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magics-neptunes-things · 9 months ago

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A Year of You

Hi guys!

This is a part 2 for "A Baby for Christmas" that I wrote months ago. It took me a long time to write because I wanted to have different ideas and not to write something to get over it.

So please enjoy this one ♥

December

Charlie being born on December 8, her first Christmas is naturally celebrated a little less than two weeks after her birth. It was normally up to you and Leah to throw the party, but Amanda seemed to think your daughter’s arrival gave you a valid excuse to skip your turn. It took a few years of adaptation, but you and Leah managed to find a twist between your two families, so that you could spend time with both of them. The Williamsons have invited your loved ones to come and celebrate with them several times, and that is the case today.

Usually you celebrate the 24th with Leah’s parents, her brother and girlfriend. On the 25th at noon with ALL Williamson and the 25th at night you are at your parents where you sleep and also spend the day after.

This year, however, to avoid complicated journeys, the two families are reunited and it suits you very well like that. You came home from the maternity ward after three nights, finding your bed and Leah’s arms to sleep with relief. Charlie is a rather calm child, it’s only when she is hungry that she gets angry and you don’t hesitate to tease Leah by pointing out that she already takes from her. She answered that if it was right, Charlie would only eat ham sandwich.

For sleep, she always has the rhythm of a newborn. That is, she falls asleep anywhere and anytime, waking up after four hours since her last meal. And since your daughter’s arrival in your lives, you’ve been wondering which dumbass invented the phrase "Sleeping like a baby" to mean you slept well.

"Is the most beautiful girl hungry?" coos Leah sitting next to you on the couch while you hold Charlie in your arms.

"No I'm okay, thank you" you answer with a sarcastic smile.

Leah laughs softly and puts a kiss on your cheek, although you had time to see a hint of guilt in her eyes. She nevertheless hands you the bottle that she has skillfully prepared for Charlie and you don't waste time before proposing it to her. She calms down quickly and you smile when you hear her gurgling with pleasure.

"I love you" Leah whispers to your ear, putting her two arms around your waist.

You leave Charlie’s face to look at your wife tenderly. With her elf headband and Christmas sweater, you find her particularly adorable. You answer her "I love you too" in the same way before kissing her tenderly, determined to enjoy a little of her. The world revolves around you, trying to digest the main course before tackling the army of desserts planned by your mother-in-law. Your parents are talking to Leah’s father about their last trip, the cousins have embarked on a game of Uno and the youngest enjoy the gifts they received.

"Oi, you just had a baby, maybe this is not the time to try to make another one"

The couch pops up next to Leah when her brother drops down next to her, interrupting your moment. If it amuses you, Leah gives him a cold glare.

"You better hurry up and make one, so my daughter has a cousin to play with."

January

Despite the fact that Alessia, Lia and Katie drove Leah to the maternity ward, none of them have had the chance to meet Charlie yet. It must be said that this little lady was born during the holidays, many people returned to their families. So, when Leah’s first practice of the year takes place, your decision to go surprise her and officially introduce Charlie to everyone was not hard to take.

Maybe a little helped too by the trouble Leah had leaving you both this morning. You almost had to throw her out, after promising to send her regular photos of Charlie.

"We’re here, Buba" you tell your daughter, using the nickname Leah gave her.

The baby has just eaten and slept almost all morning, so it’s relaxed and awake that she gets out of her car seat to get installed it in her stroller. With her fox onesie and her beanie with fox ears, you could eat her alive. Her eyes don’t leave your face when you go to the training field, the time of the lunch break being over since a few minutes.

Also, you didn’t expect to practically rush into Alessia who seems to be running to catch up. The shock of the almost collision passed, she gives you a big smile that gets even bigger when she realizes that you have Charlie with you. In two seconds she is leaning over the stroller.

"She’s so tiny" she whispers

You smile and look with amusement at your daughter looking at Alessia with a mixture of mistrust and skepticism.

"She inherited Leah’s glare and frown. It's kind of scary" mumble Alessia before getting up to look at you with hope. "Can I take her?"

You accept without hesitation, gently taking Charlie from her stroller to tender her to Alessia. You are perfectly confident, despite her chronic clumsiness you know that she will be very careful.

Alessia puts a kiss on Charlie’s cheek and looks at her smiling for a few minutes, before giving her back to you.

"Let’s go, we’re not gonna deprive Leah of a few extra seconds with you."

You follow her to the gym where the sports machines are, learning with joy that the girls will not return to the field until tomorrow. The training was adapted with the weather and it seems that snow is announced in the middle of the afternoon. You continue your chatter, until Alessia opens the door of the room.

"Late, Russo!"

You smile when you hear Leah’s voice sound, but Alessia is the first to speak again.

"I have a good excuse. Look who I’m bringing you"

Busy pedaling on a bike, Leah raises her head with curiosity, her face lighting up when seeing you. It only takes a few seconds for her to jump off her bike and join you, passing her arms around your waist to drop dozens of kisses all over your face, making you laugh.

"What are you doing here?"

"Charlie missed you" you maliciously pretexted.

"Ooooh is it right Buba? Did you miss me?"

Leah smiles softly and leans over the stroller, once again taking Charlie out to take her in her arms. She starts talking to her while rocking her. You smile softly, letting them have their moment and take the opportunity to greet the teammates of your blonde. After a few minutes they are all arguing about which one will have the chance to have Charlie first and you watch them do it while laughing softly.

You are not surprised to see Leah opting for Lia, the reassuring calm of the Swiss inspired as often trust. In the meantime, you’re sure of one thing, Charlie has an entire team to rely on in case of trouble.

February

Leah growls as she hears your daughter’s crying sound in the night, for what it seems to be the tenth time, turning on her stomach to hide her face in the pillow. For your part you sigh with despair, you have not even had time to fall asleep since her last awakening.

"What the hell is happening to her?"

Leah’s voice is muffled by the pillow and you rub your face as you get out of bed.

"I don’t know" you whisper, completely lost.

Usually, Charlie only wakes up once in the night to get a bottle, two if she ate not enough during the day. Which is more than reasonable for a three-month-old baby. But tonight, something doesn’t seem right and you don’t understand what. She ate well, had a good day and everything was fine yesterday. She fell asleep as usual except tonight, something’s wrong.

You checked her temperature, offered a bottle, water, changed her diaper several times and even undressed her from head to toe to make sure everything was okay. You had the misfortune of falling on the story of a baby who lost a toe because a hair had wrapped around it. Since then, you’ve been carefully examining Charlie’s ten toes several times a day.

Arriving in your daughter’s room, you take her out of her cradle once again to take her against you and rock her, installed on the armchair in her room. Like other times she finally calms down and looks at you at length with her blue eyes before finally letting herself go in sleep.

You realize you fell asleep too when you feel Charlie being gently removed from your arms. Your first reflex is to tighten her against you, but Leah’s whispered voice gently reassures you.

You watch her do it, dropping a kiss on Charlie’s forehead before turning to you to lift you from the chair and carry you a little bit the way she did with your daughter. Smiling tenderly, you put your arms around her neck and let her bring you back to your bed. She lies you on it and lies on you, her head in your neck.

"Don’t take this position for what it isn't, I’m too exhausted for anything to do with sex" Leah mutters against your skin.

You laugh softly, fondling her long blond hair tenderly.

"It was worth marrying a professional athlete" you point out by yawning.

"Tomorrow" answers Leah already half asleep.

"Sure"

You’re amused and close your eyes. Leah’s comforting warmth against you allows you to fall asleep faster than before and you are already almost gone when you hear your wife speak again.

"Love you"

"Love you more" you manage to whisper before sinking completely.

March

Becoming a parent has brought a lot of positive things into your life, you can’t say otherwise. Ever since Charlie was born, you’ve discovered a form of love you never knew existed. But you also have to admit that you miss spending quality time with Leah alone. So you took advantage of Leah’s birthday to ask your mother-in-law to look for your pretty princess for the night, to have the opportunity to offer Leah an evening.

Amanda obviously accepted without hesitation, idolizing her granddaughter. Leaving her at home wasn’t easy, however, especially for you. You never left Charlie for more than several hours, when Leah was looking at her for you to go for a medical appointment or a haircut.

"Will you let us know how it's going?" You whisper in Amanda’s ear saying goodbye, Leah covering Charlie’s laughing face with kisses next to you.

"Sure." Amanda smiles at you before fondly tapping your cheek. "Take good care of my daughter, I’ll take care of yours."

You can’t help but smile at her remark and you take a look in the direction of Leah and Charlie, to be once again invaded by a wave of love for the two human beings in front of you.

A few hours later, you enter the restaurant you booked. This is the first restaurant you shared with Leah and the smile on her face is enough to make you understand that she remembers it too.

"Very good choice of restaurant" teases Leah, once installed at your table.

"I thought it would be good to go back to basics"

Leah smiles and you thank the waiter who brings you the menu cards before taking your choice of drink. The beginning of the meal goes quietly, conversations passing from football to Charlie, to your work and the holidays you plan to do this summer.

"Do you remember what you said to me after our first date?" Leah suddenly asks while poking a French fry with her fork.

"Mmh?"

You have a full mouth and are therefore unable to give her an answer right away. Anyway, you have the impression that Leah wants to formulate the sentence herself.

"I’ve been warned of your flirtatious temper. I don’t want to be another scratch on your bedmarks. If you want something from me, it must be something serious."

You smile at that memory and Leah seems amused too. You quickly fell in love with the blonde, how could you have done otherwise anyway?

"You’ve been running your boat pretty well so far" you’re joking mischievously.

"And right after you threw yourself at me to kiss me"

That too, you remember perfectly well, obviously. Far from being calculated, this kiss had been intense. The first one you two shared.

"I was afraid you were less interested in me than I was in you. I wanted to leave you a little memory."

"By slamming the door of your apartment in my face right after?"

Leah’s face is laughing, amused at the thought of teasing you for your behavior. But you can’t blame her, you’re even laughing now.

"What do you want me to say? I just panicked."

Leah mixes her laughter with yours and you smile softly, still loving to hear her laugh. People sometimes define Leah as serious and narrow-minded, what she is. But she’s not just that. You love the gentle, relaxed, tender Leah.

"It didn’t prevent you from writing to me a little hour after actually" you point out while bowing an eyebrow.

"Contrary to what you seem to think, I’ve always been the most in love between the both of us"

Bowing your eyebrow at her, you point your fork in her direction. She is about to revive a long debate between you two. And her dirty kid's smile tells you she knows exactly what she’s doing.

"Don’t start here, Williamson."

Throughout the meal, you receive occasional news from Amanda to inform you of the evolution of Charlie’s evening. You received a photo of Charlie in her bath, a photo of Charlie with Amanda’s dog, a photo of Charlie with her uncle Jacob and a photo of Charlie deeply asleep in her bedroom at her grandmother. You’ve repeated several times that it’s not necessary to have a room made for Charlie at her place, but Amanda is as stubborn as Leah.

"Aren’t we going home?"

Leah’s surprise voice pulls you out of your thoughts, for once she’s the passager princess. You look at her quickly to stay focused on the road, smiling at her.

"Who do you think I am? It’s your birthday, we’re not going to end the evening with a chamomile in front of a soap opera"

You’re a little more relaxed than at the beginning of the evening, relieved to learn that Charlie fell asleep without being difficult to her grandmother. She has finally regained her sleep habits after a short spell.

"Where are we going?" Leah said, standing up on her seat and looking out, as if signs were going to give her the right answer.

You end up stopping your car at a palace in the Westminster district, in which you booked a suite with a balcony offering you a magnificent view of London. This is one of the few times you find yourself facing a silent Leah.

"What do you think?" you ask timidly after joining her on the balcony.

"I don’t know what I did to have the chance to have you in my life, but know that I don’t intend to let you escape one day" Leah whispers in response, putting her two arms around your waist to hold you tight.

"I really think that I'm the lucky one but never let me go" you mumble against her lips, passing your arm around her neck.

"Never let you go" she answers before kissing you hard, promise of a more than pleasant end of the evening.

April

The first time you took Charlie to see Leah play, it was primarily to support your wife who play today on her national team. To say that Charlie didn’t see much of the first half is an understatement, but she's now a great sleeper.

So that you can enjoy the game, your mother and Leah’s mother volunteered in turn to watch over Charlie who was peacefully napping inside the VIP corner, away from the cold in the bleachers. Awakened at halftime for her bottle, she is in your arms when Leah put the ball on the net, cheered whit the crowd around you. You gently take Charlie’s hand in yours and make her say hello to Leah who sends you a big smile.

Dressed in a panda jumpsuit on which you passed a jersey obviously flocked with Leah’s number and your last name, Charlie is particularly adorable. Well, you’re not impartial. But since you’ve had all the families of Leah’s teammates come to see Charlie, you don’t think you’re the only one who thinks so.

The game went great and the spring sun allows you not to be cold. You can’t tell what Charlie sees from the game, but her attention seems to be focused on the pitch. Even if sometimes she seems more attracted by the images that pass on the big screen. Charlie stays on your lap for the rest of the game and when the whistle rings to announce the end of the game, Leah goes straight to you.

"My Love" coos Leah taking Charlie in her arms immediately.

"Ouch. That hurts." you grumble in a low voice

Amanda next to you laughs and puts her arm around your shoulder. Leah gives you an apology smile while dropping kisses on Charlie’s cheeks making your daughter pat Leah’s cheeks. You can’t be angry for real obviously, especially when you feel your heart melt when you see the scene.

Leah is quickly joined by some of her teammates, Alessia at the top of the list. She’s taking Ella with her and you can see that Georgia isn’t following very far behind. If Charlie looks at Ella and Georgia with a scepticism that can only be linked to her genes, she smiles a big smile at Alessia.

"I’m her favorite" she proudly says, reaching out to Charlie.

Leah rolls her eyes and gently give her your daughter. Over time, Alessia seems to be more comfortable with Charlie. She developped a sweet spot for your daughter, asking you from time to time if she can join your afternoon stroll.

When Leah turns to you, you hurry to remove your smile from your face and look at her with an arch of an eyebrow.

"Are you sulking Williamson?" Leah mischievously pinched your ribs.

"Absolutely" you answer by wriggling to escape her attacks.

Leah smiles as you try to get away but doesn’t hesitate to put her arms around your waist to take you against her. You let it happen, of course. She understood that you're not really angry when you said you were. You smile in her arms, passing your arms around her neck.

"I’m proud of you, Lee" you say in the hollow of her ear.

You feel Leah’s smile against your skin and she puts a kiss in the hollow of your neck. The glance she throws at you and the caress on your cheek are largely enough to make you understand that you too are "Her Love". After releasing you, Leah turns to her mother and yours to exchange a few words. For your part, you turn towards Charlie who is still in Alessia’s arms.

"Beware the…" you begin, before Charlie grabs Ella’s hair in full hand to pull it, triggering Ella's cry of pain and Alessia's laughter. "…hair."

May

"Baby she's doing it again!"

Hiding your smile, you leave your work on your computer to go to Leah and Charlie in the kitchen. Your daughter started to eat vegetable puree and everything went great until Kyra came on time during Charlie's lunch and show her how to spit her food.

"I'm going to kill Kyra" Leah mumbles, giving you the little spoon and Charlie's vegetable.

"Alright but wash the carrots before, maybe" your smirk.

You hear Leah grunts before heading to the bathroom and you turn yourself in Charlie's direction. Arching an eyebrow, you look at your daughter with seriousness before pointing her with the plastic spoon.

"No spitting, baby Williamson!"

Charlie give your one of her toothy smile and you can't help yourself but smile too. She definitely have you wrapped around her little finger, but you still tries to set her boundaries and rules, not wanting Charlie to become one of those unbearable children who listens to nothing.

You carefully give her a spoon that she's swallow easily before opening her mouth again. You feel yourself relax as the spoon were eaten easily and some minutes after Leah is back in the kitchen with a new shirt.

"Thanks baby" she says, kissing your cheek before taking back the spoon and the bowl.

"You're welcome. Can I go back to my office now?"

"Yep" Leah says, popping the p of the word.

"Be wise with Mum, Baba" you say to your daughter before going in your office again.

After your pregnancy, you didn't start working again. It was to hard for you to leave Charlie for now, maybe you will start again after she start school. You had a long discussion with Leah about it, not wanting to be the one using the other's money. Leah was shocked that you thought that she can think about you that way, saying that she didn’t mind you taking care of your daughter for the first few months of her life.

In exchange, you offered to take care of all the administrative papers of your couple life and this is what you are currently working on.

At least you try, because five minutes later you clearly ear the characteristic sound of a baby spitting.

"What the... Charlie!"

June

You might have thought that having a child would take you and Leah away from your friends, but over the months you’ve found out that you were wrong. Charlie having the facility to sleep everywhere (you like to emphasize that she must take this from you), Leah and you have no difficulty in making her sleep anywhere and moving her without her waking up in her car seat, then in her bed. You know it can make some parents jealous, but it's your reality.

The proof again tonight, at the party organized by Viv and Beth at their home. Charlie is deeply asleep in her stroller, her cuddly llama tight against her, after taking her last bottle of the day. The temperature of the day allowed you to eat in the garden and this is still where you are. You rock Charlie’s stroller mechanically from time to time, despite the fact that Leah made you sit on her lap after the dessert.

"So when do you give us a second one?" asks Beth with a little a smirk.

"Clearly not right away" Leah replies immediately, making you smile.

It was a discussion you had a few weeks ago, to know if you wanted to have a second child and when. You were a little afraid to admit to Leah that you didn’t see yourself with a second child at the moment, but when Leah told you it was the same for her, you were very relieved. Charlie is adorable, easy and it’s a pleasure to have her by your side. But you want to enjoy it and honestly now that you have found a functioning that seems to suit to all three of you, you would be afraid that it would change if had a second child so quickly.

"Just make one yourself" you add with a mischievous smile.

Viv almost chokes on her drin, causing the amused laughters of the people around you.

"We have Myle, it’s going very well like this" Viv replies as Beth gives her little pats on the back.

"Did you just compare my baby princess to your dog or am I dreaming?" said Leah with a frown.

Feeling the argument getting ready when Beth in turn frowns and bends over to Leah to answer, Lia jumps on her legs and takes the blonde with her to help bring more water. Wise decision in your opinion and you mask your amused smile by laying a kiss on Leah’s cheek.

July

For your first summer family vacation, you and Leah decided to take off in the sun so that Leah could rest a little after a rather tiring season. You chose Spain and one of its islands. And the least you can say is that Charlie seems to acclimatize very well to the Spanish climate. Luckily for her, she doesn’t seem to have inherited Leah’s English skin, which is hard to tan.

You’re actually fighting with Charlie who hates sunscreen prodigiously and pushes your hands back every time you approach her face with it. She tolerates when you put it on her body, but on her face you have to arm yourself with patience. A distraction is however quickly brought by Leah, even if you would have done without it.

"What the hell are you doing with a giant inflatable llama?" you ask skeptically.

"He’s so handsome! And Charlie loves llamas"

That’s right. Her favorite to sleep is actually a soft, hairy llama that was given to her by Leah’s brother. You cowardly take advantage of Charlie’s distraction to quickly spread sunscreen on her face before letting her crawl to the llama. She skillfully climbs on it before sitting on it and applauding.

"See?" Leah smiled big before taking Charlie under one arm and the llama under the other.

"And where are you going?" you ask, with an amused smile.

"Having fun. Go back to your lame reading"

Leah pulls her tongue at you and you roll your eyes with an amused smile before sitting on the sun lounger decorated with sunscreen. But you don’t lie there, preferring to watch Charlie and Leah play in the water from afar. You make some photos and videos that you send to each of your mothers before deciding to join them.

The two blondes greet you with big smiles and you simply sit down next to her in the sand. It's impossible for you not to smile when you hear Charlie's laughter mixed with the laughter so recognizable and that you adore from Leah.

While you admire them both, you can’t help but wonder what you’ve done in your life to be so lucky. And you’re not just saying that because Leah’s swimsuit allows you to get a great view of her abs.

Your eyes are quickly intercepted by Leah, who addresses you her famous cocky smile.

"Haven’t you finished staring at me like that?"

"Never" you answer with a smile.

Leah laughs softly and you stand from the sand in which you sat, finally joining them in the water. One hand in Leah’s back, you kiss her. The blonde smiles tenderly, tightening against you but your moment is quickly interrupted by Charlie. Until then sitting on the llama, the little blonde seems to have suddenly decided to get on all fours and almost fall in the water.

"We’re going to have to work on your survival instinct, Baba" Leah says after preventing her from falling head first in the water.

September

Like every Sunday night, your meal consists of pizza since it's Leah’s cheating meal day. This lunch, also like every Sunday you don't have a football game, you went to eat at her parents' for the famous Sunday roast. When you got home, Charlie taking her last nap in the car, you bathed her before you ordered pizzas over the phone. Margarita for Leah and all cheese for you.

Meanwhile, Leah sat in the living room with Charlie and turned on the television to watch the Arsenal men’s football match. Dressed in her pajamas in the colors of Arsenal, Charlie is sitting next to her mat. Why sitting on something comfortable when you can have something cold? And she puts the shapes into her toy by lifting the plate rather than passing them through the holes, but nothing surprises you with this young lady anymore.

"Pizza orders" you tell Leah by sitting next to her

"Great baby" Leah says without leaving the screen.

You roll your eyes with a slight smile, watching Charlie continue to play. You enjoy watching your wife play with her teammates, but that’s not what made you want to watch other people play. Well, until you…

"Leah" you almost shout abruptly by grabbing her arm abruptly.

"What" jump the blonde.

You don’t answer, searching for your phone on the couch without leaving Charlie with your eyes. Leah quickly turns her gaze in the same direction as you, only to realize that Charlie has risen. And that she is walking.

Her first steps.

That you manage to immortalize with a "What the f…luff" from Leah in background. On the rest of the video, we see Charlie turning towards you with an interrogative look. But it's quickly erased by her big smile when you rush to take her in your arms.

December

"I can’t believe she’s already a year old" Leah whispers from behind you, her arms around your waist.

"I know" you sigh softly as you let yourself go against her.

You both watch Charlie sitting on the floor with Kyra and Alessia, playing with one of the toys she received as a gift. Even though she seems to have enjoyed the idea of tearing off the gift wrap more than anything else, the game finally seems to catch her attention.

You set up her first birthday party and probably exaggerated a bit about things, but Charlie seems to have enjoyed her day. Your close family was there, as were some of Leah’s teammates who eventually also play the role of aunties to Charlie.

Your daughter probably received too many gifts and seems to have taken a malignant pleasure in destroying the cake planned for the photo shoot. Photos you’ll cherish in a few months.

When you gently turn your face towards Leah to kiss her, you realize that tears are visible on her face.

"Are you crying?"

Well, maybe the question is stupid. Anyway, Leah is burying her face in the hollow of your neck before answering.

"No"

You smile softly, touched by your wife’s emotion. Leah’s breath is hot against your skin and it makes you shiver. Turning in her arms, you pass your arms around her.

"Come here, you big softy"

You lull her tenderly against you, happy that all the attention of others is on Charlie or on the remains of cakes that are still on their plates. If Leah likes to give an impression of mastery and distance in everyday life, her friends and family know that her sensitivity is one of her main characteristics.

"I love you" whispers Leah after a few seconds. "So much"

"I love you too" you smile tenderly.

When Leah pops her face out of your neck her eyes are dry but her cheeks still wet. You gently wipe them with your thumbs and kiss her tenderly, as you wanted to do at the base.

"And well done for the organization" Leah continues after your kiss. "That was perfect. Thanks for organizing that."

"Of course. But you helped me too"

Leah laughs at your amused smile. It’s true that she helped you a lot, especially when she learned that you had an appointment with a pastry chef to taste different mixes of tastes for Charlie’s birthday cake.

Your eyes turn to Charlie walking in your direction, leaving behind Alessia and Kyra who continue to play with her animal zoo. Since she took her first steps, the times you have seen her on all fours are counted on the fingers of the hand.

"Hi Baba" you smile as you lift her off the ground to take her in your arms.

You kiss her cheek and Charlie laughs when Leah does the same on the other side of her face.

"Photo!" cheerfully makes your mom when she appears suddenly in front of you.

You just have time to turn to her before your mother capture the moment. A photo that will end up enlarged above your television, then followed by many others when time will continue to offer you millions of other good moments and memories with them. All your life.

#woso x reader #woso imagine #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #woso fanfics

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thir10th · 6 months ago

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The getaway pt.1 - Emily Prentiss x fem!reader

ALL OF THESE CAN BE READ AS STAND-ALONES

summary: you and Emily have been dating for several months now. When you finally get a free weekend, you decide to go on a little secret romantic getaway. tw: nothing yet, just fluff, a tiny bit of suggestive content but it's literally just a conversation, nothing else. secret relationship. a/n: you guys seemed to really like the idea so here it is! this first chapter so it's mostly to set the mood

Your leg shakes under the dinner table, waiting for Emily to finish up cooking dinner, her body swings around the kitchen, moving fluidly and confidently at the rhythm of the music she had chosen to play to set the abience.

You know she loves cooking, but you also know after getting home from a week-long case, this is the last thing she wants to do.

She always insists: "no baby, i'll cook, you can just sit there and look pretty, let me take care of it" and you loved her for that, but it hasn't been 12 hours yet since you had chased an unsub for three blocks.

She deserved a break. You both did. You had already decided that.

The pasta plate she sets in front of you with a big smile takes you out of your head, you smile back, it smells amazing, there's no doubt about it.

"I'm starving" she says, dropping on the seat in front of you, grabbing a fork and rolling up the spaghetti.

You move the pasta around, looking at her eat, trying to decide how to phrase it.

"what?" she asks mouth-fulled, noticing your stare.

"I wanted to ask you something" she leaves the fork, slurps up one last spaghetti hanging from her lips, and wipes her mouth with the napkin. Now you have her full attention.

"ugh, I'm... flattered, but-" she says in a sarcastic tone, but you cut her.

"relax, Em, I'm not asking you to marry me" she chuckles "i was thinking... you know how, if no case comes in tomorrow by five, we are having the whole weekend for ourselves, right?" you start.

"yeah, why?" she asks impatiently.

"well, I was talking to Penelope the other day, about how she had found this amazing hotel with Kevin, how they had had the best time, with activities for couples, good food, a big pool, you know, all that" she listens carefully at your words, without interrupting you, takes a sip of her wine, and nods, considering the idea.

"ok look" you grab your purse, taking a booklet you had printed out specifically for this conversation, hoping the images would convince her, you hand it to her so she can take a look.

She runs her eyes, scanning the photos on the booklet and reading over the information.

"it's been a long week, you deserve a break. We deserve a break" you conclude.

"Ooh- each room has a hot tub, and full time room service! and a steam room too?" she points out, looking at the pictures.

"And a balcony with views of the pool from every room! this could be it, Em, it's perfect for us." you add, after spending the whole trip back on the plane looking at their website, you had pretty much memorized it.

Emily angled her head to meet your eye. “If I have my way, you’ll be too occupied to appreciate the views.” the playfulness of her words making you smirk.

"So is that a yes?" you sigh in relief.

"Of course, sign me up!" a wide smile of excitement crosses her face, you let out a triumphant sound, shooting from your seat, walking up to her to grab her face and kiss her lips.

She grabs you by the waist and pulls you to sit onto her lap, your arms surround her neck, her grip tight on your hips to hold you in place.

"Oh, this is gonna be so nice! Think about it, no kids, all inclusive hotel for couples, no more hiding, nothing to worry about, just swim, and sex, and food" she grins at your words, her thumb traces slow circles on the skin left uncovered your shirt

"I could get used to that" she says kissing you again, this time longer, lovingly.

"honey?" she says, pulling away. "Yes?"

"You have already made the reservation, haven't you?" her profiling skills really never fail to amaze you.

"they had an excellent limited time offer, and i was pretty confident you were gonna say yes once I'd show you the booklet" you admit, and she chuckles, instead of getting upset, she just smiles at you and pecks your lips

"what have i done to deserve you?" she says, the dreamy sound of her words making you blush.

"well, dinner just now, and i believe i heard you say something about that balcony? with the views?"

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

She frowns at her computer, sitting on her desk, she has been staring at the screen for a considerable amount of time now, you quietly walk behind her.

"exciting, isn't it?" she doesn't hear you coming by, your words startle her making her jump in her seat

"you scared me" she mutters so no one can hear the conversation.

"sorry" you sit on her desk, right in front of her "i just thought if you're gonna spend the last fifteen minutes staring at the clock, we should do it together"

She tries to fight the smile that threatens to spread on her face, she bites her lip and gives you a loving look with her big doe eyes.

"you know, this room is full of profilers, if they saw you here in my desk only a couple of minutes far from five, they might suspect something is going on here"

"something like what? no one has even noticed i'm here, i seat on your desk everyday, nothing new" you say, her eyes leave the computer screen to look at you now.

"oh, i don't know, something like: we have been dating for three months and as soon as we leave this building we are driving two hours to spend our weekend on a hotel resort for couples?" she says sarcastically.

"i just thought it would be fun to watch when the clock strikes 5:00 together, you know, just like in new year's eve, but without the kissing for obvious reasons. Although there will be plenty of that this weekend" she bites her tongue at your words. Teasing Emily has always been so much fun for you, since it's usually the other way around that she teases you.

"the last thing i want you to remind me is how we are actively lying at the people we care most about" she argues, trying to keep her cool

"well, no need to worry about that anymore" you say, and when you both look at the screen, the clock has turned. 5:00 pm, no case has come in, we're free" you state. You stay there, sharing a moment, you stare at each other's eyes.

"god, but how i wish i could kiss you right now" she mutters breaking the silence, her eyes move down to look at your lips, and just for a moment you consider the possibility of sending it all to hell and kissing her senseless right then and there.

"y/n, any plans for the weekend?" Morgan's presence takes you by surprise, he comes behind you carrying is bag, so close, it had been so close, but you'd have to pull up with your coworker's teasing too.

"uhm, yeah, well, not much, no, just, a movie maybe, but who knows really?" you say, Emily tries hiding her grin, but fails.

"did you hear about Prentiss' weekend?" Morgan asks, you shoot a look at her

"ugh, no, big plans?" you say looking at her, lifting an eyebrow in faked confusion

"She, is going away with her girlfriend" he teases, a cocky smile on his lips.

"a girlfriend?! Prentiss! who is the lucky girl?" you say, a little louder than intended. She looks annoyed now that you're joining the teasing from you coworker.

"it's a secret, apparently" Morgan explains, Emily opens her mouth to speak, but only a defeated sound comes out.

"what? really?" you keep up the play, but she shoots you a look of warning, one eyebrow up, her arm on her hip.

"ok, you know what? I'm gonna leave now, you guys can speculate all you want" she takes her bag, and walks to the elevator, you and Derek follow her closely, she does her best to hide her smile.

"hey, I myself feel pretty offended that she won't tell us, after all we've been through, don't you think I deserve a little better?" he says, holding his hand to his chest, while you three wait for the elevator.

"Now, I'm having some ideas of what you deserve right now" the slightly threatening tone of her voice makes your heart throb. You just want to let her push you against that elevator door, let her do whatever she wants to you.

"you know what, I think I'm gonna keep it to myself, just this one time" she concludes, getting out of the elevator, Morgan whines, but she doesn't let it go.

"ok, this way for me" he says, turning right to go find his parking spot

"I'll walk with you" you tell Emily, the corners of your lips curving into a smile. You both say goodbye to Morgan, he leaves with one last "i hope you have a nice one, Prentiss!" and leaves.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Entering the room, you realize how more spacious and comfortable it is that you though, although you should've guessed, considering the fact that i could fit a hot tub on one corner, a full bathroom and the king-sized bed without making it feel narrow.

The hotel bellboy opens the room for you, hands you both of your keys, and leaves. Emily had already taken it upon herself to carry the bags, as they aren't all that heavy. Plus she loved doing those kinds of things for you, carrying your bags, the kind of things you would tease her about for being the chivalrous kid of girlfriend.

After all, you're only staying for a weekend, even if Emily didn't really understand that you don't actually need that many pairs of shoes for only just two nights total.

You look around everywhere, walk to the bathroom, the shower is perfectly big enough to fit you both, and two sinks. You check the hot tub, nd finish your tour by walking to the windows and opening the curtains.

The broad balcony has two chairs, and direct views to the pool, you're high enough to go completely unnoticed by anyone who looked up from it.

You drop to the big bed, star-fished out, meanwhile Emily leaves both your bags right next to the bed.

You sit up, standing to meet her as she looks around the room herself, appreciating the size of it.

"wow, this is almost bigger than my living room" she says, still surprised.

You walk up to her, grab her by the hips and pulling her to you "what do you think?" you ask, she surrounds your neck with her arms, and kisses you sweetly.

"mh, i love it" she purrs, a soft smile on her lips, and kisses you again, this time softer, longer, her lips soft and reassuring, making sure you knew how much she loved it.

"and I love you" she says, her hands running through your back now, "even if you just spent a considerable amount of time mocking me" she adds, and you chuckle.

"it was perfect, he doesn't suspect a thing!" you try to defend yourself, but she's already kissing your neck, finding your pulse point that she knows drives you crazy

"yeah but you didn't think i'd let you just get away with it just like that, mh?" she says, trapping your earlobe between her teeth and biting it softly.

"well, as much as you know i want this, we have to go down for dinner, because someone claimed she didn't need any directions to find the parking lot, and that took about, half an hour" you say teasingly, giving her a soft swat on her ass, unwrapping your arms off her waist to hold her hand.

Emily pouts at the loss of contact, interwining her fingers with yours "well, i found it didn't i? yes, it might have taken me a little longer than expected...."

"half an hour, Emily! We are gonna miss dinner, c'mon, and you can think about how to 'not let me get away with it' when we get back" you grab the room key, and pull her with you, walking out and heading to the elevator door.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

okkk what are we thinking? this was an introduction more than anything, just to set the story.

Feedback here would be greatly appreciated, specially because if you guys have any ideas on how i should continue, or any specific scenarios, i'd be happy to try to add it!!

Like & reblog as always, I'll be publishing the next chapters as i write them so stay tuned for that <33

268 notes · View notes

glearyyyne · 7 months ago

Text

Deja Vu Part 2

Part 1

Synopsis: Meeting you again was great for satoru as he began to sleep more just to meet you it began to be a problem in his real life, he tried to fix this problem but only ended up losing you.

Word Count: 6,025 Words

Warning: Angst, Sleeping pills, insomnia, mention of death, Imaginary friends (?)

Note: It's been a long time since I last posted I was just super duper busy with school and also because I got sick but thankfully I finished part 2 so enjoy!!!

_____________________________________________________________

"Today's training was so hard, I’m not even exaggerating. What the heck is that strength in those puppets that Yaga-sensei owns?!" Satoru ventured out on you as you listened to him, with your back against the tree while he was laying on your lap as Tomorrow was sleeping soundly and curled up beside Satoru.

"That's why you shouldn't judge them based on their appearance," you told him, as Satoru whined because he expected you to side him up.

As a month passed since you and Satoru met again and he apologized for forgetting the promise, you reassured him that it's fine, though he continued apologizing whenever he got the chance.

You noticed how he appeared at the usual time as it means he started sleeping more just to meet you.

His daily routine became a rhythm: waking up, showering, eating, school, training, returning home, eating again, and brushing his teeth before heading to bed, just to meet you at the same place on the hill.

One day, you asked him, "Don't you think that the phrase 'you come at four o'clock in the afternoon, then at three o'clock I shall begin to be happy' sounds romantic?”

"Why?" Satoru asked, his curiosity piqued by your comment.

You smiled softly, feeling warmth in your chest as you gazed into his eyes.

"Because it shows the anticipation and joy of waiting for someone you care about. Just like how I eagerly await our time together every day, knowing that seeing you brings happiness to my heart.” You answered.

Satoru's smile widened, and he gently intertwined his hand with yours, his touch sending a comforting warmth through you.

As he leaned in, he placed a soft kiss on the back of your hand, eliciting a delighted giggle from you.

Satoru's heart raced with anticipation as he leaned closer to you, feeling the moment swell with tenderness.

Just as he was about to close the distance between you for a kiss, the sound of a table slamming jolted him awake.

Confusion clouded his senses as he looked around, only to see Shoko and Geto trying to suppress their laughter, while Yaga glared at him with disappointment.

Satoru realized he had fallen asleep in class.

Oh…

"Satoru!" Yaga's voice boomed, filled with disappointment.

"This is the third time this week you've fallen asleep in my class. Do you think becoming a sorcerer entails sleeping through your studies?" He added.

Satoru's cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he stammered out an apology. "I'm sorry, Sensei. It won't happen again."

Yaga sighed heavily, shaking his head. "You have potential, Satoru, but you need to apply yourself more. Don't let your laziness overshadow your talent."

Feeling chastised, Satoru nodded solemnly, determined to make amends for his lack of focus.

As the lecture finally came to an end, Satoru, Geto, and Shoko walked out of the classroom together. Satoru couldn't help but groan in frustration as the teasing from his friends began.

Geto chuckled, nudging Satoru playfully. "Looks like someone was having sweet dreams in class, huh?"

Shoko joined in, giggling teasingly. "I wonder who you were dreaming about, Satoru. Maybe a certain someone or a wet dream?"

Satoru rolled his eyes, trying to play it off coolly. "Ha ha, very funny, you two. Let's just focus on getting through the rest of the day without any more embarrassment, okay?”

But geto and shoko shared a look of concern that satoru didn't notice.

"Satoru, you know we're here for you, right?" Shoko's tone softened, her concern evident in her words.

Satoru stopped walking, his expression puzzled as he stared at his friends. "What?" he replied, unsure of what they were getting at.

Geto stepped forward, his voice gentle yet firm. "We're just worried about you, Satoru. You've been distant lately, and falling asleep in class isn't like you. Is everything okay?”

Satoru laughed nervously, trying to brush off their concern. "Come on, guys, no need to overthink things. I'm just tired from all the training."

But Shoko's serious expression stopped him in his tracks. "We're not joking, Satoru. We're genuinely worried about you."

Satoru's laughter faded as he paused, his mind racing as he tried to figure out what could be wrong.

Satoru stayed silent for a moment before finally speaking up, his voice strained. "I'm... fine," he said, his words lacking conviction. Shoko was about to respond when Satoru suddenly quickened his pace, leaving the two of them alone.

Shoko let out a heavy sigh, watching Satoru's retreating figure with concern etched on her face. Geto gently patted her shoulder, offering a comforting gesture. "He's maybe just handling some heir duty, you know?" he suggested.

"Yeah, but it feels unusual to not see the usual goofy Satoru we know," Shoko replied, her worry evident in her voice.

***

Satoru's chest heaved as he slammed the door to his dorm room, exhaustion weighing heavily on him after his impromptu marathon from school.

Taking a moment to catch his breath, he went to the bathroom, the fatigue evident in every step.

Turning on the faucet, he splashed cool water onto his face, hoping to wash away some of the weariness that clung to him.

As he looked up into the mirror, he couldn't help but notice the dark circles under his eyes, a stark reminder of his recent lack of sleep.

Satoru sighed, realizing that his sunglasses wouldn't be enough to conceal the evidence of his exhaustion.

Making a mental note to buy some concealer, he reached into a drawer and retrieved the sleeping pills he had been relying on for the past two weeks.

The weight of his actions hung heavy on him as he stared at the pills in his hand, a silent admission of his desperation to meet you again, even at the expense of his own well-being.

Satoru's gaze lingered on the sleeping pills, his mind filled with conflicting emotions. The memory of Shoko and Geto's concern weighed heavily on him, their worried expressions etched into his thoughts.

He couldn't shake the guilt that gnawed at him, knowing that his actions were causing his friends unnecessary worry.

But then, a different image surfaced in his mind.

It was you, smiling and waiting for him on the hill, your presence filling him with a warmth and comfort he couldn't find elsewhere.

The thought of seeing you again, of basking in your company, pushed aside his doubts and fears.

With a heavy heart, Satoru tightened his grip on the pills, his resolve wavering.

Ultimately, the longing to be with you won out. With a resigned sigh, he opened the bottle and retrieved a single pill, swallowing it down with a gulp of water.

As the pill slid down his throat, Satoru couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. But at that moment, the promise of meeting you again was enough to silence his doubts, if only temporarily.

Satoru moved quickly, stashing the bottle of pills back into the drawer before making his way to the mini-fridge.

Retrieving a bottle of water, he took a few gulps to help swallow the pill more easily, the cool liquid soothing his parched throat.

Once he finished drinking, he made his way to his bed, the exhaustion weighing heavily on him.

As he lay down, he could feel the effects of the pill beginning to take hold, a gentle wave of drowsiness washing over him.

Closing his eyes, Satoru let himself succumb to the embrace of sleep, the promise of meeting you again lingering in his mind as he drifted off into dreams.

***

As Satoru slowly blinked his eyes open, he was met with the sight of you standing at the top of the hill, a warm smile gracing your lips. Tomorrow wagged their tail excitedly, adding to the joyous atmosphere.

Unconsciously, a smile spread across Satoru's face as he made his way toward you.

Once he reached the top, you enveloped him in a tight hug, filling him with a sense of warmth and comfort.

With a mischievous smirk, Satoru scooped you up in his arms, twirling you around as you held tightly onto his shoulders.

"Having fun yet?" he teased, reveling in the playful moment as you giggled and protested, urging him to put you down.

Gently, Satoru lowered you back to the ground, his hands tenderly cupping your cheeks as he gazed into your eyes with affection.

Without a word, he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in a tender, passionate kiss.

You responded eagerly, the kiss deepening as you lost yourself in the moment.

But the sound of Tomorrow's whining broke the spell, causing you both to pull away, giggling at the interruption.

"Well, someone's feeling left out," you teased Tomorrow, kneeling to scoop them up into your arms. "Don't worry, Tomorrow, we won't forget about you."

Tomorrow's tail wagged furiously as they licked your face in excitement, their whines quickly turning into joyful barks as they enjoyed the attention.

While laughing, you carried Tomorrow, feeling grateful for the joy they brought to your moments together.

Satoru smiled warmly at the sight of you and Tomorrow, feeling a sense of contentment wash over him. You two always had a way of making him smile, no matter what challenges he faced.

Before long, the three of you settled onto the grass, leaning against the sturdy trees as you engaged in a heartfelt conversation about life.

Satoru shared his dreams and aspirations with you, opening up about his hopes for the future.

You listened intently, offering words of encouragement and support, while Tomorrow nestled comfortably between you, their presence a comforting reminder of the bonds you shared.

As the peaceful moment enveloped you, Satoru's words cut through the atmosphere.

"This moment feels so good, yet I feel scared about what will come next," he confessed, his tone tinged with uncertainty.

Concern etched across your face, “Why?” You asked him.

"I don't know," Satoru replied, his voice heavy with self-doubt. "I don't think I deserve to be here, all happy while ignoring the sins I've committed as a sorcerer."

His words hung in the air, laden with the weight of his conscience. You reached out, taking his hand in yours, offering silent support and understanding as he grappled with his inner demons.

"I promise, we'll navigate through this together, no matter what obstacles come our way," you reassure him, your voice filled with conviction.

As you caress his hand with your thumb, you convey a sense of comfort and solidarity, silently promising to stand by his side through thick and thin, come what may, whether it be heaven or hell.

Satoru smiled softly at your words, but all good things must come to an end.

Satoru's smile faltered as Tomorrow abruptly woke up from their nap, their ears twitching in alarm as they searched for the source of the disturbance.

Before anyone could react, Tomorrow bolted away, leaving you and Satoru speechless in their wake.

"Tomorrow!" you shouted, instinctively moving to follow them, but Satoru gently grasped your arm, stopping you in your tracks.

"Hey, calm down," he urged, his voice steady despite the concern etched on his face.

But you were frantic, your mind racing with worry.

"I can't calm down," you insisted, your voice trembling with anxiety.

"It's been a while since Tomorrow acted like this. Something bad will happen, I just know it. That's why they ran away, to try and hide somewhere safe.” You explained.

Satoru was about to ask you when you managed to slip off of Satoru's grip and chase after Tomorrow, leaving him standing there in confusion, a sense of regret began to gnaw at him.

He hesitated for a moment, unsure whether to follow you or stay behind.

But as he watched you disappear into the distance, a sinking feeling settled in his chest.

He knew deep down that he would regret not chasing after you at that moment.

Little did he know, that decision marked the beginning of a streak of bad luck that would haunt him in the days to come.

The following days unfolded like a nightmare for Satoru.

With the passing of the Star Plasma Vessel and Geto's horrifying massacre of his hometown, additionally, with Geto being expelled from Jujutsu High, Satoru felt like he was drowning in despair.

Each passing day seemed to weigh heavier on his soul, and he found himself struggling to cope with the harsh realities unfolding around him.

Unable to bear the crushing weight of the world on his shoulders, Satoru turned to sleeping pills more frequently, desperate to see you, even if only in his dreams.

At first, he convinced himself that he was fine, that the pills were just a temporary escape from the harshness of reality.

But as time went on, he realized that he had become dependent on them, relying on their numbing effects to shield him from the pain of the world outside.

And when he was caught, everything came crashing down around him.

Yaga's stern gaze bore into him as he slammed the bottle of sleeping pills onto the table, the harsh sound echoing through the room.

Satoru knelt before him, feeling a wave of shame and guilt wash over him as he realized the extent of his trouble.

Yaga sighed heavily, his hand rubbing his forehead in exasperation. "Satoru, I need you to explain to me why you're taking these medications when Shoko never prescribed them for you," he demanded, his tone stern.

Satoru cursed inwardly, cursing himself for leaving the door unlocked while he slept, which gave Shoko the advantage to sneak inside his dorm.

‘If only I hadn't been so careless,’ he thought bitterly. He knew there was no escaping the truth now; he would be caught sooner or later.

Satoru met Yaga's gaze with a sigh, knowing he had no choice but to come clean.

"I just couldn't sleep at the right time with all of the mess happening these days, that's why I'm taking them," Satoru explained, carefully keeping the part about using the pills to see you.

Yaga sighed, his expression skeptical. "It feels like you're not telling the whole truth," he said, his voice tinged with disappointment.

"I am telling the truth," Satoru insisted, meeting Yaga's gaze with pleading eyes, hoping to convince him of his sincerity.

Yaga sighed heavily, the weight of the decision evident in his expression. "I have no choice, Satoru, but to have you put on the monitor," he said regretfully.

"We can't risk you obtaining more sleeping pills without our knowledge. You know how your clan behaves when they suspect something has happened to their heir. It's best to have Shoko come to your room periodically to prevent any conflict between your clan and Jujutsu High." Yaga explained.

Satoru sighed in defeat, knowing there was little he could do to argue against Yaga's reasoning.

With a nod, he agreed to the arrangement, accepting the consequences of his actions.

Yaga dismissed him with a wave of his hand, and Satoru left the classroom with a heavy heart, walking through the hallway with an annoyed look, feeling the weight of his mistakes pressing down on him.

Satoru was feeling more stressed.

Shoko's heart raced as she watched Satoru emerge from the room, feeling relief and concern. Without hesitation, she hurried over to him, reaching out to grab his wrist and stop him in his tracks.

"What?" Satoru asked, annoyance evident in his tone as he turned abruptly to face her.

"Thank goodness," Shoko began, her words tumbling out in a rush of relief. "I was worried Yaga-sensei might expel you or something because of the pills-"

But before she could finish her sentence, Satoru cut her off, his frustration evident. "Why? Why did you come to my room last night?" he demanded, his voice tinged with irritation.

Caught off guard, Shoko nervously laughed, trying to diffuse the tension. "Well, I was just trying to check up on my friend. Isn't that wrong?" she asked, hoping to deflect his question.

Satoru scoffed at Shoko's response, his frustration bubbling over. "At night? Seriously? You could've come when it was daylight!" he raised his voice, his irritation palpable.

"It's not my fault that I was just worried about you, Satoru!" Shoko shouted back, her voice cracking with emotion. "I'm scared. I'm scared of what's happening to you after what happened to Geto. I-I didn't want to lose you now that Geto's gone," she explained, tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

"You could've died there, Satoru, if you'd taken more than one pill," Shoko added earnestly, her voice trembling with concern.

But Satoru seemed to dismiss her words, his frustration boiling over. "We wouldn't even be in this situation if you knew your place! This is my business, Ieri, and I don't need you to meddle in it!" he angrily expressed, his tone cutting and harsh.

Shoko flinched at the sudden intensity of his words, taken aback by the venom in his voice. It was the first time she had seen Satoru react with such anger, and it left her feeling shaken and hurt.

As Satoru walked away, leaving Shoko standing there alone, he felt a pang of guilt wash over him.

He sighed heavily, realizing how his outburst had scared her, someone who had always been there for him. Despite his frustration, he knew he had crossed a line.

Rushing back to his dorm, he slammed the door loudly behind him, the sound echoing through the room. His hands trembled as he ruffled his hair in a disheveled state, his mind consumed by chaotic thoughts.

The name of the sleeping pill echoed in his mind, tempting him with its false promises of escape.

With a sinking feeling, Satoru slowly began to realize the depths of his addiction to sleeping pills. It was a realization that filled him with both shame and dread, knowing that he was spiraling further into darkness with each passing day.

As Satoru struggled with his addiction to sleeping pills, he found himself haunted by memories of your sweet-drunk smile, a tantalizing allure that he couldn't shake.

In moments of weakness, his hand would instinctively reach out as if trying to grasp onto your image, only to be met with empty air.

With a heavy sigh, Satoru covered his face with his hands, feeling the weight of his longing pressing down on him. He knew he needed to be patient, to wait for the night to come when he could hopefully find sleep without relying on the pills.

But the knowledge that the pills had been confiscated only added to his anxiety, leaving him feeling helpless and vulnerable.

As Satoru found himself on the familiar hill, he couldn't shake off the feeling of unease that hung in the air.

The atmosphere, usually filled with joy and comfort, now seemed to give a gloomy vibe that unsettled him.

Searching for you, Satoru's eyes scanned the surroundings, hoping to catch a glimpse of your familiar figure.

His heart sank when he spotted you, leaning against the tree with your back turned to him. Tomorrow was nowhere in sight, adding to the anxiety inside him.

With cautious steps, Satoru approached you, a knot of worry forming in his stomach.

He couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong, and he feared what he might discover when he finally reached your side.

Satoru's heart sank as he knelt beside you, his concern growing as he took in the sight of your tear-streaked face. His eyes widened in shock as he noticed the swelling and blood on your cheek, his instincts kicking in as he gently wiped away the blood.

"What happened? Why are you crying? Where is Tomorrow?" Satoru's questions tumbled out in a rush, his mind racing with worry.

But as you slowly revealed what you were hiding, he was speechless.

Satoru stared in disbelief as you slowly revealed Tomorrow's unconscious body, blood staining its fur. His breath caught in his throat as the truth sank in.

Tomorrow was dead.

As you gently placed Tomorrow's lifeless body on the ground and placed your hand on Satoru's shoulder, he tried to process the devastating turn of events. But his thoughts were interrupted by your words, leaving him in disbelief.

"Satoru, listen to me, okay?" you said, your voice trembling with emotion. "I know it's been fun to meet you here but promise me you'll stop coming here from now on."

The words hit Satoru like a knife, leaving him in shock. "Stop coming? No, no, you don't understand," he protested, desperation creeping into his voice. "You told me we could overcome this!"

Tears streamed down your face as you struggled to explain.

"I'm... I'm sorry. I can't fulfill that promise to overcome this, not when Tomorrow's gone," you sobbed, your grief overwhelming.

"No, we- we can find some way-" Before Satoru could finish, you spoke again, your words cutting through the air like a knife.

"No! You don't understand, Satoru! I'm nothing more than just your imagination! That's why your maids or your family can't see me back then! You... you just can't accept that I'm not real!" Your voice cracked with anguish, delivering a cold truth that left Satoru speechless.

"I... I can't stop because this is my only escape from the world that's turned its back against me," Satoru slowly explained, his voice choked with emotion as tears streamed down his face.

You reached out, gently removing his sunglasses, revealing his shining blue eyes brimming with tears of pain. Your heart ached at the sight, knowing the depth of his suffering.

"I know it's hard, but... Satoru, you need to let me go, please," you begged, your voice trembling with desperation. Despite the pain it caused you, you knew it was the only way for him to not hide away from reality.

Satoru's heart pounded in his chest as he shook his head, refusing to accept what you were saying. But you insisted, your voice filled with sorrow and resignation as you apologized for what you were about to do.

"I'm sorry for what I will do to you Satoru," you told him.

Before Satoru could protest, you pushed him with unexpected force.

His eyes widened in shock as he stumbled backward, expecting to feel the grass beneath him. But instead, he was engulfed by darkness, falling into a black hole that seemed to swallow him whole.

Desperate to call out to you, Satoru opened his mouth to scream your name, but no sound came out.

It was as if his voice had been stolen again, leaving him trapped in a silent void of despair.

Satoru's heart raced as he woke up abruptly, disoriented and gasping for breath. Panic surged through him as he tried to make sense of his surroundings, his eyes scanning the unfamiliar white ceiling above him.

"Oh god, you're finally awake," a voice exclaimed, and Satoru quickly turned to see Shoko standing beside him.

"Why am I here?" Satoru asked, his voice trembling with confusion as he attempted to sit up, but Shoko gently stopped him.

"Stop moving, you've been in a coma for like 3 days," Shoko explained, her voice tinged with concern.

Satoru's eyes widened in shock at the revelation, his mind struggling to comprehend what had happened during those lost days of unconsciousness.

As Satoru processed Shoko's words, flashes of memories flooded his mind, each one more painful than the last.

He remembered the broken look on your face, the tears streaming down your cheeks as you pleaded with him to stop coming back, to let you go.

The image of you holding Tomorrow's lifeless body, your grief-stricken expression etched into his memory, haunted him.

He felt a heavy weight settle in his chest as he stared at his hands, grappling with the realization that maybe he had caused you so much pain.

What has gone wrong?

Shoko observed how lost Satoru seemed in his thoughts, his expression clouded with confusion. With a sigh, she gently drew his attention back to the present.

"I think you were consuming too many of the pills," Shoko stated, her tone laced with concern.

"It's left you malnourished. I never thought I'd see a day when you'd be malnourished... Were you not eating enough food after school?"

Satoru blinked, surprised by her observation. "I do eat," he replied, his voice tinged with defensiveness.

"I just feel really sleepy after class, so I head to bed early." Despite his explanation, he couldn't shake the unease that settled in the pit of his stomach.

Shoko eyed Satoru suspiciously, her intuition telling her that there was more to the story.

"But you still managed to fall asleep in Sensei's class, even though you got enough sleep after class?" she pressed her tone firm.

Caught off guard, Satoru choked on his saliva, feeling caught once again.

"Sensei's class is boring!" he blurted out, attempting to defend himself with a weak excuse.

But even as the words left his mouth, he knew that Shoko saw right through his feeble attempt to deflect the conversation.

She only sighed and continued to discuss his condition and the need for him to stay in the infirmary room for the time being, Satoru listened attentively, though his mind was elsewhere.

His thoughts were consumed by you, by the desperate need to find a way to fix what had gone wrong between you two.

Even as Shoko left the room to give him some rest, Satoru couldn't shake the weight of his guilt and the ache of his longing for you.

He glanced down at his arm, confirming what Shoko said that he was indeed malnourished.

He knew he should be eating, but the thought of food left him feeling nauseous, his appetite suppressed by his overwhelming emotions.

Closing his eyes, Satoru tried to sleep, hoping to find solace in the dream where he could see you again and make things right. But in his dream…

He never saw you at the top of the hill.

Satoru groggily muttered, "Fuck, what day is it?" as he rubbed his tired eyes.

It had been a week since he started isolating himself in the infirmary room.

Unable to accept the reality that every time he slept, he couldn't meet you, instead finding himself trapped in a dark void that haunted him, he struggled to find rest, battling with insomnia.

Whenever Shoko tried to check up on him, he would turn his infinity on, shutting himself off from the outside world.

He couldn't bear the thought of anyone touching him, not when he couldn't distinguish between reality and the fading memory of you.

Satoru's head swiveled softly towards the door at the sound of the knock, but he remained silent, refusing to acknowledge Yaga's presence.

"Satoru, I heard what happened. I placed some food by the door so you can open up and eat," Yaga's voice filtered through the door, a note of concern evident in his tone.

"I know it's hard, but please let Shoko check up on you. We need to find the problem you're facing right now."

But Satoru shook his head, his hand instinctively covering his ear, blocking out Yaga's words. He had no desire to hear from him anymore.

Anxiety rushed through Satoru, overwhelming him as he felt desperate to see you again.

His thoughts raced, his heart pounding with the need to escape the suffocating darkness that surrounded him.

In a moment of desperation, he remembered the stash of sleeping pills hidden away in one of the drawers in the infirmary room.

Without hesitation, he got out of bed, his movements frantic as he searched through every drawer, his hands trembling with anticipation.

Each drawer he opened revealed nothing but disappointment, sending a surge of frustration coursing through him.

As Satoru frantically searched through the drawers, his agitation growing with each empty one he encountered, he muttered under his breath, "Where is it?"

His voice was tinged with desperation, his hands shaking as he rifled through the contents, his heart pounding with the need to find the sleeping pills.

As Satoru's hands finally closed around the container of sleeping pills, a sense of relief washed over him.

Without hesitation, he opened the container and tipped the remaining pills into his hand.

He knew he should only take one, but the overwhelming desperation to see you again clouded his judgment.

In a reckless act, he swallowed all the pills in one swift motion, ignoring the warning signs flashing in his mind.

The room spun around him, his vision growing dizzy as he collapsed to the ground, the effects of the pills taking hold with frightening speed.

Satoru woke up to find himself lying on the grass in an endless field, he stood up to dust off the dirt on his clothes before he proceeded to shout.

Satoru's voice echoed across the endless field as he shouted you and Tomorrow's name, his desperation showed in every word. "I'm sorry, please! Don't just push me away like that!" he pleaded, his voice tinged with anguish.

Before he could continue shouting, a magical sound filled the air, causing him to turn around. His heart skipped a beat as he saw a glowing figure standing before him, eerily identical to you.

"[Reader's Name]?" Satoru whispered, his voice barely above a breath. But before he could reach out to touch you, the glowing figure turned and ran, disappearing into the distance.

Driven by an overwhelming sense of longing, Satoru chased after the figure, his heart pounding in his chest as he searched desperately for a way to reach that glowing person.

As Satoru continued to chase the glowing figure across the endless field, time seemed to blur together, the passage of hours unnoticed in his desperate chase.

It was only when he felt the sun beginning to set, casting a golden hue over the landscape, that he realized how much time had passed.

Finally, the glowing figure slowed to a stop, and Satoru halted as well, his chest heaving with exertion. "Is that you?" he gasped out, his voice barely a whisper as he stared at the radiant form before him.

But no matter how much he strained to see, the figure's face remained obscured by the intense light, leaving Satoru with more questions than answers.

The frustration and longing welled up inside him, an ache in his heart that seemed impossible to soothe.

The glowing figure approached Satoru, their touch gentle as they caressed his cheek, a bittersweet warmth emanating from their hand. As they spoke, their words pierced through Satoru's heart like a knife, each syllable carrying the weight of undeniable truth.

"They're gone. They're just your imagination," the figure said softly, their voice echoing in the empty expanse of the field. "You need to let them go."

Tears threatened to spill from Satoru's eyes as he shook his head in denial. "No, no, it can't be," he protested, his voice trembling with anguish.

"They were created by your mind when you were a child, desperate for friends," the glowing figure continued, their tone filled with compassion. "Now that you're growing into adulthood, your mind is beginning to reject them, to erase them. But your heart clings to them, unwilling to let go. Please, forget them, or it will only hurt them more."

Satoru's heart felt heavy with grief as he grappled with the painful realization that you and Tomorrow may have only ever existed within the confines of his imagination. But even as he struggled to accept the truth, a part of him resisted, unwilling to relinquish the memories and the love he held for you both.

As the truth sank in, Satoru's heart clenched with sorrow, understanding now why Tomorrow had run away.

Their instincts had sensed the impending rejection by his mind, prompting them to seek refuge in hiding.

"Will I ever meet them?" Satoru asked, his voice tinged with a mix of hope and resignation as he gazed at the glowing figure before him, though he already knew the answer.

"Unfortunately, I don't have the right to tell you that," the figure replied, their voice filled with a gentle sadness. "I only came here to see your determination to [reader's name]."

Satoru's heart sank at the confirmation of what he had feared.

"They're in a better place for them now, don't worry," the glowing figure reassured Satoru, their words offering a glimmer of solace amid his anguish.

Satoru's lips curled into a soft smile at the thought of you and Tomorrow finding peace, but it was quickly overshadowed by the overwhelming flood of tears that spilled from his eyes. With a heavy heart, he sank to his knees, the weight of his grief pressing down on him like a crashing wave.

As he cried out in anguish, consumed by the pain of loss, he didn't even notice how the glowing figure slowly began to fade away, their presence fading into the darkness of the night.

Alone in the dim light of the setting sun, Satoru whispered his apologies into the empty expanse of the field, his words lost to the vastness of the night sky.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry [reader's name]," he murmured, his voice filled with a raw, unspoken sorrow that echoed into the darkness.

I’ll never forget you [reader’s name]...

I’ll never ever forget you, I promise…

I’ll never… who am I not supposed to forget?

Satoru's head snapped up, a surge of panic coursing through him as he struggled to recall the name of the person he shouldn't be forgetting.

"No—no, who— who was it?!" he exclaimed frantically, his mind racing in a desperate attempt to grasp onto the fading memory.

With trembling hands, he opened his palm and used his finger as an imaginary pen, trying to spell out the name of that person.

But try as he might, all he could manage was to draw a line, his efforts futile as the name slipped further and further from his grasp.

Tears stung his eyes once more as the weight of his forgetfulness settled upon him, a crushing reminder of the fragments of his reality slipping away. In that moment of vulnerability, he felt utterly lost.

Satoru cried out in pain as his head throbbed, feeling like it might explode. He tried to stand up but stumbled and fell again.

Everything spun around him, and he couldn't find his balance. Before he knew it, he was falling into the darkness once more, feeling helpless and scared he screamed, but his voice disappeared into the black hole.

He felt like he was disappearing too, lost in the darkness and unable to find his way back.

***

"Satoru!" The voice called out urgently, pulling Satoru from the depths of unconsciousness. His eyes fluttered open, his vision blurry as he struggled to make out the figures hovering over him.

As his surroundings slowly came into focus, Satoru realized he was lying in an infirmary bed. Shoko and Yaga stood beside him, their expressions a mix of concern and relief.

"Satoru, thank goodness you're awake," Shoko exclaimed, her voice filled with worry. "We were so worried about you. You almost didn't make it. You overdosed on the sleeping pills, but thankfully, you survived."

Yaga nodded solemnly, his brow furrowed with concern. "You gave us quite a scare, Satoru," he added, his voice tinged with relief that Satoru had pulled through.

Satoru's heart clenched with guilt as he listened to their words, the realization of how close he had come to losing everything hitting him like a punch to the gut.

“I’m sorry” Satoru's voice trembled as he muttered a heartfelt apology, tears welling up in his eyes once more.

Shoko and Yaga moved closer to him, offering words of comfort and reassurance, their presence a source of solace in his moment of vulnerability.

Throughout the day, they spoke to him, their words a steady stream of support and encouragement.

But despite their efforts to console him, Satoru's mind remained preoccupied with thoughts of the person he had been trying so desperately to remember.

Who are you?

#gojo x reader #jjk gojo #gojo angst #jjk #jjk angst #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu satoru #gojo satoru #jujutsu sorcerer #angst

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stayinlimbo · 9 months ago

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she kissed me and i tasted you again

summary: the second worst thing to happen in minho’s life was losing you. he’s still living with the first.

pairing: lee minho x f!reader genre: angst (and i mean it) WARNINGS: implied character death, a non-consensual kiss, grief, drinking, swearing, slightly unedited, intended lowercase please do not read if any of these themes are triggering. word count: 1.91k note: please read the warnings! i had "leave me alone" by daniel seavey on repeat while writing this. i hope you enjoy ♡ please like, comment, and/or reblog; they are always appreciated

minho shouldn’t have listened to chan.

the blend of colorful strobe lights, though vibrant, does little to illuminate the dark room he finds himself in. the smell of alcohol and smoke permeates the air, stinging his eyes and nose as he blindly pushes through the numerous people blocking his way. an involuntary gag almost escapes him at the overwhelming body odor of the man he just brushed past.

at first, a “boys’ night out” to end a stressful work week didn’t sound like the worst idea minho had heard come from his friend’s mouth. now, though, the combination of being pressed between sweaty bodies and the mediocre club music pulsating in the background was reason enough for him to want to end the night prematurely and return to the familiarity of his home.

but he can’t. not if he wants chan’s disappointed face to haunt him for the rest of the weekend.

because chan is just trying to help. or at least that’s what minho tells himself every time he is dragged out of his small one-bedroom apartment to entertain his friend’s version of fun. last week was camping, which minho would normally enjoy if chan had bothered to check the weather forecast’s warnings of heavy rain and strong winds (he only lasted twenty minutes before sprinting back into the car, forcing a reluctant chan to take him home drenched and in a darkened mood).

the thinning crowd reveals minho’s destination; the bar is too small for the number of people surrounding the countertop but chan’s broad stature is identifiable enough in the poor lighting for minho to walk over and squeeze himself beside him. on the other side of his friend, a woman holds chan’s attention as the two talk animatedly about somethi-

minho’s eyes widen, sparing his friend’s back an incredulous glance. his pulse quickens, a rapid rhythm pounding in his chest, as snippets of their conversation reach his ears; the phrases knows how to cook, really good dancer, three cats, single, spew haphazardly out of chan’s mouth and echo in minho’s mind. the woman’s cheerful laughter resonates against the music's throbbing bass and the blood rushing in his ears.

oh. oh. they’re talking about him.

“chan,” minho’s voice is a low murmur, barely audible enough for the older man to hear, “what’re you doing?”

minho’s question hangs in the air as chan’s rambling suddenly stops, carefully turning his body to face minho’s intense stare.

the discomfort radiating off the younger is obvious. shifting in his stance, minho can’t help the slight furrow of his brows; the hardness of his eyes wanes as they flicker between chan and the woman before finally resting on his friend’s face.

softly exhaling, chan gives him a knowing look.

fuck.

minho remains silent as his grip on the bar’s edge tightens, avoiding chan’s sympathetic gaze. he knows what’s coming—the well-intentioned yet painful words that carve a hole in his heart every time they are uttered:

“its been over a year, minho. she’d want you to be happy… i want you to be happy”

minho’s eyes screw shut at his friend’s words.

perhaps it’s the pitiful expression etched on chan’s face, mirroring the ache minho feels within his own chest, or the alcohol flowing through his system that makes him truly consider the weight of the elder’s words. or maybe he’s seen enough of chan’s desperate attempts to mend the fragments of minho’s shattered heart, only to reveal more irreparable damage.

he’s right…

“just try, okay?” chan quietly pleads.

regardless, a small nod is all he manages to give in response. minho opens his eyes, tracking his friend’s movement as chan gives his shoulder two reassuring pats before walking away from the bar and disappearing into the sea of bodies.

…you’d want him to be happy.

“hey”

flinching, minho snaps his head in the direction of the feminine voice. his posture straightens, a tight lipped grimace threatening to reveal itself.

oh, right, she’s still here.

a hesitant smile graces the woman’s expression. the gentle glow of the pulsing lights caress her face with various colorful hues, the radiant shadows enhancing her black-dressed figure as she grabs her half-full drink from the countertop. taking a small sip, her eyes glaze over his tense form. a soft chuckle escapes her glossed lips as she locks her eyes with his.

minho won’t deny it; she is beautiful. and he must’ve been staring too much because her name falls on deaf ears when she attempts to introduce herself.

“...hello? you are minho, right?” the woman questions, eyebrows furrowing with slight doubt.

“uh, yeah i am, sorry,” minho answers, his sweaty hands fumbling to grab chan’s left-behind soju, ultimately choosing to shove them into his pockets instead. he can feel the awkwardness emanating off of him, filling the room with a lingering tension he doesn’t know how to escape.

the woman’s smile widens, eyes crinkling with pleasure at his reply.

well, she doesn’t seem to notice at least.

“ah, great! chan, i think that was his name, was telling me all about you. you have a really dedicated wingman.”

“yeah, he’s a good friend. i’m lucky to have him,” minho sighs, turning his body to fully face her.

“you’re a dancer, right?”

the rigidness of his stance loosens slightly at the comfortable subject. talking about himself isn’t hard; it never has been.

“mhm, i’m a dance teacher for a studio nearby,” minho replies, a faint smile playing on his lips. the flow of conversation remained focused on him: he’s been a dance teacher for three years but has danced since he was in middle school. yes, maybe he’ll audition for a company one day. yes, he has three cats named soongie, doongie, and dori.

the passage of time blends together with their laughter. the nameless woman’s drink has long been finished and replaced with a new one. chan’s soju finds its way into minho’s hand, nursing the bottle carefully as he finishes it with a final swig. the stress mounted on his shoulders has finally lifted, the buzz of alcohol brushing the pain off as they rise and fall rhythmically at her drunken attempt to finish recounting an embarrassing date.

“do you live alone?” the woman’s speech is slightly slurred, tone breathless from laughter. a lopsided grin adorns her features, as if she already knows the answer, “i forgot to ask you earlier.”

minho’s smile begins to fall. “no, i told you about my cats, remember?”

“i meant do you live with another person? a roommate? chan told me you used to live with your ex, so i was just wondering if anything had changed since then.”

the room freezes over. icy tendrils of shock and disbelief squeeze his hammering heart, his blood running cold at the woman’s words. his ex?

silence fills the tense space. the intensifying pain from his clutch on the soju bottle thrusts him back into his dreadful reality. he lets go, placing his hand flat on the counter.

minho sucks in a deep breath. “oh. what else did chan tell you?”

“wellllllll,” she drawls, a flirty smile appearing on her face. the shadows seem menacing now, their elongated forms dancing along with her slow, deliberate words, “he said you needed help getting over her.”

the woman reaches towards him, fingers closing firmly on his forearm. minho doesn’t have time to react before she lurches forward and seals her lips with his.

the kiss lasts for two seconds before she pulls away. paralyzed, minho can’t move until she attempts it again, forcefully shoving her away. tears well into his widened eyes, quickly threatening to spill onto his cheeks. the transferred lipgloss feels sticky against his mouth.

“get the fuck away from me, now.”

the woman doesn’t move, her mouth stammering as she tries to form a coherent sentence. “i-i’m sorry. i was just trying to-”

minho doesn’t wait to hear her justification, swiftly pushing away from the bar and stumbling in the direction of the exit. the rush of air as he pushes the door open makes singular tears streamline down his face. the chilled breeze burns his eyes as they dart around his surroundings lit by the sparse scattering of street lamps.

no, he really shouldn’t have listened to chan.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

minho doesn’t know how he made it home (well, actually, he does but he’d rather pretend he doesn’t than admit that chan saw his distressed state leave the nightclub and called him an uber).

the taste of the woman’s lipgloss remains on his lips, no matter how many times he tries to wipe it away. he hates how he doesn’t hate it because it tastes like you.

you, who wore the same strawberry lipgloss every time you went on a date, only for minho to kiss it all off by the end of the night.

you, who was so excited to move in with him in this small, dingy apartment until the two of you could find a better place; a home.

you, who promised you’d be right back before kissing his cheek and heading out the door.

you, whose hands he will never hold again.

you, whose spot on the bed his cats now sleep on every night.

you, who one year, four months, and six days later, still occupy his every thought.

you– a sob wracks through his body, echoing around the bedroom’s walls. the empty mattress trembles with him as he curls into himself, breath hitching with every whimper of your name, as if calling it enough times would bring you back into his arms once again—right where you belong.

no, you were never his ex. you were everything. you are everything.

your presence is everywhere in the apartment. your favorite coffee mug (that he gifted you) rests on the counter next to his. the book you swore you would finish reading one day is left bookmarked inside the drawer of the bedside table; the same place a velvet box is tucked away and hidden since he knew you’d never pick it up again (but god, he wishes you did). he had to throw away your toothbrush but your skin care products taunt him every time he retrieves his from under the sink.

his heart aches with a feeling that refuses to fade; he loved you. he loves you.

everyday becomes harder to breathe, to exist. the apartment, once filled with loud laughter, gentle whispers, and promises of love, is now a silent void. the absence of your soft footsteps, a careful dance to avoid stepping on the cats crowding around your feet, claws at minho’s heart. the sanctuary he knew he could run to and be welcomed with open arms and a warm embrace crumbled before his eyes the moment you were gone.

minho’s breaths evens out after a few minutes, each inhale pulling the familiar scent of the apartment. the tears leave damp marks on his pillow and lines on his face but its nothing he isn’t used to; a ritual, a routine he’s sadly accustomed to. it's not the first time his tears have stained the sheets, and it won’t be the last. the cruel cycle will repeat itself until one day he wakes up and doesn’t instinctively reach out for you in hopes that his reality isn’t just a hellish nightmare.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

the second worst thing to happen in minho’s life was losing you. he doesn’t know if he can keep living with the first.

────────────────────────────────────────────

liked this work? want to let me know how i did? please like, comment, and/or reblog; they are greatly appreciated my asks are always open ♡

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literaryvein-reblogs · 2 months ago

Text

4 Great Motives for Writing by George Orwell

George Orwell:

From a very early age, perhaps the age of five or six, I knew that when I grew up I should be a writer. Between the ages of about seventeen and twenty-four I tried to abandon this idea, but I did so with the consciousness that I was outraging my true nature and that sooner or later I should have to settle down and write books. Putting aside the need to earn a living, I think there are four great motives for writing, at any rate for writing prose. They exist in different degrees in every writer, and in any one writer the proportions will vary from time to time, according to the atmosphere in which he is living. They are:

(i) Sheer egoism. Desire to seem clever, to be talked about, to be remembered after death, to get your own back on grown-ups who snubbed you in childhood, etc., etc. It is humbug to pretend this is not a motive, and a strong one. Writers share this characteristic with scientists, artists, politicians, lawyers, soldiers, successful business men – in short, with the whole top crust of humanity. The great mass of human beings are not acutely selfish. After the age of about thirty they abandon individual ambition – in many cases, indeed, they almost abandon the sense of being individuals at all – and live chiefly for others, or are simply smothered under drudgery. But there is also the minority of gifted, willful people who are determined to live their own lives to the end, and writers belong in this class. Serious writers, I should say, are on the whole more vain and self-centered than journalists, though less interested in money.

(ii) Aesthetic enthusiasm. Perception of beauty in the external world, or, on the other hand, in words and their right arrangement. Pleasure in the impact of one sound on another, in the firmness of good prose or the rhythm of a good story. Desire to share an experience which one feels is valuable and ought not to be missed. The aesthetic motive is very feeble in a lot of writers, but even a pamphleteer or writer of textbooks will have pet words and phrases which appeal to him for non-utilitarian reasons; or he may feel strongly about typography, width of margins, etc. Above the level of a railway guide, no book is quite free from aesthetic considerations.

(iii) Historical impulse. Desire to see things as they are, to find out true facts and store them up for the use of posterity.

(iv) Political purpose – using the word ‘political’ in the widest possible sense. Desire to push the world in a certain direction, to alter other people’s idea of the kind of society that they should strive after. Once again, no book is genuinely free from political bias. The opinion that art should have nothing to do with politics is itself a political attitude.

It can be seen how these various impulses must war against one another, and how they must fluctuate from person to person and from time to time. By nature – taking your ‘nature’ to be the state you have attained when you are first adult – I am a person in whom the first three motives would outweigh the fourth. In a peaceful age I might have written ornate or merely descriptive books, and might have remained almost unaware of my political loyalties.

Looking back through the last page or two, I see that I have made it appear as though my motives in writing were wholly public-spirited. I don’t want to leave that as the final impression. All writers are vain, selfish, and lazy, and at the very bottom of their motives there lies a mystery. Writing a book is a horrible, exhausting struggle, like a long bout of some painful illness. One would never undertake such a thing if one were not driven on by some demon whom one can neither resist or understand. For all one knows that demon is simply the same instinct that makes a baby squall for attention. And yet it is also true that one can write nothing readable unless one constantly struggles to efface one’s own personality. Good prose is like a windowpane. I cannot say with certainty which of my motives are the strongest, but I know which of them deserve to be followed. And looking back through my work, I see that it is invariably where I lacked a political purpose that I wrote lifeless books and was betrayed into purple passages, sentences without meaning, decorative adjectives and humbug generally.

Published in Gangrel, No. 4, Summer 1946

More: George Orwell

#george orwell #on writing #writing motivation #writing inspiration #writeblr #dark academia #spilled ink #light academia #literature #essay #writers on tumblr #writing reference #poets on tumblr #writing prompt #poetry #creative writing #writing resources

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smokersbaby · 2 years ago

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Op men when their s/o asks to choke them

Characters: Law, Crocodile, Smoker (can do more on request) CW: NSFW content, chocking, creampie (no breeding kink included), rough sex (Crocodile part), size kink, minor errors. Notes: got inspired by last night with my s/o, these are my favourite three characters in OP, I hope you enjoy this! I am Italian so I'm sorry if phrases don't sound so fluent, I'm trying my best to improve my writing 💕

Trafalgar Law

You were taking him so well, his pace going faster and faster and his hips bouncing on you. His hands were holding yours over your head and his eyes were set on you, as to tell how much he wanted to bury himself inside of you. His moans were becoming loud as if he was almost there, you could also tell it by the stiffness of his muscles tensing above you. Seeing him like that was making you lose your mind, you could feel your peak coming right like his, clenching your walls against his hard cock. But you wanted more, something inside you wanted him to grab you by the neck while fucking you so well, like you were all his. At the moment it was really difficult to put words together since you were lost in pleasure, the only thing escaping from your mouth were moans. "L-Law..." you tried to say, he was watching directly at you and supposed you wanted him to stop so he lowered his pace. "No, please continue" you immediately said, in the meantime you let his hands go from the grip over your head. You grabbed gently his wrist bringing his hand over your neck. He understood in less than a second what you wanted, so he tightened his grip on your neck a little bit, just to let you know you were all his. His pace returned to be fast and powerful, your eyes watering for this kind of pleasure that made you want more and more of his thrusts. Law was feeling in control and this sensation made him lose his mind. You were so close to your climax and he could feel it too, so he closed his hand on your neck more knowing how much you liked it like this. That thing sent you over the edge, you reached your peak and so he did in the same moment, feeling your insides milking his stiff cock inside of you. He loosened his grip and kissed you softly on the lips a moment after, changing his attitude from tough to sweet in a second. He laid up hugging you waiting for you to fall asleep in his arms, needless to say, he was smiling for having discovered this new kink of yours.

Sir Crocodile

The sound of your ass hitting against his skin was filling the room, you were bouncing on him with your hips, taking all of his large cock inside of you. It was kind of unusual for such a man to lay down and watch you fuck yourself with his cock, for once you were the one in charge. You could move with ease in this position, choosing to take him deep further inside or not, teasing him. This thing was making Crocodile upset, he didn't like this kind of game. You were smirking at him, taking just the tip of his dick to see him irritating. Maybe you were playing too much with him because all of a sudden he decided to turn the tables coming on top of you. You didn't expect him to react in such a way, but somehow you wanted to feel him make you his in any way possible. He was laying on top of your back, sticking his aching cock between your thighs in your wet cunt from behind. A loud groan came from his mouth the moment he entered you, finally able to decide the rhythm of the thrusts. You were between the mattress and his body and feeling his weight all over you made you want him to choke you at that moment. You tilted your head slightly to the side since it was pounded into the mattress. You could barely see his face from that position but you didn't need to see him for asking such a thing. "Choke me," you said firmly, Crocodile wasn't waiting for more, he put his large hand on your neck squeezing it and thrusting his cock deeper in you the moment he grabbed you. You were so full of him, at that moment you thought that if this was his reaction you were going to ask him to choke you every single time. You couldn't help but smile being fucked so roughly and deep by your man.

Smoker

"F-fuck, you're so tight…" Smoker said breathing heavily above you. His large cock was stretching your insides as if it were your very first time, which it wasn't. He was so big compared to you, his muscles covered by a thin layer of sweat due to fucking you so passionately. You were under him, chest to chest and hugging him trying to grab his back with your hands but it was kinda difficult because of his size. Even though you had just begun, he was almost at his limit, maybe because of how your cunt was wrapping his cock or because he was madly in love with you. His thrusts were so deep and slow, his pace was killing you and you wanted more even though you were almost crying in pleasure. Smoker's mouth was kissing your neck making you moan, suddenly he bit it gently, and that thing made your thoughts come out of your mouth. "Please choke me…" you said whispering in his ear. He stopped for a moment, this kind of request sounded completely new to him, even though he was a really big man he was soft on the inside. Smoker looked at you in the eyes to understand if that was what you wanted, he seemed confused so you decided to help him bring his large hand over your neck. His cheeks blushed a bit seeing you smile under his soft grip. He understood you were comfortable in it so he tightened his grip a little bit making you moan and starting again to thrust his cock inside of you. "You like it like that baby?" he whispered, you didn't need to answer because your moans were speaking for you. His rhythm was getting faster and you could feel him at his limit, also the lack of air was taking you almost there. Smoker leaned down on your mouth to kiss you while still grabbing you by your neck, his tongue was craving yours and the hotness of that kiss brought you both to your climax. Your nails dug into his back while you were creaming on his cock as he did the same in you with his cum. A second after he lay on you almost squishing you into the mattress, but you loved how you could feel him so close like that. "I didn't expect you could like such a thing, but I think I may like it too," he said kissing you on your forehead.

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pedripics · 5 months ago

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PEDRI | Interview with RNE - Tablero Deportivo (june 22, 2024) - Translation

Pedro González, Pedri, very good morning. Few moments of Oasis are granted in a competition as short and as tough as this European Championship, but that's how we are on this Saturday. Qualified as first, relaxed, time to recover which is very important. When it was known that Croatia and Italy were going to be the first two opponents, I imagine that it was difficult to imagine this situation now.

"Yes, it's clear. When you have those two opponents in the group, first you think that you're going to see how it's going to happen, but the truth is that I was confident in the team we had, in how we were going to get there. I think we had played very good games before coming to this European Championship and we are showing that we have a very good level."

Pedri, you don't know, well, I'm sure you're even happier, but you don't know how we're glad to see you so well after such a complicated year.

"Yes, to be honest, I am very happy above all. I have already said that I have worked hard to get here, to be well at the end of the season and I knew that the work was being done and in the end it was going to pay off."

But was there a time when you thought, well, this summer I have a long vacation or did you knew that Luis de la Fuente was going to wait for you until the end?

"Well, the truth is that Luis has always been interested in me, he has called me, I have had conversations with him when I have had setbacks, and he has told me to be calm. And well, there was always the doubt, in case I had another relapse, in case it could happen. But well, yes, I knew that if I worked hard and was well, I knew that I had the opportunity and the confidence of the mister."

I can assure you that this season all the Barça games we've commentated, which are all of them, we've always said the same thing. We ended with the phrase, let's see if in the end Pedri arrives with the best version for the Eurocup because I don't know if you are aware of how important you are for the team's scheme and for this team in general.

"Well, I do feel like an important player, it's clear that all of us who are here are important because it's complicated to decide the list for the coach and, well, until the last moment there were three players who could have been left out and it's clear that it's complicated to come to the Spanish national team, there is a very good level of players and we are seeing that every day we are growing more and more."

I think I told you that we had the opportunity to talk in Qatar in an interview during the World Cup and I told you about it but when we landed in Doha there were some huge posters of players and the one of Spain was your picture, it was the picture of Pedri. I don't know if the profile of Pedri, of the Pedri who came to the World Cup two years ago, is a bit different from the Pedri who today, because of the circumstances, because of the complicated season you've had, has taken you out of the spotlight a bit and that's been good for you, or did you want to give a blow on the table and say, look, I'm the same?

"Yes, exactly. I've always been the same. It's true that there are a lot of people who say that I'm not the same, but it's true that I have to keep getting into a rhythm to reach my best version, which is still to come. And above all, that's what I have to do, work to get my best in the next rounds."

Well, that's what I'm happy about. Because there is one thing that I think worries us all a bit, which is that we have started so well. You know that at the end of tournaments you have to go from less to more and I don't know if you can go any more after the great game the other day against Italy.

"There are a lot of people who say that, for example, you have to lose the first game, you're going to be champion or things like that. But that's what it is. I prefer to win and be more relaxed."

It scares me a lot to go in with nine out of nine. It's like in the Champions League. You say you win everything, then you never win the title.

"Well, I think it will be good for us to get there. Nine out of nine. That's what we're going for. We'll try to beat Albania and have those nine out of nine and then face the last 16."

The thing is that the Albania match. Well, it's good. The coach is going to give others a chance. I don't know if you already know, Pedri, if he has told you and you're going to rest or not. But well, Rodri won't be here because of the cards and there are people who are a little bit injured, it's logical that there should also be minutes for everyone because this is a great group, but there's a long week left for the real match, for the match of the last sixteen…

"Yes, let's see, it's clear that we're all looking forward to the last 16, but we have to focus on Albania. They're a complicated team who have made it quite difficult for the other teams and I remember we played a match against them at Espanyol's ground and they were a complicated team who made it difficult for us. I think we scored in the last few minutes and it's clear that it's not going to be an easy game."

Look, there are headlines after the other day's match against Italy, which I'll confess is one of the best things I've seen in football, not just from Spain but in football for a long time. “The national team dances to the rhythm of Pedri and Fabian. Spain gets gold from Lamine. The flanks with Nico and Lamine destroy an Italy that didn't even show up.” Are we overdoing it? Are we getting a bit over the top?

"Yes, you've put a bit of magic into it, but well, when you win, it's normal for people to get behind you. We are seeing that a lot more people are supporting us. It's normal that at the beginning they come with more doubts, but well, we try to resolve them on the pitch and that they are with us."

Yes, that's it, that's it, the praise from the press, but for an opponent to say, as was said in the mixed zone, we knew they were better, but not that much better. I don't know if there's a bigger compliment than that.

"No, I don't think so, that the rival you played against says so is the biggest compliment you can have, because on the pitch it's a different experience. It's true that watching a game when you see one team superior to another you see it clearly, but on the pitch, to see that and say it is different."

I imagine the dressing room of the national team in the leisure time, when you're working and you're working, but it's kind of like a flea market and also when you're eliminating each other in ping pong and you're playing pool, well, hey, but there are conversations. Do you talk about this a lot? Hey Nico, you or Nacho, they tell me you're going to leave. Morata and they're throwing you the cane from I don't know where. Do you talk about this a lot?

" No, not really, there aren't many conversations about what our team is about, about the situation that each of us has. But well, sometimes if you ask him what you're going to be next year, how are you going to face it? But the truth is that there are very few conversations. Well, I don't know if the others talk about it, but I've had very few conversations about it."

So, you're not giving us any news with this, are you? Yeah, but I thought so. Hey, and another thing. You're the only national team that has the chance to be the first to win four European Championships, which is great. Are you thinking about these things when you're playing or there's that rumour that we're making good history?

"No, it's clear that we think about it, we've come to Germany to try to win the fourth. But on the pitch, you don't really think about it. You try to win that game however you can and that's it."

Hey, Manu, what a nice guy, very, very nice. The truth is that I see you more relaxed, which is something that is always cool, the season is different, the season is another thing, the selection... I think it changes your face. There are a lot of people you already know, but the atmosphere, everything feels completely different. Well, to begin with, the Federation is completely different from the coach as well, but you notice the joy that the younger players have given and you have very few, you are a kid. Has it changed the team a bit?

"Yes, of course. When young people come, they always try to joke around. When you see Nico and Lamine around, they're always joking and laughing. Fermín is next to them and well, it's different, because then you look, for example, at the other table and you see Nacho, Carvajal. People end up a bit more serious, some are laughing all day, but well, there's a bit of everything and I think there's a great group as I said. I think that's very important and you can see it on the pitch."

Listen, just like a card player, having a lot of options is good for you. For you, who is a playmaker, you look at one side, you see Lamine who is just 16 years old, you look at the other and you see Nico, that gives you life, right? This is playing with two wide-open wingers.

"Yes, it's clear. I think they're different from the wingers we're used to in Spain. They are two daggers on the flanks and well, it's much easier when you turn and see Lamine and Nico or the other ones we have. I think the others who haven't played are also at spectacular training levels and I think they can all do amazing."

Are you going to give Lamine a hand with his homework and stuff? I heard him in an interview the other day saying that he has to take time out for homework and exams and stuff like that.

"Math, I can help him, but if it's my turn in English, I don't know what I can do, hahahahahaha."

Hey, how are you doing with your German? Because I don't know if you've had time to pick up the phone and talk to the new coach. But I'm terrible at German, I have to tell you.

"I'm asking Dani Olmo about the German, but it's quite complicated. I think it's going to be easier for him to learn Spanish than for me to learn German."

If you put it in perspective, in 2021 would you have made a different decision, would you have said hey, look, I'll do this but not this? Or is the illusion of being able to play both tournaments so great that you would?

"If I would be in the same situation right now, in my first year in the elite, so to speak, Barça, Selección, I think I would have gone. I don't think I would have changed anything. Now that I have done it, because of what has happened, it happened, I got through it, I live and moved on to the next thing."

To finish this off. Do you have time to do something else? Discover the places you go to? In Italy, they have this controversy because they won't let them play the Play.

"We don't have time to go and discover the areas and things like that before the games and the free time, so to speak, we spend it playing the Play or watching the games. Now, for example, with Dani Olmo, I'm playing a tennis game on the Play and we spend a lot of time there."

Well, well, well, I like that. Well, the last one who sat in that chair (de la Fuente), the one you're sitting in right now. What a scolding he gave me when I told him that we lacked some of these stars, but what a good team we have, right? He called me a figurehead. Do you think Pedri is a star? Yes, yes, yes. Dani Olmo. You too. Yes. Can I say that or not?

"Well, of course they are. For me, the players in the national team are stars. They are all, apart from being spectacular teammates and spectacular people, they are cracks on the pitch."

Very good. So, this is as far as we've got with Pedri because time is running out. It's a pleasure to share a few minutes with you Pedri and let's see if there are still many weeks of competition ahead. A big hug. Pass it on to the team and thank you because you are making us enjoy it. Listen, it will end however it ends, but we're having a great time and that's priceless, my friend.

"De Nada. Let's hope we give the fans more joy and thank you very much."

#one of the two sweetest interviewers i have ever heard #they love him #pedri #pedri gonzalez #spain nt #*euros 2024 #*interview

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heli0s-writes · 1 year ago

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forget your perfect offering*

summary: Captain America hasn’t been home in years and it’s turned him into something a little lost, a little broken.

a/n: Hi hi!! Guess who's back on the Nomad Steve angst/smut train after 5 months??? 3k words. Please stop reading if you're not 18+ This is very Clumsy adjacent.

Captain America hasn’t been home in years and it’s turned him into something a little lost, a little broken. Going dark on the United States government when it’s put a price on your head will do that, he supposes. He’s even picked up a new habit of flinching at shadows despite maneuvering in them for eternity.

Not eternity, but he’s dramatic and full throttle. Never once learned that some things can be half-measures, can be compromised on. He’s got his handful of soldiers—friends— and he can’t forget that they’re friends because soldiers are pawns and friends are crucial.

Back then, he was just a newly reanimated statuette, a votive figurine to justice rendered flesh and bone and so damn brittle. And how could he believe it would last? The entire thing fell apart within a few years—a team scattered to pieces; an entire nation’s vision discarded on the side of the road.

A lot of Americans are angry with him for that, and most days he tries not to be angry at himself, which is stupid according to you and Sam and Nat. But being angry at propaganda and history and circumstances is too intangible to do much with, so at least being angry with himself means he can kneel into a fight, leave too little in the tank for the trip back, find a way to be punished for his transgressions.

He’d always been reckless, but it’s becoming a flag much to red to ignore.

You tell him he’s got a death wish. Plain and simple: keep it up and you’ll die, and nothing more, leaving the jet ride in silence, everyone averting their eyes. But he just wipes the blood out of his mouth and says, “Hasn’t seemed to work out for me yet.”

Back at the house—the house, not his house, or anybody’s house, certainly not a home in its unremarkable exterior, interior, living spaces cobbled together with rickety, mismatched furniture and chipped ceramic kitchenware—he returns to his book. Sinks himself into the reading nook and opens it up to a page he’s been pretending to pay attention to.

Natasha showers first, Sam crashes into his bed face-down, and you linger by the old T.V., poking at the adjacent radio.

“Hey, death boy.”

He looks up, startled. “Death boy?”

“Yeah,” you grin, glancing over your shoulder. “Death boy. Your new superhero name.”

You say it breezily, eyes half-mast because it’s been a real dog-shit kind of day and even Steve can hardly focus.

Sam’s dead to the world and Nat’s going on 30 minutes under water, so it’s a fair estimate to say that it’s to the point where he can feel how powered-down his brain is, and that if he tries to speak more than three phrases at a time, it’ll hardly make any damn sense. Or, inevitably, make matters worse.

He tries for controlled, comes out not so much. “It’s a little morbid, don’t you think?”

You gasp, scandalized. “Silly me, you haven’t been morbid at all recently. Gosh, it’s not like you were trying to get gutted—he was swinging so wide and slow, how could I think you’d manage dodging in time?” You clasp your hands over your mouth dramatically, “How could I suggest—”

“That’s enough.” Steve pinches his nose-bridge with one hand and closes the book with the other. He’s going to drown himself in the bathtub when Natasha’s finished—go drama—but he’s grinning a little bit, not dumb enough to hide when he’s been caught out.

You punch a button on the radio, tune it to a station that’s only slightly screeching with interference. There’s a discernible piano melody but he doesn’t know the song. You tap along, feeling out the rhythm, and then you cast your eyes to the reading nook he’s crushed into before pointing at the middle of the floor.

For all his miserable ruminating he always forgets to account for you at the end of the day, standing there and waiting for him like he’s got any choice. He declares all sorts of bullshit about how making the right decision can feel like no decision at all when it’s inherently justified; reason should feel like reflex, ethics an extension. But lately, the only reflex he’s felt is closer to vanishing.

He’s disappearing from view a little more each night, reduced to a crumbling idol of an endangered faith because humanity’s stopped believing in him and part of him is following the same course. He’s become an old relic chipped away in the flow of time, and some days he’d rather just be good and gone.

Keep it up and you’ll die.

Part of him already has. Part of him’s already in the ground.

“Come on,” you say with a surprising amount of patience, eyes soft and hand extended. “Are you gonna get up or am I gonna have to drag your ass again?”

The song is plunking away, cutting in and out intermittently, notes quivering on scratches of static. Nat’s started to dry her hair, the sound like a tornado alarm trapped in a bathroom but it’s persistent, fighting the wailing blow-dryer for an audience. She’s probably freezing cold because the house’s water heater is shoddy at best and Sam can fix that but he’s been exhausted lately and no one’s going to complain because they’ve never complained about their situation-- not once.

He bites down, frowns a little deeper, but then he’s on his feet, giving chase like you could take him somewhere whole and unbroken. Somewhere he’s been craving for. His hands around your waist are careful, resting his chin on top of your head as you nuzzle in.

He asks through gritted teeth, “Listening for a heartbeat?”

“I know where your heart is.”

He’s so goddamn maudlin, can’t stop the bitterness from lashing out. “Where’s that?”

“With us, death boy. With me.”

He makes a noncommittal sound, dismissive and very, very rude of him, but he’s on a roll and won’t be appeased. You lazily read the lines of his face with stunned eyes, then touch your nose to his bearded chin as you lean up.

You stroke his scalp, spinning the feathery ends of his long hair. “You want to be hurt so bad, don’t you?” Your nails rake down the length of his strong neck. “Is that what you’re used to? Is it more comfortable that way?”

“Enough,” he murmurs faintly, but makes no move to push you away, only stepping in time, rocking along. When your hand tightens into a fist to pull at him, he bites down, shuts his eyes. You do it again, harder, and then let go, letting your fingers spread at the base of his skull, cradling it like a child.

“You want to be beaten within an inch of your life, want to be pried open so you can check if you’re still capable of dying.” Cold words, but your breath is hot, and he’s starting to feel it—that telltale shiver at the base of his spine at the way you won’t break eye contact.

“I know, I know,” you coo, “it hasn’t happened yet.” You move away, smiling big and dark and glistening with promise. “But listen, Steve, all you have to do is ask.”

He can’t tell what expression he’s making, only that your pupils open to swallow him. You’re staring at him, not through him. Taking in his flesh and the warm blood cascading down his face.

The night is taking its toll, it seems. Collecting on long, hard hours, making the both of you reckless.

He thinks about months ago, and the complication of ethics in the way.

Not sleeping with teammates, not losing the fucking plot no matter how much he craved losing it for a couple of hours. There were several weeks before it went sideways, before Bucharest and the Accords, where he spent doing nothing but dedicating himself to daydreaming. He sank into the quiver of his own body as he imagined you and everything he wanted to know by touch.

There were dances, like this. Swaying back and forth in Sam’s backyard and gala celebrations, onlookers getting a few ideas about what his eyes were communicating when he’d trace the curve of your shoulders or the delicate insides of your wrists. How everyone else might follow Captain America into the jaws of death but he’d follow only you, headlong, beyond, and into the goddamn afterlife if you asked him.

But there was a line he couldn’t cross. A soft, tangerine horizon much too far out of his reach when the dark was at his back, beating him to the ground. Making him flinch from warmth because entanglement was too complicated and love was too kind.

Tony asked him what it felt like to fuck up so astronomically. Nat only clucked her tongue, more disappointment in a single sound than Steve had heard from many grand lectures.

Because you would have been vibrant and glorious, damn it. You would have giggled— giggled— when you made love, crooned his name like a songbird and touched him everywhere, all at once. You would have kissed fire back into him, licked your way into the center of that votive figurine and traced his broken heart. You would have excavated him, clawed him out clean, led him into the light.

So, he knows. He knew then, knows now, knows for the rest of his days when he’s let a beautiful thing slip through his fingers.

But sometimes, this happens and his hands feel like they’ve still held on despite his attempts. Sometimes you brush his knuckles, smile at him small and sweet and come into his makeshift room, sit on the side of his bed and exist side by side. Sometimes there wouldn’t even be conversation.

But when you linger by the door, gaze slowly raking down the length of his body and his throat, his mouth, all ten of his fingertips—god, what he wouldn’t give then, to take you to the floor and declare fuck it.

Fuck ethics and fuck his entire life, if needed, because there was only you, only what he’d been needing for ages, only that brilliant and terrifying afterlife awaiting him.

The reflex, then, is not to disappear anymore, but to kneel in.

You say, both hands come to rest around his throat— because you’ve seen him now, seen him the entire time, “If you want it that much, Steve, I can give it to you. A hundred tiny deaths, so sweet and good, until it hurts so bad you really do feel like you’re dying.”

He gulps, Adam’s apple catching each of your fingers on the way up and back down. Says, “Yeah,” before he even registers it. He blurts, going cold and hot and shell-shocked, “I’d let you do anything you want.”

Just then, the bathroom door clatters open and Natasha steps out, towel wrapped around her as she pads across the living space toward her room.

She looks from you to Steve, briefly studying the single foot of distance between your faces, the forgotten music, the way he can’t seem to keep his breathing in order.

The way you’ve got his throat in your hands.

She doesn’t even stop as she passes by, carding her fingers through her hair for a final act of detangling. “Wilson sleeps heavy,” she yawns, which implies, I don’t, so keep whatever the hell it is you two are doing down.

Then she’s gone with only pressure left in her wake. Only his breath fighting with his lungs, his belly tight and hot and his flavorless mouth so fucking starved for yours.

You raise a judgmental eyebrow after he does nothing for a beat too long, too lost in potential backpedaling to advance the plot. “That’s not asking, Steve.”

He’s stupid, dizzy, like he’s been dropped on his head, but not that stupid. He can’t keep his eyes off your mouth. Doesn’t even know if he says it, but tries anyway, “Will you please,” and the rest goes out the window. You lean in. You kiss him better than he could ever have imagined.

He’s living the teenage years he never had.

You kiss him like you’ve got all the time in the world—like it isn’t past four in the morning and the both of you are one silent minute away from slipping into unconsciousness. You kiss lazy and slow and sublime. You press a thumb at the corner of his mouth, touch inside of him, and he wants to do it back. But he wants it right.

“This,” he starts, almost whimpering when you run your teeth beneath his ear, molding your body to his, the two of you staggering into the wall and the end table and poor Natasha across the house must be digging up her earplugs. “I’m not good with—casual—”

“Yeah, you don’t think I know that?” You only pause for enough air to hassle him before taking his hands, your own so small over them, so much power over him, and place them on your waist. “You don’t think I know you’re an all-in kind of guy?”

Of course, you know. Of course, anyone who’s ever heard of Steven Grant Rogers can figure it out. It’s always going to be full throttle for him. Casual isn’t a word that exists in his dictionary, and he won’t compromise on that. He couldn’t do this any other way because now he wants to do it all—to feel you, inside out, across time and the universe and infinity.

He shucks off your clothes, doesn’t mind the grit of the day on your skin, wants it even, to know what you’re like every hour of every day. He tears off his own tac gear, can’t keep his mouth off yours for even a second as he stumbles across the floor.

When he reaches the bed, you climb on top, warm between your legs and so perfect over his thigh. He’s rocking his hips against yours, mouthing at your breasts, grabbing your ass and waist and snarling into your neck like an animal. Lazy and slow twists into frantic and desperate, him throbbing and throbbing against your skin.

He leans back, takes you down with him, bra strap limp at your elbows, panties to the side and he wedges back between the space of his thigh and your sex. He wants—wants.

“You’re warm,” he breathes.

When he pulls out, there’s a sloppy noise following your moan and he rubs his fingers together, awed at the glistening web slipping down to his palm.

One finger becomes two, the coat of slick up to his knuckles and he’s using too much tongue when he kisses you but you don’t mind that at all.

He’s not any kind of virgin but he really feels like one. In the sense that he’s turned on by everything. Too much stimulation. On his skin, in his brain, he’s immersed in one second while predicting the next, seeing the possible ways it could go. Too much pent-up desire swells up the length of his cock as he palms and presses it against the underside of your thigh for contact. His chest is heaving, breath stuttery, eyes wild and unfocused.

You grab his face, pull him away from your collar. You’re only a slight mess, but Christ, what a sight. He must be about fifty times worse because you’re grinning wide, looking him up and down as he arches forward to get you back.

You tut, “If I really wanted to kill you,” you say, “I’d leave you right now.”

“Please don’t,” he manages hoarsely, the fire in his belly lashing out.

“Because I’m so nice.”

“Yes.” And suddenly, his sunny face turns overcast, all the joyful cacophony from before muting. “Yes, you are.”

“Steve,” you sigh, rubbing your forehead with your hands for something to do with them.

He hauls himself up on his elbows, starting to feel upset.

You lean back on your palms, head lolling between your shoulder blades, aggrieved.

“Sorry,” he recants.

“Steve.”

He can’t make eye contact, but you don’t ask him to again, only touching his jaw with a finger and erasing the last few minutes with a nuzzle of your nose to his, like saying don’t worry about it, it’s okay.

Then, more kissing, more of that touch he dreamed about and he wants to kick his past self for missing it, for even daring to fantasize when the real thing is so much more.

The night melts away, each hour lasting a blink or an eternity—he can’t be bothered by it now. He figures the sun’s coming up, though, because there’s that haze of early morning past the gauzy, frayed curtain.

Your palms are on his chest, pawing at him for leverage each time you grind down, each time you swallow him back inside of you. You push, like an act of resuscitation— one, two, one, two— a rhythmic, electric, life-giving staccato beat that has him gasping for air, has him keening and groaning without any thought to how loud he might be.

And, fuck it, fuck it all. He is, admittedly, loud.

Sorry, Nat, he winces mentally before his brain’s wiped clear of all thought.

There’s nothing but you, and you, and you.

And that poor, broken heart inside of him, crushed to fine powder, being reworked into brilliance.

He lies there afterwards, gazing into the ceiling as he breathes back down to calm. There’s the thrall of exhaustion behind his eyes but it’s being overridden by a terrible, traitorous voice that’s telling him how he can’t seem to stop fucking up.

He can’t breathe suddenly, the room collapsing into a pinhole, darkness threatening the edges of his sight.

And then you say, because you always know what to say, “It’s okay to be a little broken,” you stroke his chest. “Baby, that’s how the light gets in.”

And the morning is breaking through fully now, streaks of it clearing up his eyes, cutting him to pieces beneath you.

“Yes,” he agrees and meets you for another lengthy kiss, every shrapnel inch of him raw and searing hot. All his exposed parts—the grief and agony and self-hatred—turned to gold. You touch his dark edges with your fingertips. You trace a new dawn’s light in his hair.

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers angst #steve rogers smut

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savagewildnerness · 2 months ago

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The Vampire Lestat notes...

OK, so I am taking part in a The Vampire Lestat read along on Discord (organised by @old-long-john& @inkyblotposts!)

Don’t expect me to be this in detail every week as I absolutely cannot… but I realised I went SO in detail with my notes/thoughts on my read of the first part that I can’t share it all on Discord! Hahaha! So, instead, I’ll post it here, link it there and maybe you’d like to discuss here too? Look, I don't do things by halves, OK!? So did I write nearly as many notes as there likely are words in this part of the book? Maybe... And...?!?!?!?! But this is my Tumblr and so I can post the notes in full here and what's more, I WILL!

Introduction:

I enjoy how out-of-touch with 'the youth' of the 1980's Lestat sounds and I hope that the TV show retains this in some way. Lestat, of course, would be pretty out of place in the modern era in some ways in how he speaks, particularly given that it seems the majority of the last century he's been hibernating with a plank piano and an iPad..?

Lestat says that "there was a romance" to modern music and I'm so curious if that's how he'll feel about some kind of modern music now, or, whether Lestat’s rock star career will just be 100% about Louis on the TV show?

"the way electricity could stretch a single note forever; the way harmony could be layered upon harmony until you felt yourself dissolving in the sound. So eloquent of dread it was, this music." - This reads to me like a musical description of vampirism?!

It makes me laugh when we juxtapose how Louis and Lestat describe how broken and scared of everything he is in his wilderness years in the books... yet Lestat here is like "Yeah, I was a bit scared... but in THREE DAYS I was roaring around on a motorbike...!" hahahah... I don't know whether to believe you or not, Lestat?! I also note here that it's impossible for Lestat's strength to have increased like it has here in the book on TV as he's already too strong on the show for that!

Quote I thought might be used on the show - "All people had a right to love and to luxury and to graceful things.”

Potential episode title - "Pure evil has no real place."

Surely this quote will be on tv… “It was enough to make an Old World monster go back into the earth, this stunning irrelevance to the mighty scheme of things, enough to make him lie down and weep. Or enough to make him become a rock singer, when you think about it…”

I was interested how Lestat describes how he jams with the musicians. Will The Vampire Lestat's music incorporate old French songs and brutal rhythms - eerie and disjointed music, as Lestat describes his playing?

"When I Iose my confidence, my powers drain." Found that interesting…

We'd better see Lestat standing stock still beneath a street light, whipping through IWTV at an insane speed till he exasperatedly tears it to shreds on TV!

Lestat dreams of "unprecedented rebellion, a great and horrific change to my kind all over the world." !!!

Lestat had better use the phrase "A velvet-lined motor coach" on telly! MAKE IT SO ROLIN! Please!

The ache for Louis Lestat has - for “his romantic illusions”, “his gentlemanly malice and his physical presence, the deceptively soft sound of his voice.”

There's a self-destructive excitement to how Lestat talks of being hunted and known "as no mythic monster has ever been fought by man before.”

Lestat's psychology… “How could I not love it, the mere idea of it? How could it not be worth the greatest danger, the greatest and most ghastly defeat? Even at the moment of destruction, I would be alive as I have never been.”

Lelio Rising.

So first of all… I noted the timeline as I went this time:

Lestat kills the wolves aged 20 (he specifically states that he is 20 on p38 if you have the new UK paperback version of the book… “The Winter of my 21st year” - your first year you are aged 0… when you turn 1 that is your second year. So Lestat’s 21st year is from the day he turns 20 until the day before he turns 21.

As far as I can tell, all of Lelio Rising takes place when Lestat is 20 (apart from the flashbacks when he is younger.) Lestat meets Nicolas and they begin their conversation as Winter turns to Spring in the year he is 20…. He first performs as Lelio in late-August of the year he is 20… and he talks of seeing Magnus in October of that year… soon after which, he is made a vampire. Thus, I think Lestat will have been made a vampire weeks/days before he turns 21. I’d personally like to imagine it happens on Halloween.

Regarding Lestat’s family… Gabrielle has 8 children. The oldest boy is Augustin… there is one girl, but we don’t even know where she came in the birth order. Lestat is the youngest boy. Only one more boy survives… a boy whom for whatever reason, Lestat doesn’t mention by name even once!!?!

How Lestat self-describes: The dreamer, the angry one, the complainer, the hunter, unhappy, ferocious, a wild creature, bitter (haha, I typed BUTTER first!)

OK… on to the chapter!

The book starts describing the Winter and I was struck by how later in the chronicles, Lestat will often dream of this snow and how this bitter Winter is the opposite of death for a vampire - who die in fire or The Sun…

“In the winter of my twenty-first year, I went out alone on horseback to kill a pack of wolves.” Wouldn’t that have been magnificent as the actual first line of the novel?! Just saying…! I mean, it kind of *is* the first line! I wonder if Anne wrote the introduction first, or this?

Lestat being brought back with his wings broken made me see Nicolas’ mind-bird in my mind.

“White-wigged Parisians in high-heeled satin slippers” was so redolent of Louis and Lestat at the Mardis Gras ball in S1 to me.

“Though I speak of them as dogs now, they were known only by their names to me then.” What a beautiful, sideways way of expressing what the dogs meant to Lestat.

I love how hunter-Lestat is described almost like a beast himself and it makes me so excited to see this on screen. I also love the way he understands the wolves’ strategy - thinking like the wolves think. We’re gonna see a FLAIL, folks!

Lestat’s horse’s death is the first truly gothic description…. It always makes me wonder too whether that Lestat found it in himself to kill his horse in mercy for her suffering isn’t as much a reason for Magnus to pay attention to him as the fact that he killed the wolves? Also I’ve begun to notice Anne Rice loves to compare things to insects…

When Augustin says Lestat didn’t kill the wolves, then retracts it & Lestat says the next thing he knew he was lying alone in his room… I mean… it can be read at face value, but I also wonder - is there something that happened here that Lestat doesn’t write? And if so, might the TV show go there?

Breaking the bullet points up as tumblr won't let me post...

I noticed a lot of what Lestat will later seek in his relationships and how he is in relationships in his relationship with Gabrielle. Gabrielle is not a touching-person, but the moments she allows a tiny bit of conversation… it leans into me thinking of Lestat and Nicolas’ conversation… the way she gives him gifts and *things* when he struggles… it creates Lestat the gift-giver, it seems to me…? This is how he is shown love and so this is how he learns to give love. The way withdraws surely creates Lestat’s sense of being “too much” as much as his Father and brother telling him his is ‘wrong’ does?

“I wanted to be enclosed forever with people who believed I could be good if I wanted to be.” - I wonder if the TV show will go down the route of Lestat’s quest for goodness? I hope so! At this time, I think 12-year-old Lestat found goodness in the order of the monastery versus the chaos he felt in the family castle (haha, the family castle!) And I also feel like he felt goodness in being made “ordered” rather than “chaotic” himself. However, I don’t think Lestat would have been happy in the end in so restrictive a place, much as I am sure he would have loved learning.

Gabrielle buys Lestat his first mastiff puppies, a good horse and a rifle when he is 12. She creates Lestat-the-hunter. She later will say she feels Lestat is the man in her, the man she cannot be in this era. And she literally chooses what Lestat will be. She doesn’t teach him to read, even though she knows his curiosity to learn, even from the way he talks. No, she decides the boy will become a hunter and so Lestat does. Becoming a hunter is also something that will bond him more tightly to his home. It’s not something that’s ever going to lead to a route to escape for him. Teaching Lestat to read might have led to Lestat fleeing for Paris far sooner…. I don’t know. Gabrielle will later say she kept Lestat prisoner as surely as his Father and brothers and I really felt that on this re-read…. Even when Lestat runs away with the theatre at 16 and so Gabrielle truly then knows how Lestat wants to escape… what does she buy him? A fancier rifle. A thing to keep him more tightly where he is, hunting here for the family. She begins to talk to Lestat in conversation. But it’s like she’s placating on both sides - so Lestat will stop getting beaten (to keep him here) and so he’ll have just-enough mental stimulation to keep him where he is too: here with her…? I understand it from her perspective. Imagine how alone she’d be otherwise. But it’s interesting to me.

“The silent ebb and flow of life felt deadly to me.” - surely Lestat will say this on TV?

I got annoyed thinking about Lestat playing Harlequin as I read the Commedia Dell’ Arte talking about how an actor plays a single role for life… although… metaphorically, could we say Lestat truly *is* kind of playing Lelio for life once he is immortal?!

After Lestat returns from the theatre, this is when he really begins to despair and to believe he will never be free. I was struck by how he says he becomes more useful in this time. Isn’t it often the way - with no hope for his own future, he sinks into the role of provider and caregiver and the only way he can ‘be good’…. It also makes me think how in the future, when in despair, Lestat will rush to *do* some mad scheme or other.

Hahaha at Lestat valuing his Mother’s physical beauty as having inherent value, the vain little irritant!

I did wonder, when Lestat tells Gabrielle how he dreams of killing his family… given how they have made all the characters worse on the show, I really HOPE they don’t make Lestat LITERALLY kill his family. It crossed my mind that they *could*… PLEASE DO NOT. I don’t think they will as it counters the ensuing conversation, but I had a sudden flash of FEAR!

This conversation though, Gabrielle takes Lestat seriously. She always takes Lestat seriously, which I love her for. Much as I believe Gabrielle doesn’t love Lestat enough… I think it’s probably pretty rare and a very special thing for a parent to take the thoughts of their child and who they are so seriously and not to dismiss them?

Gabrielle seems to love Lestat more now he’s 20 as she can see him as a man rather than as her son. She likes to talk to him as if he were not her son. She hates to be called Mother. She seems to love to feel him as a comrade. And I will say here that if I feel Lestat isn’t loved enough by Gabrielle… his brothers… she literally despises them. I know they seem awful, but imagine not receiving even one iota of love in your entire life from your mother, which must be their experience.

“You don’t have to take upon yourself the burden of murder or madness to be free of this place. Surely there must be other ways.” - This is the spark that makes Lestat first believe he might not have to be obedient in order to be “good”.

I love Gabrielle’s quote “I am purely myself. I belong to no one.”

I love too that even in this introduction we get Lestat the hunter, the killer juxtaposed with Lestat the aesthete and Lestat the thinker, feeler and (he wishes!) learner…

Little break, because my favourite time is now starting - it’s Nicolas time!

Lestat describes Nicolas (at different times) as: a vision, witty, dismissive, sneering, excited, sarcastic, intelligent, melancholy, cynical, bitter, full of energy, passionate, handsome, ironical, sad, scornful, mocking, miserable, weary, dejected.

Will Nicolas say “I too am impossible, Monsieur. Only the impossible can do the impossible.” Surely he will, and surely “Only the impossible can do the impossible” will be the title of the episode where Lestat kills the wolves?

Lovely foreshadowing that Gabrielle says Nicolas was inspired to play violin by watching a virtuoso so impressive people said he sold his soul to the devil and then suggests that maybe Nicki can do the same. “I laughed a little uneasily. It sounded tragic.” Oh Lestat, you have NO IDEA!!!!!

Will Mozart be in S3? I HOPE SO (& think so!!?!). And Marie Antoinette, too! Surely!

Obviously we’ll hear Nicki’s Father was threatening to break his hands for the foreshadowing too!

“I think I loved him already, doing what he wanted like that.” A few pages later… “I think I loved him.” Lestat falls hard and fast, like love at first sight.

I just want to add here that it’s an absolutely ridiculous concept that Nicolas STARTS playing the violin aged 20 and immediately is able to be as good as he gets! He might feel he can never be good enough… but he must be literally a genius if he’s become even that good at the violin when he’d never even picked one up a year ago! How do you think playing an instrument works, Anne?!?!?!?! You just pick it up and instantly - BAM you not only can just do it, but you’re great! If only! And Mozart is willing to take on a complete beginner as a pupil, too?!

In Lestat and Nicolas’ first conversation, it feels to me as though Lestat is infecting Nicolas with his light and optimism and it really made me understand how much Nicolas truly did need Lestat - like he is Nicolas’ hope. Until…. (We’ll return here later in the book!)

I wonder how the fact that Lestat is born in The Enlightenment - a new age of Reason will impact how he is portrayed on the show? Obviously we’ve seen already how it’ll affect Armand!

When Nicolas brings up The Witches’ Place, Lestat doesn’t immediately remember - as if he has repressed the memory as it is traumatic. I need The Witches Place on TV, but I can’t imagine how we can get to it? Nicolas would have either not yet been born or have been a baby when this happened, so he cannot remind Lestat; Gabrielle would absolutely never bring up such a story in retrospect… and Lestat has repressed the memory… so how can we now get to The Witches’ Place? Also, I find it interesting that Lestat says Nicki studies him as they talk about this… to ascertain how Lestat feels about it now?

I spoke of Lestat’s love for Nicolas, but when Nicolas is saying “Ah, you are a dreamer! My lord, the wolfkiller.” It feels Nicolas loves Lestat as well. And of course, Nicolas also says “I love you” to Lestat, in Paris. I love how, in this first conversation they both discover what it is to be truly known by another being - in how they share their lives and their longings and their dissatisfactions and they truly listen to and empathise with each other. It definitely feels like (beyond his Mother, who really was more sporadic in her attention), this is Lestat’s first experience of truly being seen by another being.

“I think I was happier than I had ever been in my life.” Lestat is so joyous here. When he hears Nicolas play for the first time, he kisses Nicolas on both cheeks and then the violin! You can just imagine the infectious joy! And it’s such a contrast to how Lestat is afraid to touch his Mother

Lestat then (of course!) promptly cries! (Is Sam’s Lestat going to burst into tears as often as Lestat describes it, because get him ten thousand gallons of water to drink - he’ll need them!!!! Lestat also cries at the most random moments… but we know Sam is up to the task!) Nicolas seems deeply moved too that his music had this effect. Perhaps Nicolas initially expected to find a kindred spirit in ferocity and rebellion in Lestat? And he did! But he found a match in sensitivity too.

As conversations go on, Lestat and Nicolas find their differences with opposing worldviews and interestingly they often clash about the goodness inherent in art… and yet they then come together in art (for example as Nicki plays violin and Lestat dances…)

The idea to go to Paris actually comes from Nicolas - he is the instigator. And it feels like they are both, at this point trying to escape the meaninglessness of life.

Lestat’s “Oh, oh, oh!” crisis moment really reminds me of… *warning - slight spoiler for first time readers* what Lestat will later see in Nicolas’ mind… and it gives a different vibe to things to know that Nicolas is Lestat’s comforter in this moment and tries to relieve Lestat’s pain, but basically this is Nicolas’ mind 100% of the time.

“It was not better in the morning.” In fact this existential crisis, his malady of mortality becomes Lestat’s eternal yearning ache of questioning than can never be fully assuaged (maybe on the TV show, the answer will be - Louis’ love.) It never goes away, and any time someone describes Lestat as just FUN, I think back to this - because at the core of Lestat (and as I see it, at the core of The Vampire Chronicles) is this terror that existence is meaningless and that no life has any meaning at all. That there are no answers we’ll ever receive, not even when we die. That there will be no retribution or reward or even knowledge in any way. That all there is is existence and non-existence. This will obviously only be heightened once Lestat becomes a vampire, so must take life in order to survive and force countless souls into non-existence…. In in fact, Lestat’s focus on death and chaos has this nihilistic hint to it which is so the opposite to how Lestat is generally perceived.. and, admittedly how he tries to come across, too! Lestat says he doesn’t believe in presentiments, but narratively this all is a presentiment and literally it is to be Lestat’s eternal malady of immortality as well.

I had some very personal thoughts at this point, when Lestat goes about questioning everyone… which perhaps I won’t share…. Well just to say that sometimes when something big happens in your life, you literally see the world in a different way. I am thinking on a time when all of a sudden I began to look at people & it felt like I could *see* the weariness of their souls and internal fragilities, just looking at strangers’ faces and it was really unnerving and overwhelming, especially going about in crowds…

“Drew me as strongly as it scared me.” Isn’t this always the way? I hope the writers always have this quote in mind throughout the entire show’s creation!

It’s interesting that before Lestat heads to Paris he is now toning down how much he tells Gabrielle and instead it is Nicki he will fully open up with.

I love the part where Lestat hugs Gabrielle and she gives herself over to him and he witnesses her cry for the first time and loves it. I had a very similar experience with my Dad once when I was a child, heading into being a teen and I can still conjure the scene and how it felt… and I felt similarly about it too…

At the end of chapter 6 it seems Gabrielle is saying she’s always lived vicariously through Lestat & now in sending him away as she’s dong, she hopes to continue to live vicariously through him still in some way as she approaches what she thinks will be her death? Reading this time gave me big Magnus vibes in how he perceives Lestat too… weird! Like somehow, both seem to desire to live vicariously through Lestat? Could we even say it of Nicolas too, in a way? He needs Lestat, to feed on his capacity for joy… hmm… I don’t know… I’m thinking as I type…

I love the feeling of freedom and optimism when Lestat and Nicolas first arrive in Paris - the true start of living life!

And yet, Lestat still talks of his trembling, terrifying existential dread that settles upon him every night and which Nicolas tries to encourage him to let go.

Vampires have preternatural ability to mimic, but as described, Lestat already learned in this way it seems, in the theatre. I love how he describes his fear evaporating and how he loved being on stage. I love his determination and how convinced he is he will be a great actor. I love how Lestat and Nicolas are described here and there’s a tantalising feeling of how their future might be…

The Autumn arrives with it’s personification of Dread.

Malady of mortality surely has to be an episode title?

When Lestat wraps he and Nicki together in his cloak against the show and rain, it feels simultaneously real and metaphorically poignant.

Lestat genuinely thinks if he could just get Nicki to understand the truth Lestat feels certain of (goodness in art and making others happy through your art), all would be well, but Nicolas still believes goodness can only come from obedience and self-sacrifice and denial and, thus, he knows himself to be evil.

“Light and beauty come together in you in a thousand different patterns” is such a beautiful thing Lestat says to Nicolas.

Nicki’s final words to mortal Lestat are a soft “Let’s go to bed.” (Do you think show-Lestat will be ripped out of post-coital Nicolas’ arms..?)

Finally: Questions:

At the start of TVL, Lestat has been In The Earth. Do you think he will have been In The Earth in this era on the TV show? (As Louis has seen him pretty recently, which makes it seem like perhaps he won’t have been?)

The ‘spirit’ of 1984 reminds Lestat of the 1700’s. Will there be anything about the 2020’s that Lestat will associate with/that will remind him of the late eighteenth century?

“I did a lot of thinking about this sinless, secular morality, this optimism” - will this be a driving force for modern day Lestat? What will he think about in relation to right now?

What music will Lestat listen to? He listens to a lot of Bach when he first rises in the book (while driving his Harley-Davidson. Is there a security both in the structure of Bach and in the fact his music is from an era predating even mortal Lestat that makes Lestat feel safer entering the modern era?

Lestat talks about coming back after killing the wolves and feeling that he was ‘not-Lestat’, so I thought we could discuss - did killing the wolves change Lestat, and if so: how?

When Lestat goes into a depression post-killing-the-wolves, is this essentially a human version of “Going into The Earth” as Lestat will do numerous times as a vampire?

How will the French Revolution impact the TV telling?

When Lestat talks of how he could have poisoned meat to kill the wolves, but meat was too scarce… is he in a veiled way saying that his life has less value than a piece of meat?

“I don’t think I felt the slightest fear then. But I felt something, and it caused the hair to rise up on the back of my arms.” What exactly is the “something” Lestat feels when he sets out to kill the wolves? And why is he not afraid? Bravery? His hunting spirit? His impulsive, adventurous nature? Stupidity? Naivety? Only feeling truly alive in moments that contain the potential for death? A lack of care whether he lives or dies (borne of despair}?

Reading the wolves section, with the dying animals and even after this too when Lestat talks of his ignored/thwarted farming plans for his family’s land… It made me wonder, just a curious ponder - if Sam might have had any experiences in real life connected to any of this stuff, given his family’s line of work…?

Is performing with the theatre troupe at 16 the first time Lestat truly feels pure joy - he describes it as ecstasy?

How can we now get to The Witches’ Place if Nicki can’t have witnessed child-Lestat there, Gabrielle would never tell the story and Lestat has repressed the memory…?

#interview with the vampire #anne rice #amc interview with the vampire #lestat de lioncourt #the vampire lestat #amc iwtv #iwtv amc #iwtv lestat #iwtv louis #louis de pointe du lac #gabrielle de lioncourt #wolfkiller #lelio #lelio rising #malady of mortality #lestatcore

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kemetic-dreams · 1 year ago

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Minnie Julia Riperton Rudolph (November 8, 1947 – July 12, 1979) was an American singer-songwriter best known for her 1975 single "Lovin' You" and her four octave D3 to F♯7 coloratura soprano range. She is also widely known for her use of the whistle register and has been referred to by the media as the "Queen of the Whistle Register."

Minnie Riperton grew up in Chicago's Bronzeville neighborhood on the South Side. As a child, she studied music, drama and dance at Chicago's Lincoln Center. The youngest of eight children in a musical family, she embraced the arts early. Although she began with ballet and modern dance, her parents recognized her vocal and musical abilities and encouraged her to pursue music and voice. At Chicago's Abraham Lincoln Center, she received operatic vocal training from Marion Jeffery. She practiced breathing and phrasing, with particular emphasis on diction. Jeffery also trained Riperton to use her full range. While studying under Jeffery, she sang operettas and show tunes, in preparation for a career in opera. Jeffery was so convinced of her pupil's abilities that she strongly pushed her to further study the classics at Chicago's Junior Lyric Opera.

The young Riperton was, however, becoming interested in soul, rhythm and blues, and rock. In her teen years, she sang lead vocals for the Chicago-based girl group the Gems. Eventually the group became a session group known as Studio Three and it was during this period that they provided the backing vocals on the classic 1965 Fontella Bass hit "Rescue Me".

After graduating from Hyde Park High School (now Hyde Park Academy High School), she enrolled at Loop College and became a member of Zeta Phi Beta sorority. She dropped out of college to pursue her music career.

Her early affiliation with the legendary Chicago-based Chess Records afforded her the opportunity to sing backup for various established artists such as Etta James, Fontella Bass, Ramsey Lewis, Bo Diddley, Chuck Berry and Muddy Waters. While at Chess, Riperton also sang lead for the experimental rock/soul group Rotary Connection, from 1967 to 1971.

On April 5, 1975, Riperton reached the apex of her career with her No. 1 single "Lovin' You". The single was the last release from her 1974 gold album titled Perfect Angel. Riperton's third album, Adventures in Paradise was released in 1975. Despite the R&B hit "Inside My Love", some radio stations refused to play "Inside My Love" due to the lyrics.

Her fourth album for Epic Records, titled Stay in Love (1977), featured another collaboration with Stevie Wonder in the funky disco tune "Stick Together".

In 1978, Richard Rudolph and Riperton's attorney Mike Rosenfeld orchestrated a move to Capitol Records for Riperton and her CBS Records catalog. In April 1979, Riperton released her fifth and final album, Minnie. "Memory Lane" was a hit from the album.

Riperton provided backing vocals on Stevie Wonder's songs "Creepin'" from 1974's Fulfillingness' First Finale and "Ordinary Pain" from 1976's Songs in the Key of Life. In 1977, she lent her vocal abilities to a track named "Yesterday and Karma", on Osamu Kitajima's album, Osamu.

In January 1976, Riperton was diagnosed with breast cancer and, in April, she underwent a radical mastectomy. By the time of diagnosis, the cancer had metastasized and she was given about six months to live. Despite the grim prognosis, she continued recording and touring. She was one of the first celebrities to go public with her breast cancer diagnosis but did not disclose she was terminally ill.

In 1977, she became a spokesperson for the American Cancer Society. In 1978, she received the American Cancer Society's Courage Award, which was presented to her at the White House by President Jimmy Carter.

Riperton died of cancer on July 12, 1979 at the age 31.

During the 1990s, Riperton's music was sampled by many rap and hip-hop artists, including Tupac Shakur, Dr. Dre, A Tribe Called Quest, Blumentopf, The Orb

#african #afrakan #kemetic dreams #africans #afrakans #brown skin #brownskin #african culture #afrakan spirituality #riperton #tupac shakur #dr dre #a tribe called quest #the orb #minnie julia riperton #Minnie Julia Riperton Rudolph

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punderdome · 3 months ago

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The Fine Print: Chapter 10

Summary: Tav tests an Archduke to find a nullification clause for her contract. Raphael begins his assault on Avernus.

[AO3]

Rating: 18+

Chapter 10: The Nullification Clause

With the Regalia of Karsus completed, Raphael had started his assault on Avernus in earnest. In the evenings, he would regale her of the successes of his armies and the territory that he conquered, telling glamorous tales of how soon in the future he would take his armies to descend upon Zariel’s basalt citadel.

Tav listened aptly to Raphael describing the clashes of his army against Zariel’s amongst the background of the lingering Blood War. Her husband was proud, having utilized the Regalia’s power to his advantage many times. He took to wearing the Crown of Karsus significantly more often in the House of Hope in blatant displays of his power.

Tav was left safely at home to learn and study. She found a comfortable rhythm between studying in the archive, bathing in the Boudoir, and sharing her husband’s bed whenever he sought relief from his work, which was most evenings when he was home. Raphael had started missing dinner more often but took heartedly to Lanceboard matches and reading together. He would hum affectionately as Tav studied her extra readings while curled up on his chest in his bed, correcting her language as needed. His corrective comments were became rarer and rarer as they read together, before the Archdevil of Avernus would decide reading time was over and expect pleasure from his wife.

Atmos had rapidly become Tav’s favorite teacher. For the past ten tendays, he had been instructing her on Infernal law and legal writing. Her Devilish and Ancient Infernal were rapidly improving, enough so that Atmos had allowed her to write, though she was still limited to documenting vocabulary to study and not allowed full sentences yet, though Tav was confident she would be able to link words into phrases within a tenday.

Atmos had spent the morning on long, detailed discussions on how to determine whether an Infernal contract was valid. Tav had been reading on precedents that were so sloppily written and nebulous to have been investigated by an Infernal court.

“What are the requirements for the dissolution of an existing contract?” Atmos challenged her.

“The existence of a superseding agreement or ineligibility of the contract due to default or the contract being taken under duress or coercion,” Tav answered easily, not needing to seek the reference text.

“And what of a Warlock pact? What would make that ineligible?” Atmos sat back in his chair across from her. He gently pushed his spectacles up his nose.

“A celestial agreement or divine clerical pact makes a mortal ineligible for an Infernal Warlock pact unless the mortal has been substantially corrupted in soul on at least three occasions each more than one day apart by duration defined by time on Prime Material,” Tav started, knowing she was missing a specific subset of Warlock ineligibilities and trying to remember what the last one was.

“And?” Atmos started again.

“And an existing agreement of any contractual type with any other agent of the Hells from Imps to Archdevils,” Tav finished quickly.

Atmos grinned. “You have been spending quite a bit of time studying and ruminating on contractual invalidity,” the Infernal tutor mused.

“Since we had been studying contractual validity, it made sense to have been studying invalidity,” Tav insisted. Atmos grinned at her. “One cannot understand invalidity or validity without understanding the other - otherwise, it is like expecting Shar to exist without Selune.” A devilish eyebrow was cocked at her analogy.

Tav quickly realized her celestial reference but figured it would be more embarrassing to bring it up any further. The Infernal master chuckled. “I can only expect that eventually you’ll be using more Hellish analogies instead of those commonly used by mortals.”

“I can be well read on any plane, Master Malrai.” Tav had learned the appropriate level of levity to use with her tutor.

“Indeed you can, Lady Tavara.”

***

Raphael was not at dinner that evening after she finished her lessons. Tav summoned the valet.

“Is Master Raphael in the House this evening?” she asked quickly.

“Not to my knowledge, my Lady,” the servant answered quickly. Tav quickly finished her dinner before returning to her room. She had stashed a stack of parchment with preliminary notes, and took them with her tucked under her arm as she hurried down the hall, not wanting to be seen.

Under her arm she carried a dangerous set of notes with some hypotheses to help end her marriage contract. If she searched thoroughly enough, she was confident she could find a way to nullify their contract.

Tav entered Raphael’s study to search through his extensive law library. He was absent, likely out on Prime Material conducting business or managing the assault on Avernus. Tav went to the bookshelves containing large tomes of Faerunian law. Most of the old tomes were in Common tongue, but a few had translations into Infernal. The collection of Faerunian law was not nearly as extensive as Raphael’s collection of the Laws of the Hells.

A contract may be wholly or partly invalid if there is a binding agreement superseding relevant contractual clauses.

She removed the index tome and sat at Raphael’s desk to figure out which of the works would hold the information she was looking for.

Marriage Agreements. Book XII.

Tav replaced the index and pulled out the volume that referenced Faerunian marriage laws.

There were sections upon sections noting the validity and binding of various races and regions with separate sections for the gods of the Faerunian pantheon with additional information posed for the Fae, dead gods, and other supernatural forces that weren’t previously described. Where did Infernal assholes fall?

Tav searched for the section on the Sword Coast and what constituted a binding marriage agreement for each of the various gods.

There were sections depicting valid marriage ceremonies, usually involving a binding promise, temple, and cleric. Druids had other options to make binding ties under Silvanus. The Drow had non-marriage binding options for subservient Drow males under the matriarchy. Each god had their own set of minor differences in the components required to make a marriage binding. Page after page dictated various ceremonies and contract types.

When Astarion was a magistrate, did he really memorize all of these law tomes?

Tav found the section she was looking for, assuming that at the time, Gale would still fall under Mystra’s domain. “A betrothal is considered a fully valid marriage for Mystra’s followers before a ceremony is held, provided the betrothal is consummated,” Tav read aloud.

This could be the way out. Raphael couldn’t marry her if she was still married to another.

Gale had proposed marriage, and she had accepted. They made love again that night as newly betrothed. Bound in promise. Consummated.

Tav searched through the laws for Mystra’s followers to find the laws and regulations concerning divorce or dissolution of a consummated betrothal. Pre-ceremony, betrothals can be dissolved without additional requirements provided one of the parties wishes to end the agreement. So, she wasn’t still married to Gale, but she was considered to be married to him in Faerun when she met Raphael in the Devil’s Den to sign the contract.

She absolutely could not ask for Atmos’s opinion on her argument. He would definitely tell Raphael. It was a solid start for her to draft an Infernal legal argument that nullified that part of their contract.

What exactly did Raphael know? He clearly knew of the proposal, and that it was consummated, if not that night then every night until they had broken up their relationship.

Tav ran her hands over her cheeks, thinking back to when she signed the contract. She was, by Faerunian law, married to Gale at the time. She was infected by a Mindflayer tadpole. She was fighting an Elderbrain.

Duress. A contract could not be made under duress. Would being infected with a mind flayer tadpole while being spied on constantly by a mind flayer count? Would signing the contract under the watchful eye of an extremely impatient Githyanki matter?

Tav took detailed notes on nullification of marriage contracts due to intoxication or coercion. If the coercion nullification also existed in Infernal law, she may be able to make a reasonable argument. The days before she signed the contract, Lae’zel had been insistent she go to the Devil’s Den to sign. Her Githyanki friend had asked or pleaded almost constantly that they go to sign, despite how many times Gale had spat at her to stop asking.

What was Raphael thinking about when he drafted her contract?

Tav knew that if she wanted the basis for a good counter argument, she would need to ask him herself.

***

Raphael returned the following evening, joining her for dinner after her lessons had completed. Tav smiled at him, seeing him seated in the dining hall waiting for her.

“You’ve returned, husband,” she said with a smile. She kissed him gently, and he grinned.

“So you’ve been waiting for me?” Raphael purred.

“I wasn’t sure you would be home tonight.” She took her place at Raphael’s side as they dined together.

“Were you managing the conquest of Avernus or on Prime Material?” Tav probed, trying to assess exactly what mood he was in.

“I was conducting additional deals in Faerun. I have quite a valuable haul of souls soon to be delivered. I made a deal with a prominent warlord to gift him a sword of great power.” Raphael’s smile was smug as he refilled their wine glasses.

“Wouldn’t that only provide you one soul to be delivered after his lifespan is spent?” Tav inquired, slowly sipping from her goblet.

Raphael chuckled at her. “Definitely not, my dearest, I take great care in my contracts in considering the entire context of the situation. When I make a deal with a mortal, I pay close attention. As they say, the devil is in the details.” He leaned back in his chair and puffed out his chest with knowing pride. “See, the blade I provided will automatically apply a soul brand that grants their soul to me upon death. Every being he cuts down enriches me further.”

“And what if your warlord is slain?” Tav asked, waiting to hear the rest of the story.

“The sword retains its power after his death and he is returned to me. Such a valuable and powerful sword will definitely be used again to slay more unsuspecting mortals.” Raphael grinned. “From your time as an adventurer, I’m sure you have used items taken from your slain foes. A quarterstaff taken from the former Archmage of Ramazith’s tower, perhaps?”

Tav sighed and nodded in understanding. “I did like that staff and my old robes,” she mused.

Raphael gave a hearty laugh before running the back of his hand over her cheek. “Do not fear, my dearest, they are safely within one of my vaults. I collected them for you when I picked you up on our wedding night.”

Tav smiled at the oddly kind gesture. “Thank you.” She leaned briefly into Raphael’s touch. “Now, that can’t be the ending of the story with the warlord.”

“Correct you are, my dear. See, the warlord is also being hunted by an expensive group of mercenaries that I, too, equipped with enchanted swords that apply soul brands. Now, the dead from both sides will be delivered to me, and all I need to do is observe the bloodbath.”

Tav smirked. “Those must be expensive, so I’m sure you’re anticipating a large return, or I can imagine every devil would use them.”

“Not every devil has the Regalia of Karsus. I can create such enchantments as I please.”

Tav could darkly imagine entire Infernal forges dedicated to weapons that would soul brand slain foes. Entire armies cutting each other down only for all of them to be doomed to eternity in Raphael’s clutches. His confidence in gaining power was beginning to crystallize for her.

Raphael invited her back to his bedchamber for the evening. At his bedroom door, Tav excused herself quietly.

“Let me change into my nightclothes,” she protested falsely, waiting for Raphael to produce a counterargument.

“They are unnecessary,” Raphael argued back with a smirk, his hand reached up to grasp her chin.

Tav backed away from him with a greedy smile. “Oh dear, husband, but they are.” Raphael growled in response.

Tav returned to her room and quickly changed into a silk nightdress. She laid down on her bed and started to stroke her clit until she could feel the heat and pooling wetness. She grabbed one of her law tomes from the table at the window. She clutched it tightly to her before returning to Raphael’s chambers. He was waiting for her on the settee, dressed down into his silk robe and lounging pants. He eyed the tome in her grasp in confusion.

“What are you up to, my dearest?” he asked quickly.

“I’m a very naughty student, dear husband. I must finish my reading before I upset my tutor,” she answered in a voice that she tried to steep in bashfulness with just a hint of flirtation. Raphael raised an eyebrow and grinned, taking the bait.

He motioned to his lap, and Tav sat down, curling herself around him. She opened the tome to the section on contract validity, reading silently to herself as Raphael placed a hand around her waist.

“Malrai had told me you were in the midst of studying contract law validity. I am glad you are such an eager student,” he chuckled to himself, his baritone laugh exuding pride.

Tav booped him playfully on the nose and responded with mock exasperation. “I am very fortunate to be in the presence of such talented Infernal contract writers such as Master Malrai and yourself, but I do not wish to disappoint my tutor or my husband.” Tav could feel the egotistical hitch in Raphael’s breath at her flattery.

She silently and patiently continued to read. Raphael would break soon, and then it was time.

Raphael was a patient devil, but he had his limits in the bedroom. He quickly started to kiss down the back of her neck and fondled her breasts through her nightdress. Tav gently removed his hand and went back to the page. She had already completed this reading and knew it by heart, but Raphael didn’t need to know that.

Raphael growled deeply, but Tav continued to read. He resumed his assault of kisses on her neck before lapsing into gently sucking and biting. Tav turned gently booped his nose a second time. His eyes narrowed, but he paused.

Tav turned the page. Raphael’s fingers were impatiently tapping on her waist. She could feel his breath on her ear.

Without another word, Raphael slammed the book shut and snapped it away to her room. “I think that’s enough for tonight.” His hands immediately went to the laces on her nightdress, pulling the straps down over her shoulders to free her breasts.

“Raphael, I have more work to complete.”

“No, my dearest, you’re done for the night,” he whispered into her ear as he stroked each of her nipples, excited by the way they hardened instantly under his touch. He kissed and gently bit at her neck as he fondled her. One of his hands traced up between her thighs.

“You have been a naughty, naughty Little Mouse,” Raphael groaned, already breathless as he stroked the wetness. He pressed a finger deep into her and relished in the gasp that followed. As he moved his fingers in and out of her, Tav couldn’t stifle the moans that fell from her lips. She wanted to writhe into his hands. She had to maintain control.

Tav removed his fingers with a slight whine and climbed out of his lap. Raphael was already hard. Tav walked over to the bed, and Raphael wasted no time in following her. She removed his robe and his lounging pants, leaving him bare in front of her. She stroked his wings as he let the last of her nightdress fall to the floor. His hands went to scoop her up to place her on the bed, but Tav stopped him.

“Lay down,” she whispered in his ear, and every part of him, including his cock, seemed to stiffen. Raphael preferred to be on top or fucking into her from behind. He never let her ride him.

“Mouse-” Raphael started to protest.

“I’m a naughty, naughty Little Mouse,” Tav reminded him. Raphael’s jaw tensed. “I didn’t even finish the reading my tutor gave me.” Raphael’s eyes narrowed as if he wasn’t sure whether he should be irritated or incredibly turned on. “Perhaps I’ll just keep breaking rules and need to be punished later.”

Her devilish husband reluctantly laid down on the bed, waiting to see what was about to unfold before making some sort of Infernal judgment. Tav immediately straddled him and stroked her clit with the head of his cock.

“Maybe you can help me with my lessons, husband,” Tav suggested, breathing into Raphael’s ear as she leaned over him. He groaned deeply as she used him to stroke herself. His hands were gripping tightly at her hips and resisting pulling her down onto him at great effort. She could feel each claw pressing into her skin.

“Contracts can’t be signed while under coercion,” Tav continued. “Could you sign a contract for me, my dear?”

“Mouse-” Raphael started and groaned again. His eyes were alight with lust. Tav waited for him to answer, still stroking herself and spreading her wetness everywhere down his shaft as she tormented him. “Yes-” he grunted below her. “Coercion for Infernal contracts-” he moaned deeply. “-requires imminent threats of danger.”

Coercion definitely wasn’t going to work as a way out of her contract, but Tav had already suspected that it was a long shot.

Tav needed as much information as she could. This was by far some of the longest foreplay the two of them had had, and if she didn’t get Raphael any real satisfaction soon, he was unlikely to relinquish control to her again.

Tav sank down onto him, and Raphael let out a deep, heady groan. His hands urged her to start thrusting, and his hips tried to buck into her. Tav kissed him deeply and started to ride him. Raphael’s eyes rolled in the back of his head and his tail wrapped around her thigh. He felt good inside her, but tonight was not about her pleasure, she needed to pleasure information out of Raphael. She watched his body language and listened closely to the sounds he was making. He needed to last for her to get the information she was seeking.

Tav abruptly stopped thrusting but kept him deeply within her. Raphael’s hands tried to force her hips to keep thrusting, but Tav locked her ankles under his legs. His tail was pulsing. “Contracts can’t be made under duress,” she whispered lustily in his ear. “Could you sign a contract for me?”

Raphael was squirming underneath her, every body part desperate for her to continue. He grunted, “Yes, duress is limited to curses-” he moaned as she indulged him in a single thrust. “-or violence.” She gave him another single thrust. “My dearest, I am starting to think you are a curse.”

Duress as an argument wouldn’t work either. The technical marriage to Gale may be her best shot.

Tav started to ride Raphael in earnest, finally letting her devilish husband chase his pleasure. She listened closely to his breathing and could tell he was approaching orgasm.

“Raphael, are sections of a contract always nullified if you have a superseding agreement?” Tav questioned.

For once in his existence, Raphael appeared as if there was nothing going on in his head except for the pleasure of being thoroughly fucked by his wife. He gave deep, ragged gasps and pawed roughly at her.

“Contracts-” he moaned. “In Infernal-” another moan, “operate under a hierarchy.” Raphael was twitching beneath her and she could feel his cock pulsing inside her. He was about to come. “The highest ranked… Infernal… contracts… take… priority.” Tav clenched around him, and Raphael gave a deep, unmistakable groan of pleasure as he came deep within her. Tav dutifully rode out his orgasm.

Infernal seed was dripping down her thighs and Infernal law was dancing through her head.

Tav needed to determine whether her contact with Gale outranked her contract with Raphael.

#bg3 raphael #raphael bg3 #raphael the cambion #raphael x tav #bg3 the fine print #legalese and smut

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jake-whatthefisgoingon-kiszka · 2 months ago

Text

This collab has been in the works for some time now and we’re finally ready to share with you the first chapter! @kultavalo and I have giggled for many a moons over these two love birds so we hope you enjoy them just as much as we do 🥰

*Read on AO3

Pairing: Josh Kiszka X Danny Wagner *sweet sweet slash

Warnings and tags: 18+ ONLY! No minors need be present where Finn and I are involved! Some slight angst, idiots pinning and flirting, fluuuffff, more tags to be added later

Word count: 2.7k

Omne Trium Perfectum, everything that comes in threes is perfect.

What a beautiful phrase, though anything in Latin did tend to have that effect.

It was something Danny often thought about ever since he heard it read aloud from a book Jake was reading in their shared space on the bus between two seemingly identical cities.

The more he thought about it the more it did very well seem that everything that came in threes was indeed perfect: the sun, the moon, and the stars. Melody, rhythm, and harmony. The three musketeers, the three wise men, the holy trinity, hell even bacon lettuce and tomato…

Though he’d been close with the Kiszkas for a very long time, Danny still sometimes struggled to find where he fit in. Josh, Jake, and Sam- everything in threes is perfect.

Even despite their constant corrections of interviewers, their heartening attempts to include him, Danny still had this nagging feeling in the back of his head that he would always be just on the outside looking in. Of course that was until three times he and Josh kissed, and by the third time he knew he was right where he belonged.

𖤓 - ☾ - ☆

The mall was quiet. The giant plastic ice cream cone that slowly turned near the entrance to the food court hummed softly in its rotations. A pack of moms with strollers had invaded the benches near the central fountain and a group of kids who were quite clearly supposed to be in school right now shot them nervous glances from their huddled corner near the Hot Topic.

It wasn’t often that Josh and Danny got to spend some quality time with just the two of them. Often either Sam or Jake or both would tag along on whatever adventure they might go on, not wanting to miss out on any potential fun.

But honestly this trip to the mall was not exactly the kind of quality time or adventure anyone was actually thrilled about.

Earlier that day Josh had received quite a scolding from Jen, their makeup artist. He had been secretly dipping into her stash of white eyeliners after he had run out of the one tiny pencil he had brought on tour himself.

In his defense Josh had never expected that he would enjoy wearing the simple white dots that were all his current skill level would allow on a daily basis. The original idea had been to only apply them for interviews and more casual public outings where he still had to look the rockstar part. But the more he practiced and perfected his symmetrical application, the more he started to add the tiny bits of flair to his daily outfits. They made him feel pretty. The pencil he had brought lasted about two weeks.

He really thought Jen wouldn’t notice. It was just one pencil out of her giant kit! But in his ignorance Josh had inadvertently grabbed the most expensive item out of the whole bunch and Jen had definitely noticed.

She had cornered him in the dining room of the hotel during breakfast that morning. It had just been him and Danny at their table, sleepily blinking into their cereal as they tried to wake themselves up enough to actually go out and enjoy their day off between shows. Neither boy had noticed her angrily stomp up to them until it was too late.

She slammed her hand down on the table, rattling the cups and bowls and startling the two half asleep musicians.

“Joshua Michael Kiszka.” she hissed as she held up the stump of what used to be a full white eyeliner pencil.

“I know your mother raised you better than to steal so would you care to explain to me what this is supposed to be?”

Fear gripped Josh’s heart. Jen was one of the most gentle and loving people he knew. No matter what kind of shenanigans he pulled or how bratty he acted she always treated him kindly and with a smile. So the fact that she now looked like she was about to strangle him truly made him think carefully about his next words.

“Uhm…” was all he managed to stutter out before she put up a hand to silence him.

“Don’t even start with me, young man. Do you have any idea how expensive this pencil is?”

Josh simply shook his head slowly. He’d never really thought about the price of makeup, the shitty little pencil he got at CVS was just a few bucks, but the look on Jen’s face told him that had not been the case for the one he’d so carelessly nicked from her beautycase.

“Forty five dollars.” she spat at him and all the color in Josh’s face drained. He didn’t even know eyeliner could be that expensive.

“You better get me a new one Josh.” Jen continued, “Or you can do your own makeup for the rest of the tour.”

Danny, who had been trying to stay as quiet as possible and had just focussed on finishing his cereal and getting the hell out of dodge as quickly as possible let out a tiny snicker at that. He instantly regretted letting the small noise escape his lips when Jen turned her burning gaze to him.

“And you!” She pointed an accusing finger at Danny but quickly lowered it when she realized he hadn’t actually done anything wrong.

“You better go with him and make sure he doesn’t fuck up more.” she grumbled before storming back off to her room, leaving the two boys stunned in her wake.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen her that angry before” Danny mumbled into his coffee cup as Josh dropped his face into his hands in shame.

“Yeah me neither.” Josh’s voice was muffled but Danny could still make out the words.

“You gotta help me Danny, I really fucked up this time.” he sighed as he rubbed his hands over his face.

Danny sighed as he finished the last of his coffee. This wasn’t exactly what he had planned for his one day off in over a week, but he couldn’t let Josh down. Something about those big brown eyes that pleadingly stared at him from between those fingers made him incapable of saying no.

“Fine, but you owe me one.”

***

They'd hijacked a runner van and taken a trip to the nearest mall.

Soft jazz echoed through the almost abandoned halls and promenade as Josh and Danny made their way from shop to shop. The search for the insanely overpriced pencil had started frantically. Jen had left the stump Josh had tried to sneak back into her kit on the breakfast table and the boys had been smart enough to bring it with them for reference.

It didn't take long for him to get distracted however.

Besides his own impulse purchase of the white eyeliner during an unrelated CVS run, Josh had never actually been inside a makeup store. He had no idea about the wealth of products that were available and the wide assortment of colors and sparkles blew his mind.

Danny tried to keep him on track for the first hour or so but he had to admit trying out all the different shades of eyeshadow on the back of his hands was pretty fun.

“Do you think we should get Jen a new eyeshadow palette as well?” Josh had asked once both of his hands were covered in colorful swatches.

“You know, as an apology?” He continued as he swiped a new color onto Danny's wrist, having run out of space on his own skin.

Danny shot him a halfhearted frown but in all fairness the glittery purple Josh had put on him did look good against his skin.

“We don't have to do anything. If you'll remember I didn't steal anything. If you wanna buy her something extra to make up for your crimes feel free. I'm just here to keep you out of more trouble.” Danny said as he jokingly swiped a line of silver powder across Josh’s cheek.

Josh snorted out a laugh as he swatted Danny's hand away from his face.

“And you're doing a marvelous job at it darling.” He laughed as he turned back to the array of makeup in front of him, loading up his fingers with 10 new colors to try.

Danny knew Josh joked when he called him pet names. He called everyone darling, it wasn't anything special.

But the way his stomach felt… like there was a tiny firecracker that went off in his abdomen when the word hit his ears. It still made him feel special…

Danny quickly locked that feeling back in the corner of his brain he had labeled “for future consideration”. A corner he had established a few years ago when one random Tuesday in August he had looked at Josh and something in the way the sun hit him in that moment made his stomach flip over twice.

Danny wasn't sure when the time for consideration would arrive. It certainly wouldn't be right now though, walking towards the lipstick counter, about to tell Josh he probably shouldn't swatch the chapstick straight on his lips.

“Josh, I don't think that's very hygienic.” Danny hissed into his ear while he scanned the area for any employees who might have spotted them and deemed this the final transgression worthy of kicking them out of the store. They still hadn’t found that ridiculously overpriced pencil they were looking for in the first place.

Josh simply let out a huff and rolled his eyes.

“Calm down, I’m gonna buy it. It tastes like watermelon though!” he said as he absentmindedly threw the tube into the shopping basket Danny was holding.

After about another hour of swatching, searching, and Danny herding Josh through the aisles like a toddler who might eat all the crayons in art class, they finally found the elusive white eyeliner pencil.

Jen hadn’t lied, it really was fortyfive dollars. It seemed like a ridiculous price to Danny but Josh bought two anyway. One for her and one for him so she wouldn’t kick his ass for stealing again.

After their quest was complete the two men decided to reward themselves with milkshakes and look at their respective hauls in the food court.

“Can you get me a chocolate with whipped cream shake?” Josh asked as he walked towards the nearest table, typing on his phone as he took a seat, practically ignoring Danny.

“Absolutely the fuck not.” Danny said with a huff which made Josh look up in surprise. The confused look on his face was honestly adorable but Danny didn’t let that influence him.

“I sacrificed my free day to come along with you. You used both my arms as swatch central, and I’m carrying both of our bags. You get me a milkshake.” Danny laughed. He wasn’t actually angry at Josh but someone needed to reign in the diva on occasion.

The pouty look Josh shot at him was almost enough to sway his determination but Danny put his foot down. He did do all of those things for Josh and there was no reason why he shouldn’t receive a little bit of gratitude for it.

Josh let out a dramatic sigh when he realized Danny wasn’t wavering but he did get up and started walking towards the shake shop.

“Don’t you want to know my order?” Danny asked as Josh walked off but he simply waved and said “I know what you like.”

Danny pretended his stomach didn’t shoot up into his throat at those words. He took a seat at the table Josh had picked and started rifling through their shopping bags. their quest had started with just one pencil but they had ended up with so much more. Eyeshadow and blush palettes, mascara, nail polish, lipstick. They could have put together their own beauty kits at this point.

Danny lazily looked over it all as he waited for Josh to return. They had bought so much sparkly shit. He didn’t even know what half of it was for but he was sure he could figure it out with some help from google and youtube.

Out of the corner of his eye, still slightly stuck in the plastic bag Danny spotted an item he did know how to use however. The chapstick Josh had said tasted like watermelon.

He grabbed the tiny tube and pulled the cap off. The strong, sweet smell of artificial watermelon immediately penetrated his nostrils. It was a fairly intense but nonetheless pleasant smell.

Danny absentmindedly pressed the chapstick to his lips, wanting to see for himself if the smell actually matched the flavor or if it would simply taste like vaseline.

He had to admit he wasn’t disappointed. The chapstick truly did taste like a watermelon candy.

“I don’t think that’s very hygienic.” Josh's mocking voice spoke from right next to him, slightly startling Danny.

Josh simply chuckled as he set down the tray carrying the two giant milkshakes he had purchased.

“Now it’s almost like we kissed.” he grinned at Danny as he took a sip from his own cup and pushed the other towards the drummer.

Danny’s eyes went wide and all he could stammer out was a shaky “Wh-what?”

Josh shrugged as he popped the clear plastic dome off of his cup and used his straw to mix the whipped cream through his drink. He barely even looked up at Danny as he continued speaking.

“That’s what they say, when you share chapstick it’s like you kissed. ‘Cause your lips touched the same surface.”

Danny stared at Josh for a long quiet moment. Josh hardly seemed to notice, too busy with mixing his drink to the perfect consistency.

Eventually the self preservation mechanism in Danny’s brain took over and he quickly took a sip of his own milkshake to break the awkwardness.

The taste that hit his tongue was simultaneously nothing like he expected and everything he knew he wanted.

“I didn’t know they made watermelon milkshakes.”

“I told you. I know what you like.”

Danny tried to hide his blush behind his giant cup but honestly it was hardly necessary. Josh had grabbed the nearest eyeshadow palette and was intensely studying the shimmering colors.

Once they had finished their drinks they decided it was time to head back to the hotel.

They had seen pretty much all the tiny mall had to offer and Danny was set on spending whatever remained of his free day soaking in the jacuzzi tub his room had granted him access to. If he spent some of that soaking time thinking about a certain frontman and getting himself off, well that was between him and the bathwater.

Josh had texted the van driver while they were still at the food court so by the time they’d found the correct mall exit they only had to wait for another ten minutes to be picked up.

The sun was shining bright and there was a small patch of grass next to the pick-up area. Josh quickly kicked his sandals off and sighed contently as his bare feet touched the grass. With his eyes closed and his face turned to the sun Josh didn’t notice Danny staring at him.

There was a reason everyone compared Josh to the sun. He radiated a certain kind of light that was simply undeniable. Right now Josh seemed to be recharging, soaking up the few rays of direct sunlight he could get to make his own glow shine brighter once more. Danny loved staring at that glow, even if he could only do it in secret. Whenever he could bask in those little rays of Josh’s sunlight he felt like a starving man finally being fed.

It wasn’t too long before the van showed up and Josh reluctantly put his shoes back on, threw his bags in the trunk, and joined Danny in the backseat.

Josh patted his pockets as the van started driving, seemingly looking for something. He turned in his seat and hooked his arm over the headrest, trying to reach something in the trunk.

Danny looked at him in confusion but before he could ask what he was doing Josh turned back. He huffed, looked at Danny, and kissed him straight on the lips.

Danny’s brain short circuited.

It only lasted a second. Honestly it was over before he even realized what had happened.

He simply blinked at Josh in confusion, hoping that somehow the morse code his eyes were spelling out conveyed his question of “what just happened” to the other man.

It seemingly worked cause Josh simply shrugged and said “my lips were dry. The chapstick is in the bag in the trunk but you’re still wearing it. I’m simply getting back what I paid for Daniel, don’t look so surprised. If anything, this whole trip today should have taught you that stealing doesn’t work.”

He pulled out his phone and half heartedly started scrolling through instagram, ignoring Danny’s still shocked gaze.

Josh had kissed him. On the mouth. Like it was nothing.

Danny's stomach was in his throat and his heart was in his ears and Josh was just looking at his phone.

The watermelon flavored tube of chapstick burned a hole into the pocket of his pants.

𖤓 - ☾ - ☆

Tags: @sanguinebats @gracev0609

#greta van fleet #Greta van fic #Josh kiszka #Danny Wagner #Jonny gvf

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