. Except they aren't. Not to you. You can't love them the way you're supposed to because you feel like you're betraying your first family."

Natsu's brows twitched upwards, his eyes narrowing in thought. There was something about those words that seemed so familiar. His eyes darted to Lucy's hands, which were balled into tight fists trembling in her lap. Then it hit him.

"Is that what you were talking about that time at your apartment?" Natsu asked.

Lucy faced him, tilting her head innocently to the side. "When?"

"The first time we came over. We were playing truth or dare and Gajeel asked you what the worst thing you ever did was. You said you isolated yourself from your parents and your mom got sick."

Lucy took a sharp breath, the memories of her second life playing in her head. "Oh. Yeah. That's what happened with my second set of parents. After that, I felt so bad that I at least tried to pretend to love them."

Gajeel scratched the back of his head. "I guess when you put it that way, reincarnation ain't all that fun either."

Lucy shook her head, a dry laugh escaping her lips. "No, no it isn't. But that's why I'm glad I met you guys. You might not understand reincarnation, and I might not understand immortality, but we all know what it's like trying to hide who you are from everyone else. And I am so tired of hiding it."

Levy wrapped her arms around the blonde. A warm smile graced her face as she said, "You'll never have to hide around us anymore!"

As the group went silent, Lucy thought that the questioning was over. That is, until Cana spoke.

"I have a question," the brunette stated. "You don't hafta answer or anything, I was just kinda curious."

"What is it?" Lucy asked.

"You said that you're on your fourth lifetime right now, so that means you've died three times. How did you die?"

Lucy's stomach immediately dropped to the floor as panic washed over her. She really should've known that someone was going to ask that question. Who wouldn't?

Swallowing thickly, the girl tried to calm her nerves. Her stomach continued to do flips while her hands shook in her lap. It wasn't until a warm hand slid into hers that she was able to slow her breathing down to a steady pace.

Glancing up at Natsu, she found him staring right back at her, concern lacing his onyx orbs. She could tell by the look he was giving her that she didn't need to answer if she didn't want to. And yet, her mouth opened to speak.

"Well, two of the three were car accidents. I guess I wasn't the best driver," Lucy answered, followed by a weak chuckle. "That's why I'm not too big on driving anymore. In case you're wondering, it didn't hurt at all. It happened so fast that I didn't even know I died until I was born again."

"What about the other time?" Juvia asked.

Lucy's hand slowly moved up to her neck, softly grazing the sensitive skin as she recalled what happened. The memory was so vivid in her mind it was like it happened only yesterday.

She took a deep breath, followed by another. It was an innocent question. Lucy knew that. They were only curious, they didn't mean to bring up any bad memories.

"W-Well…" she choked out. Her throat tightened as if trying to snuff out the words that were on the tip of her tongue. "My second lifetime was kind of rough. It was my first time reincarnating. I was confused, angry… I told you how I felt about my parents and friends. I was alone. All I wanted was to forget the past that I couldn't have anymore." Hot tears pricked the backs of Lucy's eyes but she blinked them back. "I didn't want to be alive. I didn't want to be reincarnated. I just…"

A gasp caught Lucy's attention. Turning towards the source, she found Levy with her hands covering her mouth.

"Oh, Lu-chan… Tell me you didn't." she whispered.

Lucy nodded weakly. "Yeah, I did. I figured that my reincarnation was a fluke. A one time mistake. I figured that if I died again, it would be for real this time. I got back home from school one day. I'd been planning it for a while. I don't know what made me choose that day specifically, but it seemed right. My parents were still at work. I went to my room, grabbed the rope that I stole from the shed, and... And tied it to the ceiling fan. I-I'm sure you can figure out how I died from there."

Her hands brushed against her neck again. It was like she could still feel the loose threads of the rope scratching her throat. She could still remember what it felt like when her lungs started to burn. She could remember kicking, trying to relieve some of her body's pain. And she could still remember when her eyes finally started to droop closed, the energy in her body drained as she dangled there alone before succumbing to the darkness.

Lucy kept her gaze trained on the bed. She could feel everyone's stares on her, but she ignored them, too scared to make eye contact. Her stomach was doing flips, and she felt like she could vomit at any second.

It wasn't until Gray cleared his throat that Lucy finally glanced up.

Cana rubbed the back of her head. "I'm sorry for makin' you relive that experience. It was insensitive of me to ask that."

Lucy shook her head. "No, don't worry. I know that you were just curious. I'm the one who made the mistake."

"Well… maybe we should take a break from all the questions," Gray said. "We've been sitting here for a while. And it's not like we don't have time to ask questions later."

"Gray's right," Erza agreed, nodding her head. She could see through his attempt at lightening the mood and wanted nothing more than to help. "Shall we go get some food?"

"You guys go ahead," Natsu said. "We'll catch up with you."

Lucy glanced towards the boy. His usual carefree grin was nowhere to be found, instead in its place a blank expression. Squirming uncomfortably in her seat, she watched as the rest of their friends filed out of the room, leaving them all alone.

At first, they just sat there. They didn't look at each other, they didn't say a word. Lucy stared at Natsu, waiting for him to speak. She could practically see the cogs turning in his head as he thought of what to say, as if choosing his words carefully. Finally, it seemed he found the words to say as he whipped his head towards her.

"I'm not gonna ask you about it," Natsu said, his expression serious. Gently squeezing her hand, he continued, "When you're ready to talk about it, I'm right here. But you should know I'm gonna spend the rest of eternity makin' sure that you never feel like you hafta do that again."

Lucy gave a weak chuckle. "Rest of eternity? Do I need to remind you you're an immortal? You'll actually be alive for the rest of eternity, so you probably shouldn't joke-"

"I mean it, Lucy. I'll be there the rest of eternity."

And just like that, the dam broke.

Hot tears welled in Lucy's eyes and spilled down her cheeks before she even had the chance to blink them back. Throwing herself against Natsu, she buried her face in his chest. She didn't know how loud she was as she wailed and she didn't care. All she cared about was holding Natsu close because she knew that in the many lifetimes to come, she would never find someone as important to her as Natsu was.

Natsu ran his fingers through her golden locks. Every strand felt like silk against his skin. With his other hand, he softly rubbed her back until she eventually stopped crying.

Sniffling, Lucy pulled away from him and wiped her face with the back of her sleeve.

"I love you, Natsu," she said, only able to muster up a whisper.

Natsu smiled down at her and wiped a stray tear from her face that she missed. "I love you too, Luce."

#fairy tail #nalu #lucy heartfilia #natsu dragneel #ftfanficton #nalu fanfiction #tddup #til death do us part #super writes

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actualhumansunshine · 4 years ago

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We could be reinforcing each other's projections but I'm also concerned that he's out of life/work balance atm. I know you can't force creativity and when you do the results are usually not good. But you nailed it with the concern that it feels like he's walked away because it's not pouring out like it does with a broken heart, instead of getting out of his comfort zone and not writing about romantic relationships. He can't tour on the back of old material so everything's at a standstill. 1/2

2/2 When he had writing problems in early 2017, he talked about pushing through it. You keep writing shite until you come up with something good, many bad songs for every good one. That's not the sense I'm getting now. Even the caption when he was at the piano "here goes nothing." It's like he just gave up. :/ Sometimes you need some perfectionism and ambition to give you that fire. It's possible to be too chill.

exactly!! earlier in lockdown, i think it was during an interview(?) where he was talking about writing and said something along the lines of if he wrote even one good song during this time, lockdown would be considered a success for him. tbh it almost feels like he’s gotten stuck in that mindset and is overall very “if it happens it happens, but if it doesn’t it doesn’t 🤷‍♀️” now without putting much actual time or effort into trying to make something happen. and of course you can’t force creativity, but i also don’t think you can expect it to smack you square in the face out of nowhere?? and that goes double when you’re trying to push yourself beyond your own limits and go outside your comfort zone, because things might not come quite as easily or naturally in those situations as they do when pouring out your heart like a diary entry, you know?

#i don't want to draw out this conversation much longer #cause it's just gonna end up either going in circles or with tons of anon rabbit trails i didn't sign up for #but anyways #i just wish we knew more about what he's actual up to and what his mindset is :/#nh3 chats #intel anon: hit me with it 👀#answered #anonymous

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venushasvixens · 5 years ago

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More Than a Maid - Phantom Manor Pt. 3

Keeping Ravenswood Manor tidy and presentable is hard work. Chamber maid Anna has kept to a strict schedule ever since she had started working at the manor for a number of years. Back then, it was just her and her brother, Jasper, taking care of the family and the manor. Over the years, Thunder Mesa had boomed, and so did the number of jobs. Yes, cleaning and cooking for a living seemed a little low for others, but for her, the pay was just more than money.

Having been accepted for the job for extra help for then baby Melanie, Anne came into the manor with the mindset that she was going to be working for a bunch of uptight snobs. She can clearly remember her first day of work. Jasper was still awaiting news from Mr. Ravenswood for the groundskeeper job, one that would suit him very well. Prepared for the worse, she was certainly taken aback from Martha Ravenswood warm welcome.

“Welcome, darling!” Martha exclaimed, beckoning Anna into the foyer. “Me and Henry are very happy that you’re here!”

“O-of course, Mrs. Ravenswood.” she stuttered, anxious about her first impression.

“Oh please, call me Ms. Martha. Ravenswood does sound a little demeaning, doesn’t it? And I am most definitely the least demeaning person here.” she closed the door behind Anna. “But I do say, wait for the intimidation to show up, he’s just coming in from a meeting.”

“I-i’m very pleased to be here.” Anna said, her grip on her bag loosening.

“As am I. Did the work agency let you know of little Melanie?” Martha questioned, motioning Anna to follow.

“U-uh, yes! I have had plenty of experience with little ones. Especially the little rowdy children.” Anna said.

Martha laughed. “They can be a bit of pain, yes?” she said, walking into the kitchen.

“Oh, but not my Melanie. I swear, I’ve never seen a baby sleep so soundly. Please do sit. ”

“Just like that? It usually takes a bottle and a bit of playtime.” Anna said as she sat down, setting her suitcase on her side.

Martha nodded. “The second I put her down in her cradle and she is snoring in no time. It must be the magic of the land the manor is built on that does that.” she chuckled lightly.

“Magic?” Anna enquired.

“I know it sounds mad, but it's true. There is something about this land that has a certain enchantment to it. It was almost like it was called to Henry, like it wanted us here.” Martha said. “Oh well, enough about that! Let me show you around!”

“And finally, the last spot of the grand tour, is Henry’s office.” Martha pushed the doors wide open, a gush of air hitting Anna in the face.

“Oh my, so many books.” Anna awed, clasping her hands together.

“You needn’t worry about cleaning those, he always has one of them in his hand.” Martha said, picking up a book. “One reason I accepted his proposal, he is a smart man. Smart enough to marry a lovely lady like me.” She smiled, poofing up her curly bun.

Anna laughed. “A smart man, indeed.”

The sound of the front doors closing alerted Martha.

“Henry, we’re up here!” Martha turned to Anna,”If he seems a bit curt with you, he is just tired, nothing personal.”

“A bit personal if you are in my study, touching my things.” he spoke back from the stairs.

Anna had impressed Martha, and now it was time for the man of the house. Would he be tough but fair, or rude and demeaning? The doors to the study opened, and in walked Henry.

The man had his small case in hand, a bit of a jaunt in his step. He placed it down on the ground and set his hat on his desk. He gave Martha a small peck on the cheek.

“You could’ve greeted me in the parlor.” he said quietly, still waiting to acknowledge Anna. “You know how I love to see your sweet face after a long day.”

“Oh how flattering. Darling, this is Anna Jones, our new chambermaid.” she said, placing her hand on Anna’s back.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.” Anna said, sticking her hand out for a handshake. Henry’s gaze met Anna’s, his dark eyes staring straight into her soul. Anna noticed the small tremble in her hand, relaxing before anyone could notice.

“Pleasure’s all mine, Ms. Jones.” Henry said, gently taking Anna’s hand into both of his, and shaking it. “I’ve heard good things about you. And I trust you met my Melanie?”

“Yes sir. But I’m afraid that she’s asleep.” Anna replied.

“Oh let me go get her. I’ll tell you, she has the prettiest eyes anyone has ever seen.” Henry hurried out of the room, Martha following him.

“Sweetest, don’t wake the baby, she’s napping!” Martha’s voice trailed off down the hallway.

Shifting where she stood, Anna looked around the room. She noticed just how neat the room looked. There really was no need to tidy this room. From the top of the drapes, to never used before fireplace, not a speck of dust. It was still beautiful though, the deep mahogany furnishing reaching into the ceiling. Anna walked over to the huge windows, looking at a perfect view of the gardens. The workers outside were planting rose bushes, as well as some baby trees. How nice it is to be rich, Anna thought.

“Here she is! My pride and joy.” Henry announced, holding Melanie tenderly in his arms. “Melanie, my flower, wake up.” he gently nudged her.

The little baby sleepily opened her eyes, yawning. She looked around the room, her eyes growing just a little wider in bewilderment, cooing.

“Always so surprised, she is.” Martha said, rubbing the back of Melanie’s head.

“Curious is the word I’m looking for, just like her father.” Henry replied, taking Melanie over to the windows by Anna. He lifted her in the air, making silly noises. Melanie giggled, reaching towards her father.

“Look Melanie!” Martha pointed to Anna, “that’s your new friend!”

Anna smiled at Melanie, smiling and giving a tiny wave to her. The baby looked at her new friend, her eyes widening further. Henry moved closer to her.

“She’ll learn to like you, I promise.” he said. “She just has to warm up-”

Suddenly, Melanie reached out, wanting to be held by her, her tiny hands trying to grab onto Anna.

“Oh nevermind.” Henry chuckled, passing her over. “Well that was quick.”

Melanie’s head laid softly on Anna’s shoulder, cuddling into her, a small smile spread across her small face. Anna laughed quietly, patting her on the back.

“That is certainly a good sign.” Martha beamed, “Welcome to the manor, Anna.”

Smiling at the memory, Anna finished preparing the afternoon tea for Mr. Ravenswood. She quickly placed the sugar and creamer on the tray, and made her way up to the study. Mrs. Ravenswood was in town with Melanie shopping, and wouldn’t be back for some time. That and to get away from Mr. Ravenswood.

With a boom in Thunder Mesa, Henry was very, very, stressed. And with stress, came frustration and anger. It could be as simple as a spoon falling and the man would blow his top. Anna did try her best to steer clear of his tantrums, and it worked pretty well. That was because she brought him food, which calmed him some.

“You saved my life again, Ms. Jones, thank you.” he would say every time she came in with his meals. It was a bit odd though. He wasn’t very nice to the other house staff, excluding Jasper. Henry would always ask for Anna, even when she was terribly busy with cleaning or cooking. Did it feel nice to be always called on? A little, yes. Meant she wasn’t being forgotten underneath the growing number of workers in the house.

Making her way up to the top of the stairs, she felt the cool breeze of the study doors opening.

“Ah, there you are! I’ve been waiting for you.” Henry said, his arms crossed.

“I’m so sorry, sir. It won’t happen again.” Anna said, rushing into the room. She quickly placed the tea tray on the side of the desk.

“It's alright, just a bit quiet and lonesome today.” Henry replied, chuckling. “With all this business cooling down some today, I got a little used to the noise.”

“Me as well, I’m missing it. I’ll say this now, and just wait, it’ll come back tenfold.” Anna smiled, pouring a cup.

It got a bit quiet after, and a little awkward. She expected Ravenswood to say something back, but he didn’t. He walked back to his desk, rearranging paperwork and tidying up. The quicker she placed his afternoon snack and drink, the sooner she could go back and relax. When he was alone like this, it felt okay to make conversation, but with Martha? Absolutely not. It felt like she was intruding on their time together, even when she was cleaning. Anna had never been married, just courted. She didn’t have time for love either. It was sad to say that her work consumed her life. Did she want what they had, the safety and love of having a partner to get through the hardships of living? Yes. She wished for it everyday. But it wasn’t written in the stars for her.

“Anna, can I ask you something?” Henry said, his deep voice making her jump.

“Yes sir?” Anna turned around, her hands folded.

Henry looked down, twiddling with his pen. It was a bit out of character for him to do that. The great businessman known as Henry Ravenswood, strong and stern, twiddling and fidgeting before the house maid.

“Do you know why I always call on you?” he mumbled, his eyes fixated on the pen.

Anna thought for a moment. “Because I know how you like your tea.” She placed the cup on the desk.

He chuckled. “That was close. But its because..” Ravenswood got up, and slowly headed over to Anna.

“Now promise me you won’t tell anyone I said this, but its because you’re different from the others. You know how to carry on in a subject, and how to improve it. You give me a laugh with your wits. It brings me some peace to my hectic mind. Martha can’t really do any of that with me. Its like I always offend her in some way, or she just doesn’t understand what I say.” he confessed.

Anna was very surprised by this. It seemed they got along well, but it looks like they didn’t. It warmed her heart. She brought him something to put his mind at ease.

“Including that and you’re just so..” Taking a step closer, he glanced at Anna, and anywhere else but her eyes. “So beautiful.”

“T-thank you sir, I’m flattered.” Anna said shakingly, both scared and happy at his comment. She dug her nails into her hands.

“I swear, when I first saw you, I thought I might had seen an angel, radiating a breath of fresh air into my home.” he said lowly. “How can I be so sure you’re not a vision?”

Blushing, Anna extended her hand. “You can shake it. I’m flesh and blood, I promise.” she smiled.

Henry looked at her hand, a blank expression covered his face. It seemed like an eternity before he took her hand into his. Instead of shaking it, he gently took the knuckles of her hand, and kissed it gingerly. It was as if he was afraid she was going to burst into a thousand pieces, like she was going to break.

“You’re real.” he whispered, rubbing the spot where he kissed. “I can attest to it.”

Anna gave a small laugh, Henry smiling. They both built up the courage to look at each other, their fears starting to slip away.

“W-well, I believe I must go back to work.” Anna headed to the door, fiddling with her apron. “Is there anything you may need before I go, sir?”

Henry sighed, looking around. She glanced at his desk, then at the door, and finally at him. He took cautious steps towards her, his hand lifting her chin. Anna looked into his eyes, watching his expressions change in a matter of seconds, not deciding on which face it did. Slowly, he leaned down, his lips meeting Anna’s. She closed her eyes, kissing him back. She could stay like this, had it not been for her heart pounding in her chest and the threat of someone walking in. He pulled back, his touch leaving her. A bit disappointed, he walked back to his desk, sitting down.

“I believe I have everything I want, thank you, Ms. Jones.” Henry smiled.

Anna smiled back, and opened the door. Closing it behind her, she stood on the other side for a moment. She wanted to savor it, live in it just a while longer. Happy with her new secret, she giddily walked down the stairs. She giggled like a school girl who had received her first kiss. A sense of thrill ran through her arms and legs, getting ready to zap out of her fingertips. I want more, she thought. More of his embrace, of his presence. But at the same time, it felt wrong. That was her boss, a married man. She did not contribute to that marriage or to raising Melanie. Oh what if Martha found out? Melanie could’ve walked in on that. She would destroy a union, and traumatized their most prized possession. Another part of her said, who cares? As long as she kept it a secret, there would be no harm done. Easy as that.

She was so distracted, she didn’t even notice Jasper sitting at the kitchen table. He was frowning, sweat dripping off of him.

“Oh hello! How was work outside? Do you want a nibble of something or maybe some water-”

“What did you do?” he cut her off. Anna froze. Suddenly, she remembered. Those wide windows of the manor looking into the gardens where Jasper worked, large enough to see the ongoings of Ravenswood’s study. Its not much of a little secret anymore. Damn.

“Anna, what did you do?”

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cilliansaccent · 5 years ago

Text

The Peaky Designer - Cillian Fanfic, Chapter 9

Hello, welcome back. Below is the next instalment of my fanfiction!

Leave a like or a comment if you liked it, or if I can do anything better! Please, it would mean the world and to understand if anyone is enjoying my writing. Also, sharing/reblogging would be even better.

PLEASE READ:

I will not be including Cillian’s family as it’s kinda weird since he has children lmao. Just a mention of his parents and a previous lover.

I will indicate in a chapter if there is smut in the beginning and before the actual scene!!

I will add trigger warnings if there is any!!

There is a variety of levels of swearing during a chapter, I will not hold back, everyone swears.

The timestamp for the Fic is now 2016 and onwards!!

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Background: Gabrijela Babic is a Croatian girl from Sydney, Australia. She is born in the year 1991 on the 24th of December. She studies a Fashion degree in a University with a major in Game Design as well. Her teacher in the fashion designer class managed to nail an Internship on the set of Peaky Blinders with the shows very own Costume Designer, Allison McCosh. There, she travels to London for under a year to learn how to be one, working alongside the actors as well the man she admires, Cillian Murphy. But, her platonic feelings for the man begins to grow into something more, and she wonders whether she should pursue them or let him go for fear of her strict parents and her three older brothers…

Characters:

Swantje Paulina as Gabrijela Babic (swalina on Instagram)

Cillian Murphy

Word Count: 2,928

!!Warnings!!: None.

Date: August to December 2016

Chapter Name: ...And Cruel.

Brief Chapter Outline: Gabrijela hangs out with her bestie for the next four weeks, having a great time. But at a Christmas Party, all of that good joy and happiness shatters to pain and heartache...

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By morning, Gabrijela called up Lucia and called her over for breakfast. She was there in less than fifteen minutes and she let the girl up. Gabrijela had already finished cooking, "Goodness, does it smell good." Lucia smiled and hugged her. "Thanks. Been practising." She smiled. She had cooked up eggs, bacon, mushrooms and pancakes were wrapped up in foil to be kept warm. They ate in silence and Lucia helped her clean up once they were done. Then when they had their hot cocoa they sat at the couch together, "I need to ask you something." Gabrijela started.

"I know. Yesterday," Lucia sighed, looking down at her cup then back up. "I want to apologise for that. I was being mean and rude, no other reason." Gabrijela nodded, "Logan didn't feel comfortable at all. And neither did I, especially with that last comment you made about whether this lasting or not." She frowned, "That hurt." Lucia reached over and took her hand, "And I am deeply sorry for that. Let me make it up to you." Gabrijela smiled a little, "Alright. You can totally make it up to me." After that day, the girls spent each day together. They did plenty of shopping, Lucia was a bad influence when it came to shopping and Gabrijela had to watch her spending even if she had a lot of money still. They did the usual tourist things, Buckingham Palace, the London Eye and all that. Bought souvenirs for home and their friends and went on organised tours. Gabrijela had learned Lucia was here for a break of University. She had stated it was too hectic and would be here till early December. Lucia planned to stay here for a month, then return to Spain to see her extended family before she would come back here and spend the two last weeks with Gabrijela in December It seemed odd, Gabrijela thought but she didn't care. She had her best friend here with her. So the next few weeks were busy, Gabbie balancing out her new work and life with Lucia. Clubbing, getting wasted over the weekends and having the absolute fun. Logan had occasionally tagged along with some of his mates, which was fine but Gab couldn't get a little overprotective. Especially when Lucia always eyed him like a meal. But she didn't pay much attention to it, Lucia wouldn't hurt her like that. Overall, Gabrijela had missed her best friend a lot, missed just being herself and acting like a bunch of mad women laughing and all that. It was good to let go but she still kept in mind she was with Logan and kept herself distanced from any men who tried to hit on her. As the months wore on, Gabrijela was busy working away. She had a good balance of her work and romance with Logan. She was happy finally, and even got to see Cillian almost every week. Just either dinner or coffee or catching a film together. Life for her was good. She was in a good mindset after so, so long being in darkness. By December, after long hard working through her new work and being with Logan for almost five months now, Logan had organised a small Christmas Party on Saturday for his buddies from work, so Gabrijela brought Lucia along before she was to fly out in two days. The pub was decked out in Christmas decorations and a live band played classic Christmas music that made it warm and cozy despite the cold temperature. Gab had changed into a mini tube skirt with an ugly Christmas sweater on top. It was the theme for tonight and Logan had an equally ugly sweater. "And yet you still look so delicious." Gab grinned up at him and they kissed. "I always look good in everything." He said, keeping an arm around her waist. "That's true." She nodded and they joined the group of friends. Lucia was chatting with a guy, clearly, she was trying to see if he could go home with her. The night dragged on, people danced and drank and drank and... drank. Gabrijela was talking to some of the girls outside and decided to head back in with them as it started to rain. But she wasn't feeling tonight, Logan had been... off the whole time. Even when they had met up during the week. Especially when Lucia was around. "Where is Logan?" She asked one of his mates. "Gone to take a piss." He replied. Gabrijela nodded, but her senses or whatever you called it was telling her something was up. Everything was wrong tonight. So she headed to the toilets, she was slightly shaking as anxiety rolled through her. She didn't want another attack, she hadn't had one for a long time and that was during and after the messy break-up with her ex. Some girls were laughing as they left the female toilets, "Fucking disgusting huh? Can't fucking shit in peace with that noise." Gab watched them go and could hear something inside despite the loud music. As she walked in the sounds were... muffled, soft moans came from the last stall. She could see the shadows below it. As she neared she heard it, "Logan." A soft female voice she knew too well. But she wanted it to be untrue and she pushed the door open which was unlocked. "Hey! Someone is-" When the door opened she saw Lucia and Logan. His pants at his ankles and her legs around his waist. It was exactly how Lucia had explained to her how she found her ex with a woman. "Gabrijela." Lucia hastily fixed her skirt as Logan fixed his pants, "I-I'm so sorry. Oh god Gabbie." "No." She snapped, tears falling down her cheeks, "No! You don't get to fucking call me that! You don't!" She screamed. "Please, baby, fuck I-I'm sorry she just-" "You shut the fuck up. Just shut up." She whimpered, her heart was ripping to pieces. She felt the darkness of her pain swallowing her up once more. "Oh, my god. Oh, my god." She repeated, running her fingers through her hair, gripping the strands. She paced around, "Fuck, what is wrong with me huh? Huh? I-Is there something wrong? What don't you like about me? A-Am I to fat? Do I have to small size breasts?" She looked at Logan, "WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?" She screamed in absolute pain. Logan looked away, regret in his features. "Fucking trusted you. I opened my heart to you. I let you in." Her voice dropped into a broken whisper. "You cheated on me. How long huh? How long?" She looked at Lucia. "Tell me, how fucking long have you two been messing around hm?" "Four months." Lucia winced when Gabrijela let out a pained whine. "Oh wow. Wow, so I've been riding a fucking used cock that was used on a bitch. Wow. Just fucking wow. Lucia, you are so fucking horrible, you know that? You wanna know something Logan, yeah? You ain't the first fucker she's gotten her hands on. She's done it to the other men who were taken. And now, I've had enough fucking looking after you Lucia. You have no sense of personal space and you ruin everyone's lives. You almost did it to Elijah. But at least he was the better man and stopped you." Gabrijela said with such venom Lucia looked down. "I-I'm sorry. Please don't leave me alone, I beg you. I'll make it up-" She whimpered as she stepped to her. "No. No way. It's over. No more will I stand back and let you trample over everyone's lives. You'll learn that one day, fucking someone's partner is not a thing that should be laughed about. I can't believe what moron I was to even stick to you. I only stayed because you had no one else. But now, this is the line I draw entirely." And with that, she left the bathroom, tears and makeup running down her cheeks. She didn't care if it was raining she just needed out. Away from this place. She cried, but no one would know as it was pouring down. Gabrijela came to a park and she sat under a gazebo. She was shaking, it was so cold. But she didn't care. She cried her heart out. Her phone buzzed and buzzed but she ignored it. Only after she stopped she pulled her phone out, Lucia had sent her messages and missed calls from Logan. But she didn't want to speak to them at all. Shivering, she rang up someone else who would listen to her. She waited until the phone was picked up, "Hello?" It sounded like Cillian had just woken up from his sleep, voice heavy. "C-Cillian." She sniffled, the rain had eased off now. "Gabrijela?" He sounded more alert, "Are you okay? Gab?" "I-I'm not Cillian. I... Please pick me up. I-I'm so scared." She started to cry again. "Shh, don't cry hey. Look around yeah? Where are you?" He asked, there was some shuffling and it sounded like he was getting dressed. Gabrijela sniffled and checked her phone for the maps and told him. "Okay. I will be right over. Stay where you are, okay? I won't hang up." His voice was gentle. She nodded, "Okay Cillian." He spoke to her about filming and what was happening as he got into his car. He carried an extra jacket as he sped down the road to the park she was in. It was about twenty minutes and the rain had begun to fall hard again. He parked and ran through the semi-dark park and found her on the gazebo. Gabrijela stood when he came over and she wrapped her arms around him, crying into his chest. He wrapped the jacket around her and held her close. "I got you." He said, a hand on the back of her head. "I'm right here. Oh, darling. Come, let me take you to my home." He murmured. He held her close as they made their way back to the car, he helped her in and he got in and drove off. His home was almost how her apartment looked like. But he had a whole three-story all to himself. He had Christmas decorations up, a Santa light in the bay window. Cillian helped her out of the car, through the iron gates with a pretty garden and up the stairs to the wooden door. Once inside, they were greeted with a narrow hallway that looked like it led to the kitchen and the small dining room. A set of stairs went up to the second floor, and on the right was an open door frame that went into the living room. It was all warm tones, it was cozy and like in a cabin in almost. She spotted photos of him and his family on the little table in the hallway. "Let's go upstairs. You're shivering." He said. Up they went and into his bedroom that took most of the second floor. It overlooked the back garden, it had a large king-sized bed with deep blue sheets and a white throw. It was messy as if he had kicked it all off. He got her to sit on the bed, "I'm going to make a bath, okay? Just wait here." He said as he left the room to go to the bathroom. She sniffled as she looked around, the bed was wooden and had a shelf like backboard that had stacks of books inside it. The wall was dark blue with the other three being an off white colour. Light oak coloured floorboards with a grey carpet at the foot of the bed. Directly across from the bed was a small balcony. From where she sat, across her was a tall bookshelf that had a mixture of books and little statues and photos of him and more of his family. When she turned to look behind her, there was a dresser beside a floor to ceiling window with heavy drapes the colour of storm clouds. And further next to the bed was a small walk-in wardrobe, the light was still on. The room was nice, sleek and cool. Much like Cillian. She smiled at the thought. It even smelled like him. He came back in, carrying a packet of wet wipes and a towel. "Bath is filling up," He said as he sat beside her, "May I?" He held the wipe as if to clean her face up. "Okay." She nodded. He gently began to clean her face up, wiping her eyes and lips and cheeks. "I'll go check the bath." He said and stood, "You can undress, I left the towel there." He smiled and left. She stood up and slowly took off her clothing, neatly leaving it in a heap as she wrapped the fluffy towel around herself. A knock at the door, "Come in." Gabrijela called. He came in, "It's ready. Come on." He gestured for her to come over. He took her into the bathroom. It was cute and simple. It had white tiles halfway then a grey/green/blue coloured wall the rest. The white claw tub that was also a shower was right across, a large window that looked down to the garden below. To the right was a dark brown vanity and white bowl atop. A huge mirror above it. The floors matched the dark colour of the vanity with a plush carpet in the middle. "Fancy." She murmured as she came over to the bathtub that was full of bubbles. She giggled. "I knew bubbles would make you smile. You told me you liked bubble baths." He said, a hand on her back. "I did. Thank you, Cillian." She looked up and gave him a smile. "Any time." He said. "Get in and get comfy. I'll go downstairs and make some tea." He said. She nodded and got in after he had left. She moaned softly and sunk in further, she had kept her hair up in a bun as it was almost dry now. She didn't want to get it wet again. She could feel her body warming up now, but she felt a chill within her. She was going to get sick. Shutting her eyes, she tried not to think of what happened tonight. Tried to stop her heart from breaking any further. But it was hard, she had worked so hard this year, dove into her studies more fiercely and focused more on her happiness. She couldn't believe Lucia would do this to her, but then again... she was stupid to even believe her. She had hoped she would be a better person, but it seemed she wasn't. Tears began to fall again just as Cillian knocked on the door. She quickly washed her face, "You can come in." She called as she watched him enter with two teas. "How is it?" He asked as she set the tray on a little table. "Perfect." She smiled as she held out her hands for her tea, he handed it to her. "Good. I made earl grey, something-" "I told you. Yeah. Thank you, Cillian." She sipped her tea and shuddered, "Yum." She murmured. He sat on the toilet seat, he was dressed in long flannel pants and a white shirt. He had changed it seemed. They stayed silent as she drank her tea, she knew he wanted to ask what happened but she wasn't ready to speak about it. "I uh, I have a long-sleeved shirt and some pants, if you want to wear that. And socks. That's all I can offer." He laughed softly. "That is fine by me. I'd like to be surrounded by you tonight." She whispered as she handed her empty cup back. "I'll bring it in," He said and left and returned with the clothing. Then left again so she could have some privacy. She got out and dried up, combed her hair with her fingers and changed into the clothing he gave her. It was soft and warm. She used the mouthwash and the cup before she cleaned it. She trudged out to the bedroom where he was fixing the bed. "Hi," She said softly, she had puffy red eyes when she had looked at herself in the mirror. "Feel better?" He came over, reaching up to brush his fingers along her jaw. "Yeah. Much needed. Thank you, Cilly." She leaned her cheek into his hand. "I'd like you to stay in bed, I... I need comfort." He nodded, "Alright. Let's get in." He said. She got in with him, the bed was so soft. He laid in the middle on his back as she laid down with her head on his chest. His arm wrapped around her as he pulled up the sheets. "Oh!" He jumped and she looked up. "What?" She asked. "Your feet are cold. Touched mine." He chuckled softly. "Oh, my bad." She let out a soft smile and laid her head back down. She let the sound of his heart lull her into sleep. She was warm, surrounded by the smells of Cillian and his arms. Cillian had no idea what happened tonight to make her so distraught. It broke his heart to see her alone in the dark, shivering and cold. He would not push her, he would let her tell him when she was ready. He would make sure tomorrow she was entirely comfortable and happy.

#cillian murphy #thomas shelby #peaky blinders #fanfiction

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fluorescentpipedream · 5 years ago

Photo

“Hey, Bill.”

Adam looked up from his place at the bar And slid off the stool as Bill came walking in. It had been a little over six months since he’d seen the other man and as he got closer, the two embraced before Bill leaned back and looked Adam over. “Six months and I get a half-hearted hug and a hi. What’s wrong, don’t like me anymore?”

Adam sighs softly, running a hand through his fauxhawk and sits back down on the bar stool he’d been at originally. Bill follows suit and nods his head to the bartender, ordering something called a dark and stormy, only to be met with a confused look. He sighs “Ginger beer and dark rum...”

“That sounds awful” Adam takes a slow drink from his jack and coke before finally turning to his friend again. Bill looks pretty good for a man that was supposed to be dead three years ago. He’s always had a wiry frame but generally stands about 6′3. He’s wearing a dress shirt and black jeans, though the shirt is wrinkled a bit, likely a good sign this is the second or third time it’s been worn this week. That was always a bad habit with him. Still, he seems to have put on a bit more muscle in the time he’s been gone. “You’re staring, Adam”

‘Sorry, it’s just been a long day. And I’m stuck wondering how many days that shirt has seen and how the hell you made time to work out while you were on a book tour”

“Only today, it’s been wrinkled since I put it on. It’s my favorite one...and I didn’t really, though St. Louis has some pretty nice climbing walls.” The bartender brings his drink, which he tastes and grimaces. “dammit all, one of these days I’ll find someone to make one of these correctly.” After taking the twist of line off the glass and biting into it, he orders something else. “How’s New Beginnings?”

“Tracy is still in our meetings…and I’ve got a new one that’s just breaking my heart.”

“Christ, hasn’t she milked this for as much as she can? She’s not even the one that’s actually infected…it was her brother…lover? Both?” Bill pauses as the bartender comes back over with a new drink for him, he nods to the man but doesn’t reach for it right away.

Adam laughs softly. “ husband was the one infected, her brother is a heroin addict.” “I could never keep it straight, she was always complaining about something and seemed to think I was in the wrong for saying fuck it to all of the whining and waiting around to die... Who’s breaking your heart?”

“His name is Liam.”

“What’s his story?” “Poor kid has been through hell the last few months….he’s the one from the news…at the fraternity…” When Bill shrugs, Adam frowns and proceeds to tell him about the issues at UCLA, and one of their more notorious fraternities. They still practiced hazing, while swearing they didn’t, and Liam had gotten some of the worst of it. As Bill curses, Adam nods in agreement and continues on, telling him how Liam was diagnosed with HIV, bordering on full blown AIDs due to his ravaged immune system, though it was unrelated to the hazing incident. Adam frowned and took another drink.

“So how long has it been since he was diagnosed?”

“About three weeks, maybe four. But he actually contracted it when he was 16. Apparently, his guidance counselor tried to guide him in another way.” Adam snarled and Bill muttered a few curses under his breath, a few of which weren’t even in a English. Dropping his head forward, he rolls his neck to the right which causes his blond hair to fall forward and cover the side of his face. Raising his head again, he pushed his hair back into place. Seeing that Adam shared his annoyed and yet equally sympathetic and sad expression, he turned to face him on the stool and laid his hand on Adam’s shoulder. “Is he cute, at least?” Adam chuckled, happy for the change in tone. He nodded. “He’s a little skinny, but his eyes and smile would knock you flat in a heartbeat. Although, I’m pretty sure you aren’t his type…”

“Am I too old?” Bill snickers.

“Well he is in his 20s...”

“Ahh..yeah...he wants ‘em hot and older but not quite daddy.” Both men laughed. Adam grinned into his glass, holding his hand up but for his third round he just gets a soda. Bill follows suit.

“So, whatever happened to Jeanie? I know you were dating before you left...”

“Eh…she started acting too much like my nurse. And honestly, I just don’t have the right mindset for women, I never have. I don’t know why I try to convince myself I’m bi, I barely have any female friends!” “You just need to find a man, stop lying to yourself.” “I had one for a while, but he decided he liked girls better.” Bill gives him a playful look that causes his blue eyes to light up. “Yeah yeah…I was a terrible boyfriend anyway.”

“Given the circumstances, you weren’t the worst. And I don’t blame you for deciding we be friends, rather than lovers.” Bill had been diagnosed when they were dating, it was back in college and they were both scared. Adam had a relatively normal reaction, but they’d made it through well enough. “I needed you, Adam, I never would have gotten clean or made it through that first year without you” He hadn’t cheated on Adam either, he had a bit of a drug problem that had lead to a lifetime of health problems. The silence was growing between them before he cleared his throat and spoke again, chuckling as he did so.

“Somehow we’re still friends. Isn’t it bad luck to be friends with your ex?”

“Only if you’re straight. Which neither of us is. Not completely, at least.” “You are, more than I am.”

““I’m not the only guy you’ve been with since then, am I?”

“God no! That was 15 years ago! I just haven’t had anything that serious in a while...I need someone as adventurous as I am.” He grins. Bill travels quite a bit, whether he’s learning to be a wildlife photographer or fly fishing in Canada, he’s climbed Mount Everest and is actually planning on taking on Kilimanjaro next year, he wants someone that can do it with him without constantly asking if he’s sure his body can handle the stress. Now that he’s back in San Francisco, he was planning on finding a gym of some sort to start training. Maybe kick boxing could be fun?

“In any case, my last signing is on Thursday, I could come to the meeting on Wednesday and talk to the kid if you’d like. It might help.”

“It might. I keep telling him you don’t have to die just because you have this disease, you can still have a long life but he doesn’t seem to want to hear it from someone that doesn’t have it. I tried telling him my ex- has AIDs but I get the feeling he doesn’t believe me.”

“Remember how many people tried to lie to me, when I was diagnosed? ‘my friend’s second cousin has AIDs...” Bill rolls his eyes as he finishes his drink. “I thought Em was going to clock the last one that tried it. Maybe meeting someone that doesn’t treat it as a curse will help him, though if I’m a guest, does that mean I can’t tell Tracy to shove it?’

“Liam beat you to the punch, though if she starts up again, have at it. I know you never liked her.” It felt like Tracy had been coming to the New Beginnings meetings for as long as Adam had been running them, and the story always got worse every time she spoke. She also seemed to harbor a severe hatred towards Bill and his ‘fuck waiting around to die’ mentality. It would be interesting to see if she still stood up to him now that he’s a NY Times Best Seller and was on Ellen. Adam smiled at the thought though shifted his attention to his phone as it chimes at him.

Before he can grab it, Bill leans over and snatches it from him. He had thought it was their other friend, Emmett, who’s been working as a nutritionist and usually works in close ties with Adam. If this kid was as bad off as Adam said, he would have likely sent him Em’s way. Usually he avoids going into bars, since he’s struggled with alcoholism since college, so if the three of them get together they tend to avoid it in lieu of his comfort. Seeing the name though, he smirks.

“Ooh...Who’s Shannon?”

“What are you? 12? Give me that!” Adam tries to snatch his phone back and ends up with Bill’s hand in his chest.

“It’s Liam’s aunt.”

“What are you doing giving your number to strange women?”

“She’s not strange. I gave her my number in case she wanted to talk...”

“Uh-huh. I guess your bedside manner has gotten better.” Bill winks before handing Adam’s phone back to him. For his part, Adam lightly taps Bill on the top of the head with it before reading the message. Apparently Liam had met a couple of college students on the beach the other day and they were “dragging” him bowling tomorrow night. She wanted to have dinner. He and Shannon has been taking it pretty slow. She had a lot on her plate now with her nephew living with her and Liam was still so new to the whole ‘living with his disease’ thing...neither wanted to make Liam less than, especially since there was the abuse and neglect surrounding him before. Adam was staring at his phone, playing out several scenarios in his mind. Bill pushes his hair back from his face again and scratches at his chin before speaking in a more serious tone as he lays his hand on Adam’s shoulder.

“You’re overthinking this, Adam. It’s dinner, not a marriage proposal. Don’t make me answer for you, you know I will.”

“Don’t you dare.” After another pause, he sends his response, telling Shannon he would love to have dinner with her tomorrow, he’ll pick her up at 6. “Looks like I have a date tomorrow.” Adam mused. “Congratulations! We should celebrate,” he laughed, flipping his phone over do the screen was flat on the bar top “Emmett wants to have dinner on Thursday after my signing, you good to go?” “That should be fine…it’ll be good to get all of us together again. We haven’t had dinner since before you left.”

“Fuck, that feels like a long time ago.”

Adam nodded “Yeah…“it’s amazing how much can happen in just a few months...”

#talking #catching up #characters #Adam Gontier #Jasper Paakkonen

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memescomicswriting · 5 years ago

Text

In the Pursuit of Happiness Ch. 7

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Reader x Bucky, Reader x Steve

Warnings/genre: Very Angsty Chapter, a few bad words

Summary: Singer!Avenger. Raised by Sheild since the age of ten, Y/N grew up without everyday examples. She only saw how to be an agent. Though as a grown woman she has surpassed that mindset, she still faces challenges from her upbringing- like how to handle feelings, unrequited love, and interpersonal challenges. Set after similar plot points in Civil War, Y/N must face returning home after leaving during an uncomfortable time in her life and facing the consequences

A/N: This is my first series in the Marvel fandom. I hope you enjoy it. I always welcome feedback. It is appreciated. This story does not follow the traditional Marvel timeline. I mess with it to make the story work, so roll with me.

This may be my favorite chapter so far. It certainly was the easiest to write.

Story Masterlist

A month passed since Steve left. Things continued as they always had. You and the team trained and acted when needed. Peter was heading back to school soon and you were trying to enjoy as much leisurely time with him as you could. You'd have some weekends with him and you would go to visit, but you couldn't take him on trips with his friends to water parks or the beach, trips to Quebec, and long movie marathons with the team. Somehow, wherever you took Peter beyond the compound, Bucky decided he needed to get out as well. You appreciated it. Though you loved Peter and his friends, being all alone with a gang of teenagers could grow draining. Wanda would join you on occasion, but she was indifferent to outings with large crowds of people. Despite Bucky's unease with crowds and a large amount of time in society, he took to the teens, the city, and other places you traveled well. He was fun in the purest sense. He'd make jokes with you while Peter and his friends were distracted. He'd intercede when someone recognized you and refused to leave. He thought ahead and brought you coffee when you seemed tired or a snack you eyed. It reminded you of the old days with Steve; long before you believed he developed feelings for you. You enjoyed having an adult compatriot again.

While Peter shopped for school supplies with Tony, on Tony's insistence, you were left on your own in the compound. There was a nook on the terrace, around a corner no one thought to look past. There, you kept many plants- flowers, herbs, vegetables, and some fruit bushes. It was peaceful and shaded enough to lounge during the summer months. There you often read books- F. Scott Fitzgerald, Orwell, Agatha Christe, and more. Today, you were engrossed with a modern commentary on "A Midsummer's Night Dream." Bucky cleared his throat off to the side of you, making himself known. Slowly, you closed your book after marking your page. "I was wondering where you got off to. Now I know." He eased his way off where he lounged against the concrete wall. There were three other seats open at the patio table, and he sat in chair nearest to you. He brought a journal and glass of iced tea with him. "And what got you wondering?" You inquired. Your book pushed further across the table and you crossed your legs over each other as you leaned back. "Some of the others are going to the tower for a press statement. Do you think you'll go?" He took a sip of his drink and offered you some. You took the drink and plucked some mint from beside you and put it in the drink. Bucky gave you a look, but you continued. "I have a short tour in a week. I'll save the public appearances for those not always in the public eye." You easily shrugged. "I may be able to change my appearance while facing the world as an avenger, but it's draining all the same." Bucky nodded in agreement. You returned his improved drink and settled into some silence for a moment. "Of course you're welcome to accompany me on any tour stop you like. Peter, Tony, Wanda. Vision, Sam, and sometimes the others join in." Steve's name was unmentioned. He often joined you in the past, but now he was a sore spot for Bucky and yourself. If Steve was here now, you're sure you'd still be friends with Bucky but not on the level you were now. You'd both lost your person in Steve's leaving. "Maybe I will in Florida. After years of the cold, I enjoy my tropical missions. I think Miami'd be fun. Maybe your Puerto Rico benefit." He ran a hand through his hair. You could see the wheels behind his eyes turning in thought. Could he handle himself that far away? You reached your hand out and took his. You smiled as warm as the sun when you gave him a gentle squeeze. "Only if you feel comfortable enough to go. I'll always be there to help but I'd never push you beyond what I knew you could handle." His smile grew nearly as bright as yours. The appreciation obvious, with no need for a declaration. "It sounds nice." --- Another month came and went. You thought it would grow easier with time, but this month started darker than the first. Bucky never made it to Miami or Puerto Rico. The night before his flight out he had a relapse. Sam informed you about the incident over the phone. "He just woke up one night with no memories. He wasn't the soldier, but he was confused and cornered like a wild animal. It took two hours and all of Wanda's mental determination to put him down. We aren't sure what triggered the lapse, but the doctors are saying it was his PTSD acting as a protection mechanism. He's traveling to Wakanda for a week and then he'll undergo recoupment here." You felt guilt. Perhaps if you had been there you could have reversed it sooner, without the fight. Maybe it wouldn't have happened at all. "Steve," It was another message to his answering machine. Then tenth so far. You sent one every week. "I don't know if you listen to these, let alone receive them but it helps me to send them all the same." You paused, trying not to lose the composure in your voice. "It's Bucky. He had another lapse. A bad one. Maybe the others informed you, gotten to you. Maybe not. But I think it would help if you returned, for him." You tossed your phone on the overly plush hotel bed. You were defeated. You canceled the rest of your tour following Puerto Rico. On the island, you represented yourself as a celebrity and your views as a hero. You used the Stark relief fund to rebuild the countless homes, businesses, and structures that hadn't received aid. You tossed tour money at any genuine organization, political or otherwise, determined to help the island. You sponsored lawyers. You used your powers to protect protestors from the poorly ordered police. They didn't want to hurt their countrymen, but they had orders to follow so they kept their jobs. When the chaos subsided, and you accomplished what the federal and island government failed at, you returned home. --- "Woah," Clint called out, reeling you back. You were still in your uniform and decked out in the face you presented as an avenger. You were near Thor's build, but slimmer and more feminine. "Hold it there Florence Nightengale. Don't rush him. He needs his sleep. You can see him in the morning. You could easily startle him if you burst in." "Clint," You pulled away and continued down the hall. "I'm not going to startle him. I'm just going to check up on him. See if he needs anything." "You have a tendency," Clint was hesitant to finish. "To overstep respectable bounds Y/N. He's not Steve and you don't have the control like Wanda. Leave him be." You froze in your tracks. Tears were threatening to pool down your face. No, we were here because you caused Steve to leave. Bucky was doing just fine while Steve was around. He relapsed because his person left. This was your fault. Bucky wasn't Steve. Steve who you pushed and pushed until he finally gave in to your demands and explored modern society. Steve, who's demons were further embedded but easier to ward away. You weren't Wanda. She possessed a level of control you dreamed of. She knew her powers and their bounds. Once you thought you had your gifts all figured out, they surprised you again. Ashamed, you focused your blurry vision on your shoes. "I know I'm not Wanda and I'll never be as amazing as her, but I have different talents than her. Some of them may help him heal faster. He's not Steve, but he needs my help." You pushed yourself forward. Clint didn't follow. You were sure he'd return to the common area and have FRIDAY monitor you for him. You slid into the darkened room with ease. It was pitch black in the common area. You slipped with no noise. However, opening Bucky's bedroom door frightened you more than the time you snuck into Sheild headquarters at sixteen after a date. Hopefully, you wouldn't be horrifically caught like that time. The moonlight shown through open blinds so the room was littered with shadows. In the middle of the bed, Bucky slept in a dysfunctional spread but calm. He looked at peace so you wouldn't disturb him. There was a loveseat close to the door. You took up residence there. Figuring you'd make sure he got a peaceful nights sleep, you'd safeguard him until he naturally awoke. However, you were tired from your hasty journey to the compound. You brought yourself home without a plane. Jet lag took a whole new meaning when you were the jet. Your eyes slipped shut even though you tried your best to keep them open. Waking up startled you. It was still night, but a different hour. It was closer to morning. The faintest murmur stirred your intense hearing and you shot up alarmed. "Steve?" The voice was gravelly and distant. It was Bucky from his bed. You looked over your shadow and then yourself. Still in uniform and morphed into a giant, it was easy to confuse you in the dark. "No," Your voice took a hushed approach. Thinking on the spot, you grabbed one of Bucky's clean and folded t-shirts from the laundry basket. Throwing it on, it became as large as a dress as you shrank back to your standard size. You slipped your uniform off from underneath his shirt. "It's me Y/N." Once recognition shown through his moonlit eyes you approached the foot of the bed. "Oh, Y/N." Sleep was retreating form his voice, but you didn't want to stir him so soon. "Go back to sleep. I'll just sit on the loveseat and read or something. I just wanted to make sure you were okay tonight." You ran a hand through your hair and it fell out of your tight bun. Fidgeting with it, you twisted it into a low and loose ponytail. "Y/N come here. You can't stay on that small couch the entire night." He declared and you were inclined to do whatever he said tonight. His body shifted to your left and the right-hand side of the bed remained. "Just come here and talk me back to sleep. You're good at talking." You resisted the urge to smack his chest as you took your place. Even half-asleep Bucky could be the wittiest man you ever met. Settling into the bed should have felt strange, but instead, it was natural. You frequently climbed into the beds of your teammates to talk. Steve's the most often. Maybe it was the familiarity. Peace incircled the bed. "You missed the tour." You faced the ceiling as he did, but the comment was directed at him and not the walls of the room. "Sorry." He muttered with his lips sticking together from the sleep he was just in. "I encountered some complications getting there." You quickly replied. "You should have called me. I would have made certain you got there and enjoyed yourself." "I-I didn't, didn't wanna be a bother." The tiredness in his voice was overpowered by nervousness and shame. Sometimes, Steve felt as though he was a burden to you, especially in the beginning. You spent so much of your time helping him he became conflicted about your motives. Did you do it out of kindness, assumed responsibility, or pity? It was never any of those. Kindness was the closest thing to it. You helped him because you wanted to. Now, you'd do the same for Bucky. You turned to face the man sprawled out next to you. He wouldn't look at you so you leaned up on your elbows and blocked his view of the ceiling with your frame. "James, listen to me." Your voice filled with stern compassion. "You are not, nor ever will be a burden to me or anyone else on this team. Got it?" He quickly nodded in understanding; perhaps afraid of what would happen if he didn't. You settled back down next to him, closure this time. "Contrary to what your doubts tell you, we like having you around. You're the most loyal and dependable person I've met besides Steve. You're funny and so smart that it nearly kills me sometimes. You could give Bruce and Tony a run for their money if you took up their studies. You're a great role model for Peter. And best of all, you're the most amazing friend. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have made it these past two months. I owe my strength now, to you." Bucky never replied to you after your impromptu speech. If you scared him with your thoughts, so be it. He needed to hear it. Your fears of that drained however when his fingers intertwined with yours. The intimacies in it spoke profound volumes. He couldn't bring to words how much he needed someone to say all those things. In appreciation, he brought your intertwined hands to his lips and kissed your smooth skin available to him. Things stilled in the universe surrounding you two. The crickets faded into nothing. Owls grew silent. Even your breathing drew elongated into silent sweeps of breath. Both of you fell asleep like that- in mutually appreciated silence and touch. You slept in that morning due to the lump of super-soldier weighing you down as his personal pillow. --- After that night, Bucky became far more comfortable with touching you. He hadn't shown any problem with it before, but he was far more generous with personal contact now. Everything was platonic. At least that's how it felt. Whether or not the others saw it that way was a different story. Before, his contact with others was limited to pats on the back from Sam or Steve, check-ups from Bruce, and the occasional shoulder squeeze from Nat. His fingers brushed yours on occasion, but it was always in passing. That night released a floodgate of touch starved longing. Bucky began by sitting with his body pressed to yours on the couch. Quickly, he moved on to taking your hand when it was free; even when it was inconvenient. He'd rest his arm on your shoulder and then his head. After exhausting missions, he asked for shoulder rubs on the jet ride back. If you were tired, you'd still agree to it. If he worked up the courage to ask, then he needed it. Slowly, he built his way up to embrace you. One morning, you woke up exceptionally early. When your body refused to let you go back to sleep, you just got up and started your day. The smell of fresh coffee drew you to the kitchen. There, Bucky sat with his head supported by his elbows propped up on the table. His normally silky hair was caught in knots that blanketed his face. Shards of a coffee mug decorated the floor around him. Temporarily ignoring the mess, you took the free seat next to him. Unlike the others, you didn't approach him like a wounded animal. He was just another person at the counter. When he didn't respond, you gently squeezed his bicep. Stormy eyes flashed in front of you. He'd cried his eyes puffy and nearly red. Defeat radiated off of him. "I can't do anything right Y/N." The nightmares were taking their toll. It was clear in his sunken demeanor. Your heart broke for him because he thought he had to keep it all in. He wouldn't ask for help. "No one is asking you to, Bucky." With your free hand, you began detangling the knots from his hair. "Just be and take your time. I'll be right here when you're ready to face the world again." Shock overtook you when he collided with you far faster and harder than you ever anticipated. His arms almost doubled around your waist due to his broad structure. Heat startled the nerves of your shoulders when his cheek rested in the crook of your neck. His body was pressed into yours and you were squished, but you didn't mind. You draped your arms across his frame and dug your fingers into his hair so you could trace small, soothing patterns into his scalp. "Thank you." He breathed into your neck. You stayed like that until he decided to part from you. You refused to let him apologize as you cleaned up the mug he shattered and made him breakfast. Bucky hugged you in the most random moments. You could leave the gym, sweaty and he would be freshly showered, but he'd still pull you against him. If you leaned over him while he sat, he'd pull your arms around his shoulders and lock them there. Walking into a room he occupied, getting excited, frustrated, or any time you lingered next to him you were engulfed by him. Soon, you realized it was his way of communicating with you when he felt too uncomfortable to speak. That realization came when he tapped the words "are you okay" into your arm with morse code. He hugged you when he needed touch, in congratulations, thanks, and concern. It didn't matter where or when, which got you into trouble. If someone walked in without context, they confused the meaning of the embrace. It didn't help that Bucky directed most of his affection to you. He was healing. You'd talk about boundaries when he was strong enough. --- The third month dragged out into eternity. The sooner you neared that benchmark, the more frustrated you grew with everyone. That included yourself. You grew moody, argumentative, and distance. You'd lock yourself away during the day and roam by night. You couldn't handle everyone failing to hold back pity as their eyes met yours because they knew Steve wasn't coming back. It was October now, and even the prospects of the Halloween season and the begging of fall did nothing to lift your spirits. It did get you out of your room more, but only to your spot on the terrace. You curled up in your usual chair, but now you had a portable firepit to enjoy. Autumn winds rippled through the air and chilled your bones. Then the fires' heat rocked against you, warming you back up. Some nights you slept out there, alone, and numb. "If you burn down the compound," A deep voice startled you out of your distant state. "Stark's gonna kill 'ya." You huffed. Bucky. He lounged in the shadows of the corner, barely visible by the light that reflected from his eyes. You rolled your eyes at the slight smugness he'd gained. "Trust me, if I'm burning down the compound there are a lot more violent and plausible causes than my fire pit." You poked and prodded at your insulted method of comfort until Bucky snatched the iron rod away from you. "So what's got 'ya acting like a caged wild animal?" He plopped down into the chair beside you. The patio table and chairs were replaced with lawn chairs once fall appeared. You gave him your most obvious really look. "What do you think?" "I don't get it." He stated bluntly. "Why now? You think this would be how you acted right after he left, not month three going on four." He turned and faced you. He didn't know. For a super-assassin and soldier, he was pretty clueless. "Because." You met his gaze. "If he doesn't return by month three, he isn't returning at all. Not for a very long time." "You left for three months." He nodded, beginning to understand. "We have an agreement: neither of us can leave for more than three months at a time. Missions never ran past three months without rotating teammates. I never went on a tour longer than three months without a massive break in between. He even refused to search for you more than three months without a visit. If it passes three months, we really are broken beyond repair." Bucky reached for you and when he got ahold of you, he lifted you up and onto his lawn chair. "Hey, look at me, doll." His fingers traced the outlines of your face and gently nudged your vision back to him. "No one is broken here. Whatever wounds are hurting you today, will heal in time. You'll see." Your voice croaked as you allowed the pain to take over you. "Bucky, I can't do this without him. I'm holding onto something that's drowning me and I can't." "Then let him go." He crooned. "And be your lifevest. A person isn't worth sinking over." He kissed your forehead and held you tight in his arms. That night, he did the reassuring. In the morning, you woke up to a peeking sun and smoldering embers. Bucky's chest was your pillow and a small fleece blanket was enough for you both when you comfortably intertwined. You left Bucky with the blanket, figuring he'd sleep another hour. You needed to make a call. "Voicemail ten-thousand, and it'll be the last one you'll have to endure from me." You sniffled as you rubbed your chilled face warm again. "I thought you were the one Steve. Finally, I found a man I could give my heart to and love. But you took that chance away from me when you left. Do you understand that? You made my decision for me and that is wrong. For the past three months, I've done nothing but think of you. I wondered what it would be like if you were here. How happy would I be? Now I'm miserable. When Bucky lapsed I blamed myself because maybe he wouldn't have if you were here, and I drove you away. I beat myself up for your decision, something I had no control over. Enough is enough. From now on, I'm going to work on forgetting you instead of mourning someone who ran from me. I don't hold any ill will against you. In fact, I hope you thrive on this mission. I hope it brings you to everything you needed and more because no matter how much you hurt me, I could never hate you. So this is the last time I'll attempt to contact you. You need to get over me and I need to get over you. So this is goodbye. Stay safe Steve." Misty eyed, you hung up the phone. With the click of that button, you allowed all the emotions you'd bottled up over the past three months to spring free. You felt nostalgia, regret, bitterness, dread, insecurity, and finally release. Hope. You felt hope. You met Steve at such a young age, and for years he was a crutch for the pitfalls and joys of your youth. Now that he was gone, it was time for you to embark on your journey. As a woman, it was time for you to grow up and create an identity outside of those around you. It was time to settle your uncharted territory. Silently, you slipped back under the blanket with Bucky. When you returned from your phone call, he was still asleep. He looked so peaceful this morning. He hadn't shown this much tranquility in months. You were careful not to bother him as you gently sunk into the spot you left. In no time his arms were back around you, but now you were his pillow. A delicate sigh escaped his sleeping lips when he nustled into your chest. Your light chuckles only lulled him further back into his present state. It felt right and you felt content. Now, you were exactly where you needed to be.

---

A/N: What did you think of chapter 7? Reblog if you liked it! Comment what you enjoyed the most?

Do you think it was wise for Y/N to take over Steve’s supportive roll in Bucky’s life? Was it fair for her to place so much blame on herself? With Steve’s door closing, what doors should open to Y/N?

My messages, asks, and requests are all open. Let me know if you have any thoughts, comments, or suggestions!

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